Re-learning A Lesson

Despite all indications to the contrary, Ol' Br'er ain't dead. At least not yet. It is just that The Universe had other plans for him. Not that that's changed any. But recent experiences goaded him into sharing them.

You never know where something will lead you. Recently Pappa Br'er returned to one of the family mysteries. He recounted how, when he was young, his own father would sometimes go off to "Visit Uncle John." He never accompanied his father on one of these visits. Nor did his father ever give any other details about where he was going and who he was visiting. Grandpa Br'er passed away when Pappa Br'er was in his early 20s (and before ol' Br'er hisself was even born. So any chance of learning more from Grandpa Br'er ended many, many years ago.

Well, the whole "Visiting Uncle John" story arose again recently (as happens with older folk who often repeat stories). This set Br'er off on a hunt - again - trying to identify "Uncle John" - not for the first time. But this effort received more focus than previous attempts.

First thing, Br'er laid out the search parameters. These allow any given potential candidate to be excluded from the list of possibilities if they do not meet any one of them.

• Male
• Has a given name (first or middle) of John, Johnathan, Johnny, Jon, or any variation that could be construed as a John, or has a J initial 
• Alive between 1943 (Pappa Br'er would not recall much before this date) and 1963 (Grandpa Br'er died that year)
• Was a blood relative of, or married a female blood relative of, Grandpa Br'er or Grandma Br'er 
• Was an uncle, great-uncle, etc. of Pappa Br'er (this allows for the possibility that Grandpa Br'er was describing the relationship between Pappa Br'er and John instead of Grandpa Br'er and John)
• Lived within "visiting distance" of Grandpa Br'er (visiting distance being about 100 miles maximum - far less in all reality - from Grandpa Br'er at the time as that would be the absolutely greatest distance he could travel to and from in a single day at the time due to roads and speed limits, and still have time to visit with anyone)

Initially, Br'er included the possibility that what Grandpa Br'er was actually doing was visiting someone's grave. But Pappa Br'er was insistent that this was not the case, that his father was visiting a living relative. So he took that criteria out.

A body might be forgiven for thinking this would be a simple effort. But it wasn't. There are dozens of branches on the tree to research! And more than a couple of Johns!

Died before Pappa Br'er was born? Not the right Uncle John. Lived in another state? Not the right Uncle John.

This was the point when Shiny Object Syndrome (SOS) kicked in. Certainly, anyone can appreciate SOS. It is when a body is focused on finding one thing, but something else comes up and diverts their attention. The next thing they know, they have spent hours off task, looking at the Shiny Object.

Ol' Br'er is as subject to SOS any anyone. Moreso than most.

It seems that one of Grandpa Br'er's aunts - Maude - married a man named John. That would seem to make him the ideal candidate for "Uncle John." Br'er did not have any detail on him in the family tree, so had to do the research. 

Cue the Shiny Object.

It seemed from Census records that John and Maude had moved from Georgia to South Carolina in the 1940s, but that was not something Br'er could confirm right off. He needed more details to be certain. Yet, death certificates and other documentation are not available online. Maude and John were born in the 1880s, so it is entirely possible they were still alive in the 1940s through the 1960s, or later. Finding where they died and were buried would help determine if this could be the Uncle John of the stories or not.

To figure this all out, Br'er extended the tree with this couple and their children and continued looking for any and all documentation for anyone in their family. Piecing this together was clearly going to be a challenge! Try as he did, Br'er could not find any death or burial record for either John or Maude in the usual places, so he sought more information on their children in hopes this would lead to details on their parents.

Looking at the various Census records, he found clear evidence of the couple losing children at a young age. They have a 2-year-old son, Roy D, on the 1910 Census, but Roy does not appear on the 1920 Census. In these years, the family lived in Athens, Georgia. Find A Grave lists a memorial for a Roy Dell born 1908 and died 1913 in a major cemetery in Athens. The grave marker not only notes that Roy is the son of J.W. and M.E., but also give the names and years for two more siblings! James Dillard (1911-1911) and John Clifford (1910-1911). 

The John and Maude Br'er is researching have middle names starting with W and E respectively, so all this seems to fit. 

Further, the couple had a daughter, Alice, born in 1926 (along with a couple more sons). These children appear with the couple on the 1940 Census living in South Carolina.

