A Visit to the Grave of V.C. Andrews, Author

The grave of V.C. Andrews is located in Portsmouth, Virginia, the same city where she was born and lived much of her 63 years of life. Virginia Andrews was a best-selling author with more than 24 million books in print at the time of her death in 1986.

The gravestone of Andrews stands out among the other stones in Olive Branch Cemetery. The white Georgian marble memorial is large and unique. Set amid a sea of gray stone markers, it’s white surface gleams in the bright sunshine – a contrast to the dark characters that fill so many of her books.

The grave is located about 75 feet east of the only flagpole in the eastern half of the cemetery. Standing beside the tombstone, you can hear birds in the nearby trees, the harsh caw of crows, and quacking of ducks from a stream adjacent to the cemetery. Sunshine beating down on the area has caused much of the grass to wither; turned dry and brown, it crunches underfoot. Over the years, Andrews’ tombstone has become slightly dirty, with a few streaks of black staining the fine white marble. Still, the unique design of the stone is eye-catching and the sentiments engraved on its surface touches the heart.

On one side of the ten-foot wide stone, an open book is carved into the top, and proudly lists seven of Andrews’ best-selling novels. The inscription carved across the book reads: "Best Selling Novels, Flowers in The Attic, Petals On The Wind, If There Be Thorns, My Sweet Audrina, Seeds of Yesterday, Heaven, Dark Angels." Under the open book the name "Andrews" spreads across the stone. Beneath the name, is a delicate carving of an ink bottle flanked by two feather pens.

On the other side of the stone is a long inscription written by Andrews herself and later chiseled into the stone. It reads:

"Books opened doors I hadn’t even
realized were there. They took me up
and out of myself, Back into the past,
forward into the future. Put me on the
moon, placed me in palaces, in jungles.
Everywhere. When finally I did reach
London and Paris – I’d been there before.
When books fail to give me what I need,
dreams supply the rest. A long time
ago I dreamed I was rich and famous –
and I saw flowers growing in the attic.
Dreams can come true, no matter what
obstacles fate chooses to place as
obstacles to hurdle, crawl under, or
go around. Somehow I always manage
to reach the far side.
What else can I say? To have a goal
and achieve it, despite everything is my
only accomplishment. If I give a few
million readers pleasure and escape
along the way, I do the same for myself."
Yours
V. C. Andrews (her signature in flowing script)
Virginia C. Andrews

At the foot of the large tombstone, three footstones spread across the plot. The footstones represent the final resting place for not only Cleo Virginia Andrews, but her parents as well. Although she had two brothers, Andrews never married and never had children. The left-hand stone holds five lines that read: "Father / William Henry Andrews / July 23, 1894 / Feb. 22, 1957 / U.S. Navy, World War I."

The center stone’s five lines read: "Daughter / Cleo Virginia Andrews / June 6, 1923 / Dec. 19, 1986 / Author."

The right-hand stone’s five lines read: "Wife / Lillian L. Andrews / Aug. 10, 1902 / Apr. 30, 1993 / In Loving Memory."

Olive Branch Cemetery is off City Park Avenue, which is off Portsmouth Blvd. There is ample parking on the gravel lanes that wind among the stones, and the cemetery provides easy access.

Three weeks before her death, Andrews said, "Now I have the satisfaction of having my name recognized. And it will live after me."

I wonder if she could ever have imagined that her name would live on in books that she never even wrote. I find it odd that more books have been published under her name since her death, than before she died. I wonder how she would feel about that.

Standing beside the grave of V.C. Andrews, a visitor can take the time to remember a woman who persevered, and lived a life where many of her dreams did come true. She may have suffered physically (from crippling arthritis), but the imaginary world she created for herself, and for her readers, was rich and exciting. Cleo Virginia Andrews – may you rest in peace.