Steve picked me up at the airport & almost the first thing we did was go to the Lincoln cemetery, which is just a couple of miles from where he lives. It's big enough that if you didn't stumble on a grave by luck, you wouldn't find it. So we called the office. "First name WHAT?" she said. "Are you sure?"
She came back to the phone a couple of minutes later: Pink Anderson, Lot B, Section 10. And there he was, complete with a guitar pick someone else had left.
No way to take this picture except close in, so I put my foot in the frame.