From a 1931 newspaper sketch of the cemetery's planned grounds to this year's volunteer work days — the visual record of Duncan Heights, then and now.
Painted renderings of the cemetery's surviving stone entrance wall, based on a volunteer's photograph — flags placed by veterans' groups still stand along its length each Memorial Day.



The best-preserved graves sit closest to the road, some along a small stream — flagged each Memorial Day by local veterans' groups. Further back, survey flags mark headstones only recently rediscovered under decades of brush.






Past the tended front section, the cemetery becomes dense woods and marsh: fallen trees, thick undergrowth, and a creek clogged with decades of dumped debris — shopping carts, tires, and old crates sit tangled among the headstones.














Volunteers mark suspected grave sites with small flags before carefully clearing around them by hand — a slow, deliberate process aimed at documenting the cemetery's layout without damaging what's beneath the surface.








The cemetery's original marketing, from the pages of the Pittsburgh Courier — the only surviving visual record of how Duncan Heights looked when it opened.

