'Green burial' for cyclist, environmentalist In life, Patrick Ytsma made it a point to minimize his drag on the environment, in part by riding his bike nearly everywhere he went. So it was fitting that when he died at 53, after a collision with a car, he would be laid to rest at Bethlehem's Fountain Hill Cemetery, in a special area devoted to environmentally friendly interments. At Ytsma's Dec. 10 burial, funeral-goers formed a broad semicircle around the wind-swept hillside grave site as pallbearers delicately lifted the earth-friendly sea grass and willow casket that contained his unembalmed body. Mourners shuffled their feet to stay warm, rustling the leaves and native grasses that cover the area of the cemetery set aside for green burials. More than three dozen cyclists stood by. Beneath an ice-blue sky, a few words were said and Ytsma's casket was lowered into the ground, the mourners slowly covering him with shovelfuls of dirt. No harsh chemicals, no polyester-lined coffin, no precast concrete vault. "It was very gentle," said Ytsma's wife, Judy Parr. My husband was a sweet and loving man, and it was a gentle and loving way to take care of him. Let the circle of life be complete. Let him go where he belongs. I don't want it interrupted chemically. It might seem unusual today, but for many years most Americans were buried in a similar fashion, said Mark Harris, a Bethlehem writer who is a national authority on green burials. Bodies weren't embalmed. Pine caskets were handmade by the village carpenter and most people were buried in a hand-dug grave in a designated section of their family's property or the community graveyard. That all changed during the Civil War, Harris said. Union soldiers' bodies had to be embalmed to endure the long, hot train ride north for burial. When President Lincoln's body was embalmed for its memorial train tour around the country, that helped popularize the practice. Meanwhile, the Industrial Revolution hit the casket industry, which began cranking out mass-produced metal caskets. Concrete burial vaults were employed to deter grave robbers and remained popular with cemeteries because they prevented settling. While it all had a certain utility, none of it was terribly earth-friendly, Harris said. "Today, a 10-acre cemetery has enough wood to rebuild 40 homes, 20,000 tons of concrete and enough toxic formalin to fill a small backyard swimming pool," said Harris, who has written a book on green funerals titled "Grave Matters: A Journey Through the Modern Funeral Industry to a Natural Way of Burial." Demand for a greener final act, which remains limited but is growing, is being driven mostly by baby boomers, many of whom are now entering their retirement years, Harris said. Funeral director John Kulik in nearby Allentown said he had seen interest, but that until century-old Fountain Hill opened its green section, there was no local cemetery in eastern Pennsylvania's Lehigh Valley that could accommodate green burials. We had to go to upstate New York or North Carolina. If you have a lot of people driving, it kind of defeats the purpose," Kulik said. Think of all the fossil fuels. Parr said she and her husband never specifically talked about how they wanted to be buried. Ytsma was in perfect health. But they had read a story in the Allentown Morning Call about green burials, and it appealed to both of them. "I just like the thought of him being there, and I like the thought that there will be wildflowers there," she said. We did not fertilize our lawn. It is another way of taking comfort. I think it's neat Pat is taking the lead in an option that I think a lot of people of all kinds might find beautiful and meaningful. As an environmentalist, family friend and former co-worker of Ytsma's, Deirdre Kwiatek already liked the idea of green funerals. Experiencing one firsthand has her seriously considering the idea for herself, especially now that there is a local place for it. "It helps say goodbye," Kwiatek said. I like it from the environmental standpoint, intellectually, because of the green nature of it. But there was a whole side where it really puts you very much in contact with that whole process of living and dying, and I think that is a good thing.