A Valentine’s Day Visit to the Mausoleum
I drive past the Mount Ogden Mausoleum almost daily and have always wanted to stop and look inside. But for whatever reason, I never had—until a few days ago. And what better way to spend Valentine’s Day than wandering through, reflecting on the Mount Ogden Mausoleum history?
Before we could go inside, we had to stop at the cemetery office to get the door code. I was half-expecting side-eye from the staff when I asked for access. How would they react if I told them I enjoy visiting cemeteries? Thankfully, they were totally cool about it and gave us the code right away.
Once inside, the mausoleum felt frozen in time. The polished marble floors, the stained glass windows, and rows of crypts made it feel both grand and eerie. What struck me most was the basement level, packed with crypts and noticeably darker than the main floor. Some crypts had photographs of their occupants, like Mary and James Fife. Others stood out for different reasons—like David C. Muckey, the only occupied crypt I saw without a brass nameplate.
But as I wandered through the halls, I started wondering—what was the story behind this place? I knew it had been around for decades, but how had it changed over time? That question led me down a rabbit hole of old newspaper archives, revealing a much stranger history than I expected.
The Birth of the Mount Ogden Mausoleum
The Mount Ogden Mausoleum was officially dedicated on June 9, 1935, with a grand vision of providing a modern and elegant final resting place. The mausoleum’s construction was overseen by Cecil E. Bryan, an architect known for designing impressive mausoleums across the country.
Before its completion, a groundbreaking ceremony was held on August 17, attended by Mayor Frank Francis and other prominent figures in Ogden. The event marked the beginning of what was supposed to be a prestigious, state-of-the-art burial site.
By 1936, the mausoleum added a crematory, making it the only one between Denver and the West Coast. They heavily advertised this feature, boasting the use of a Bleitz evaporator, described as the “last word in cremation.”
A Living Room for the Dead
One of the most unusual things I found was a 1945 newspaper ad showing the mausoleum’s Chapel Corridor set up like a living room—complete with sofas, armchairs, and lamps. The ad called this “a kinder, more reverent way” to remember loved ones.
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I have no idea how long this furniture arrangement lasted, but it’s definitely not there anymore. It’s strange to think of a time when mourning spaces were designed to be comforting and almost home-like rather than sterile and somber.
The Name Change: From Mausoleum to Memorial Park
Originally, the site was named the Mount Ogden Cemetery. In the late 1930s, it was rebranded as Aultorest Memorial Park—a name meant to sound peaceful and inviting.
The name “Aultorest” (a play on “All-to-Rest”) was meant to shift public perception of cemeteries. Ads encouraged people to “drive out and enjoy the beauty” of the memorial park, presenting it more like a landscaped retreat than a burial ground.
However, this rebranding may have also been a strategic move to distract from a growing controversy.
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The Financial Scandal: Mismanaged Trust Funds?
In the 1940s, James Harbertson, the manager of Aultorest Memorial Park, was accused of mismanaging the trust fund meant for the perpetual care of the cemetery.
A lawsuit filed in Second District Court alleged that the cemetery’s trust fund had been dissipated, raising concerns about the park’s financial stability. Harbertson denied the accusations, claiming there hadn’t been enough time to respond to the claims.
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While the outcome of the case remains unclear, the accusations raise serious questions about whether the cemetery’s financial troubles led to neglect in later years.
Expansion and Decline: The Mountain View Cemetery Takeover
By 1946, Harbertson expanded his influence further by purchasing Mountain View Cemetery, another burial ground in Ogden. At the time, Mountain View was in terrible condition, described in newspapers as overgrown with weeds, covered in trash, and neglected by its owners.
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Harbertson promised drastic changes—new landscaping, better maintenance, and tighter security to prevent vandalism. However, this expansion may have also spread resources thin, possibly affecting the upkeep of Aultorest itself.
Newspaper articles from the 1950s and 60s reveal that frustrated lot owners at Mountain View Cemetery held protests, complaining that promised perpetual care wasn’t being delivered. Could this pattern have repeated at Aultorest?
What Happened to the Copper Statue?
One of the most intriguing finds was an article about a copper statue that was supposed to sit atop the mausoleum. The statue, described as larger than life, depicted a robed figure holding a torch and wreath.
Created by local metalworkers, it was covered in gold leaf and outlined in neon lighting—a striking design choice for a mausoleum.
But here’s the mystery: there’s no trace of this statue today. Did it ever make it onto the mausoleum? Was it removed? Or did financial struggles prevent it from being installed in the first place?
Final Thoughts: A Cemetery with a Complicated Past
Walking through the mausoleum, I originally thought I was just visiting an old burial site. Instead, I found a place with a fascinating—and sometimes shady—history.
From its early days as a state-of-the-art facility with a living room-style chapel, to financial scandals, expansions, and its eventual decline, Aultorest Memorial Park tells a story that goes far beyond the marble crypts inside.
I still have questions, especially about the missing copper statue and how the trust fund controversy may have affected the cemetery over time. But one thing is certain—this mausoleum is far more than just a final resting place. It’s a piece of Ogden’s forgotten history.
Have You Been to Aultorest Memorial Park?
If you’ve visited Aultorest Memorial Park or have any family history connected to it, I’d love to hear your thoughts! Drop a comment below or reach out—especially if you know anything about the missing statue or the cemetery’s past.