The ravens wanted me out of the graveyard. Indignant to my presence, they protested with shrill shouts and sharp squawks, fluttering about in agitation from headstone to tree limb.

The cemetery was massive, and I struggled to find my destination. Passing by a pair of weathered old tombs, I tried to assess my location, and then reminded myself to tread lightly in crossing over the graves.

The Hills of Eternity Jewish Cemetery. (Photo by Charles Russo)

I had been in the necropolis for a few hours, and the dead were legion all around me, many of them residents here for more than a century. I had decided to seek out some the most famous (and yes, infamous) among them. I found Old West legend Wyatt Earp, and then baseball icon Joe DiMaggio. At the moment though, I was searching for Joshua Norton, the 19th Century eccentric from San Francisco who declared himself, “Emperor of the United States.”

The three historical figures had little in common, except for their final resting place — six feet below, here in the necropolis of Colma, a literal “City of the Dead” that has long maintained its intended purpose as one of the most unique cemetery complexes in the nation.