Winter is closing in, and with it comes the morbid thought that the busiest time of the year for Swedish graveyards is almost upon us. Not that people are dying in their droves of course; at least, no more than normal. But most of those visiting Stockholm’s graveyards in the coming weeks will not be staying for the long haul – the vast majority will stay just long enough to light a candle for a loved one that has passed on, before hurrying back into the warmth of their homes and waiting for the glögg season to begin.

But others, despite not being full-time residents, spend appreciably more time there. One of them is Robin Roast, an Englishman who came to Stockholm in pursuit of love, and ended up a gravedigger at Skogskyrkogården for the last 34 years.

Roast and I meet at the entrance to the cemetery where he suggests we take a tour of the grounds. After exchanging a regimental handshake – his rough hands dwarfing my own – we set-off.

The sprightly 62-year-old is clean-shaven with a full head of grey hair and a quiet confidence that comes with age. Draped in a fleece, windshield and hiking-boots he looks prepared for anything nature can throw at us.

From a small rural village in Kent, about halfway between Canterbury and Dover, Roast retains his British accent, despite living in Sweden for over 30 years.

“As a young lad I worked with agricultural machinery on farms and that sort of thing,” he says. “After I completed an apprenticeship in my early 20’s I wanted to move from the UK to work in Canada for a year or two. I ended up staying there for five years.

“During the last year of my stay I met a Swedish girl. She wanted to stay in Canada longer but had to return to Sweden to finish her studies as a nurse. After I completed my contract I followed her to Stockholm. But she had already met another guy and that was the end of that.”

Roast – a refugee of love – decided to stay in Stockholm despite the rocky start. Sweden wasn’t in the EU which meant its immigration policy was strict, Roast explains.
“It was difficult to find work,” Roast says. “You were allowed come here and work if you had a contract but you had to stay with that job. You couldn’t hop from job to job.”
Roast eventually stumbled across a job advertisement announcing a vacancy at Skogskyrkogården.

“I wanted a job where I could work outside but it wasn’t easy to find work in those days – there was no internet,” he says. “I scoured the newspapers and eventually saw an ad posted by Skogskyrkogården. They needed someone to dig graves. I thought: ‘I can do that for a few months.’”

Thirty-four years later, he’s still working at Skogskyrkogården and is considered by his colleagues to be something of an institution.”

“The years go by much quicker than you realize,” he says as we pass a gigantic copper crucifix. “I eventually met another woman who I fell in love with and, years later, had three wonderful children with – two boys and a girl. Suddenly you are that bit older and you don’t have any aspirations of leaving. It is a good place to work and the staff are also like family now. I live in Sköndal which is close by and since I enjoy being outside it’s a perfect match.”

Skogskyrkogården was created between 1917 and 1920 by two young architects, Gunnar Asplund and Sigurd Lewerentz, on the site of a former gravel pit overgrown with Pine trees. Their design blends vegetation with architectural elements.

In 1994, Skogskyrkogården was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site, making it a major tourist attraction. It has grown in popularity and has had a profound influence on cemetery design throughout the world. For many, its tranquil setting is an apt choice for a final resting place.

Roast and I stroll along a footpath that meanders through the serene woodland. Each tree is tagged and monitored to reduce the spread of disease.

“RATATAT.”

Somewhere above a woodpecker bashes its head against a trunk like a machine run. He’ll have to work harder than that I think to myself – these evergreens have been here centuries. Each year they defy autumn, and the annual drop in temperatures, unlike their leafier counterparts.

To our right and left headstones cower below the swaying canopy. In keeping with the style of the cemetery – and the wishes of the architects – most of the mute, coloured headstones are simply decorated. The cemetery is subdivided into different sections so families and those of the same faith are laid to rest side-by-side.

Roast dug his first grave at Skogskyrkogården when he was 28, but that’s not all there is to his job. He also had other responsibilities including keeping the grounds in order; removing weeds and cutting the grass. He eventually started working with irrigation and forestry and, years later, became foreman with a team of full-time and seasonal workers.

“Back then every permanent employee had to learn to do perform each other’s tasks,” he says. “Now that I am a bit older I mainly meet with and try to comfort bereaved people. I became deputy of the cemetery on October 1, which means I now also have office work and managerial responsibilities.”

