Name Laina Corazon Coit
Age 55
Vocation Hemp ice cream maker
Home Base Near Briggsdale,
Colo.
Noted for Working to
create Colorado’s first green burial grounds, on the eastern
prairie
She says “I’m
for earthworms. We intend to use every possible way to make sure
the land remains sacred to the grave sites and the wild animals.”
Way out on the eastern Colorado prairie, at the edge of
the golden Pawnee Grasslands, Laina Corazon Coit’s
do-it-yourself moving van sits in front of her modest new home. Out
here on the brittle, windswept plains, beyond subdivision sprawl,
irrigated crops and feedlots, the bustle of her old home in Denver
seems far away. Expansive views break only at the western horizon,
where fall’s first snow illuminates the Rocky Mountain peaks.
For Coit, a shy woman with a passion for prairie dogs, this
grassland is a spot to call home — for eternity.
But how would you describe a place intended to host both wildlife
and green burials? Is it a memorial park, a cemetery, or a wildlife
refuge? Coit, a thoughtful woman with gray-blond hair and
wire-rimmed glasses, is trying to envision the tranquil green haven
she hopes to establish near here one day.
Coit and her
brother, Rick Chase, kick up dirt and shiny rocks as they ramble
around the 70-acre spread. “Oh, that’s a good rock. We have
wonderful rocks,” Coit says, turning one over with genuine
admiration. A few steps later, “And we have a good red anthill.
Have you ever heard about anting?” she asks, launching into
pesticide-free advice for getting rid of houseplant aphids or
roaches infesting furniture by placing the items atop an anthill
for a day or two.
Coit has clearly thought a lot about
the merits of decomposition. After concluding a couple of years ago
that conventional cemeteries are a waste of natural space, water
and financial resources, Coit and her brother decided to create
Colorado’s first green burial grounds. They wanted it to be
financially accessible, especially for those willing to dig the
grave themselves or conduct their own services. This is a longtime
interest of Coit’s; over the years, she has helped several
friends keep loved ones legally dry-iced at home prior to burial. A
mere $10 in dry ice does the trick for an average-sized person, she
says. That’s compared to the $6,700 average cost for a
funeral, not including a gravesite. When Coit and Chase’s
father died last spring, their idea came to life.
Coit
buried her father on family land in Idaho. The family dug the grave
and orchestrated the service. No hardwood casket, no embalming
chemicals: Just the simple satisfaction of burying her father six
feet under, wrapped in a cotton sheet. Coit hopes to one day offer
this option to folks from places like Denver and Boulder, people
who might not have family land but seek a similar solution. “Death
doesn’t have to bury you,” Coit says.
Coit
initially considered looking for land in the mountains, but that
seemed impractical. “Those are the Rocky Mountains, after all, and
when you dig a grave … well, we figured the plains are more
compatible,” she says.
“The land gets priority over the
aesthetic needs of the people,” she says, explaining that burial
sites would rotate with the needs of the land. Conventional
cemeteries use vaults to keep corpses sealed in their caskets and
the earth above gravesites from sinking as decomposition occurs, a
process that takes from weeks to years, depending on the
environment. Coit says she’d prefer to keep filling in the
gravesites with native seed and soil. No mowing, no watering the
lawn, no fertilizers. “Unfortunately, the people who die earlier
might get the better spots … but you and your loved one will
be buried close enough for comfort.”
Coit plans a bird
sanctuary to start, but dreams of a 12,000-acre reserve fit for
low-impact burials and wandering bison. She stops to admire a giant
black beetle picking its way through the pebbles, studies a burrow
and hoots at a jackrabbit as it scoots across the prairie. She is
confident that human remains will help nurture the delicate prairie
environment. “We’re going to make sure we have good flora,”
she says, “and the good fauna will follow.”
The
author writes from Steamboat Springs,
Colorado.
This article appeared in the print edition of the magazine with the headline In search of greener pastures.
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