The graves at Skogskyrkogården are laid out without obsessive alignment. Glancing at the names I recognize the telltale curves of Arabic and realize we are now passing the Muslim section. Due to lack of space no Muslim burials have taken place at Skogskyrkogården for about ten years. When they did, the bodies were always orientated towards Mecca, and learning about such customs was an integral part of Roasts job. Digging graves safely was another.

“We dug every single grave using shovels when I first started,” Roast says. “It does still happen but not as much anymore. Nowadays it’s more common to use machines when digging a grave for a coffin. Graves for urns we still dig using a shovel or spade. We have tested all sorts of machines but it’s quicker and neater to do it by hand.

“On a mechanized dig we use a JCB or a smaller digger with a drill attachment if we don’t have much room to maneuver.”

During the last few years Stockholm has experienced some of the coldest winters recorded. I ask Roast how they deal with this.

“We sometimes use a hammer attached to the back of a tractor to break up the ice. Some sites we need to heat up electrically. We have a special machine – it looks like a radiator – which warms the soil underneath it, melting the ice and snow. You just put it on top and it heats the earth down to a certain depth. When burying urns we use a similar device. It’s a much smaller, cylindrical machine that burns charcoal. It looks almost like a stove and is very precise.”

As we round a corner Roast waves to colleagues putting the finishing touches to a freshly dug grave. It can take anywhere from one hour up to a whole day to dig a grave. The most graves Roast has dug in one day has been six and, contrary to popular belief, coffins are not always buried “six-feet under.” Instead, the depth of a grave is governed largely by fluctuating labor laws. Regardless, it can be a hazardous job, Roast explains.

“I heard a story about a gravedigger that got buried alive because the walls of earth collapsed on him,” he says. “Spring, when the soil is wet and heavy, is the most dangerous time of the year. There should always be at least two people digging a grave. We also use a timber frame to support the sides and help prevent it from collapsing.”

I assumed more deaths occurred during the winter months but Roast claimed the rates remained the same year round. From his experience, most families tend to prefer having a funeral, whether it’s with an urn or a coffin, when the weather is warmer. So spring and summer are the busier seasons but it can take some families longer to organize and agree on the date of the ceremony.

“In the 70’s it could take up to ten working days to guarantee a good turnout,” he says. “Nowadays it can take families three or four weeks to agree on a date.”

When high emotion and alcohol are combined arguments can arise. Roast has witnessed a few graveside bust-ups over the years.

“Some funerals can be unpredictable when there is drink involved,” Roast says. “We don’t have many but I have worked on a few funerals for Finnish and Romanian gypsies. They can get quite boisterous because of the alcohol consumption. It’s unpredictable: 20 people might turn up or 400. I’ve witnessed similar sized turnouts for funerals of orthodox coptana from Egypt, Sudan and Eritrea.”

“When there are arguments between families we try to let them sort it out themselves but we also have someone that is employed especially to help when such situations occur.”
Amongst the more strange requests Roast has been able to meet is that of an American man who wanted to be buried with his coffin standing upright. Such behavior and practices is not uncommon.

“Some orthodox Serbian parishes throw money in the grave,” he says. “On one burial the mourners were throwing one-thousand-kronor notes into the grave. By the end of the ceremony it looked like quite a lot of money. They even had a minder keeping guard to ensure we didn’t take any of the money when we started to refill the grave.”

Lennart “Nacka” Skoglund, Gunnar Asplund and Sune Mang are among Skogskyrkogårdens most well-known inhabitants. But withouta  doubt, the cemetery’s most well-known resident is Greta Garbo.

“I was working when Greta Garbo was buried,” he says. “The family managed to fool most of the public. She was actually buried the day before most people expected her to be buried. This allowed the family to grieve in private.

“There was no razzmatazz. It was the same as any other day except that it was extremely secretive and that we dug the grave one hour before the ceremony. There were very few people here.”

For over thirty years Roast has witnessed the fragility of life and the eternity of death on a daily basis. Despite the challenge he manages to maintain a healthy outlook. He has some semblance of a belief in God but doesn’t describe himself as a deeply religious or spiritual man and dismisses talk of ghosts as nonsense. So how does he remain so buoyant?

“It’s not easy but I learned early on that I had to find a way of moving on,” he says. “Sometimes when a young child has died and I meet with their parents it can be deeply upsetting and those memories can linger. For the most part I try to shut that out and enjoy the time I have with my family and friends.”

@JonnyRothwell