Damn! This cannot be the Uncle John Br'er is searching for! But SOS has kicked in, and he is fixated on finishing this branch of the tree! You see, he found a death certificate for Alice. She was struck by lightning and killed in 1945. More interesting, she was returned to Georgia and interred in the same cemetery as her three brothers, who all died as children.

This set Br'er to wondering if perhaps John and Maude were returned home to Georgia, too, to rest with their children. There were no records in Find  A Grave for them, but that could be for any number of reasons.

As it happens, many of the original records for the cemetery where Alice and the boys rest are available online. They are not linked through to Ancestry, so they will not show there as hints or be returned in search results. But, as Ol' Br'er has many kinfolks there and has done a good bit of research on the cemetery in the past, he knew about these records and set about checking them.

Knowing the names and death dates for four of the family and using their names to filter the records, Br'er was able to triangulate in and find they are all in the same Section and Plot. This led to the record of the original plot purchase!

John bought the low 6 June 1911. His son, John Clifford, would die a mere 20 days later, on 26 June. 

It does not take Sherlock Holmes to deduce that John Clifford had to be gravely ill by early June 1911. Ill enough that his father purchased a burial plot in anticipation that his son was unlikely to long survive. 

What a heartbreaking time for John and Maude. The year would only grow more tragic for them. Maude, who was almost certainly pregnant when she buried her second-born child in June, would deliver her third child, James Dillard November of that year, only to lose him a month later. 

Two children lost in one year. Then to lose her firstborn, Roy Dell, two years later.

The plot record not only shows John Clifford, James Dillard, and Roy Dell buried in the plot but their sister, Alice, as well as an unnamed infant. That infant, burial 68, dates to March 1914. Four children lost in four years. Then a fifth lost some years later. John and Maude must have thought themselves cursed. 

John and Maude did have two sons and a daughter who survived into their adulthood, and the sons, at least, had children of their own (Br'er cannot find if the daughter had any children). So perhaps some solace came from these surviving children and grandchildren.

The records also show that JW and Mrs. JW were ultimately laid to rest with their children in this family plot. The detailed cemetery burial records (burials 687, 945, and 1111) show that the individuals lived in South Carolina at the time of their passing, so there is no doubt that this is John and Maude.

Br'er took all this documentation and created Find A Grave memorials for the unnamed infant, John, and Maude. And linked all the children's memorials to their parents, so the family is together again in a way.

So, the tale is shared here so perhaps someone, sometime, might read it and be reminded that some things require a different approach to find and prove. Ol' Br'er had to re-learn that lesson. Maybe this will help others learn and re-learn it, too.

Now! Back to finding Uncle John!

Never Tell Me the Odds - H. Solo

Recently Ol' Br'er found hisself (Yes. Hisself. Learn proper southern vernacular!) with the better part of a day to kill out in the hinterlands. Ever prepared, he already had a list of cemeteries worthy of a visit. Not that these were for genealogy research on Br'er's kin themselves. No, just interesting because they are old, perhaps not fully cataloged and recorded, have open Find A Grave photo requests, and such. And none of them looked to be overgrown or hard to access. That is always a welcome bonus!

First up was a revisit to a place Br'er had been to before, Bogart Baptist Church, where lay a few distant kinfolks. This was not family, though. Well, not strictly speaking.

A while back, Br'er told a long saga about going down the rabbit hole researching the family of a woman from whom he indirectly inherited a desk. Recall that that effort also found Br'er researching her husband's family and learning he was one of some 19 children his father sired with two wives. Well, as it turned out, the photo request was for one of that fellow's half-sisters. What are the odds?

More amusing, she had twice married (the second marriage as a widow). Guess she took after her father, eh? Anyhoo, both her husbands are buried in this cemetery, only about 50 or 60 feet from each other. And, seemingly to reinforce the pattern, her second husband also married twice, the second marriage after he became a widower. 

Sadly, there was no marker to photograph. There is an unmarked space next to each of her husbands where she might be interred, but without church records detailing her exact grave site, there is no way to know where she lies.

From there, Br'er hopped over to another family cemetery where one distant cousin and his wife are buried. The odd thing is, Br'er did not readily find a link between his cousin and the two families for whom the cemetery is named. A bit more digging into the wife's line revealed that her mother was from one of the two families whose name the cemetery carries. 

That explained that. Br'er's cousin ended up surrounded by his wife's family. Exactly what the eventual future seems to hold for Ol' Br'er hisself. What are the odds?

The next planned stop was delayed. You see, Br'er took a wrong turn somewhere. But never one to allow an opportunity to go to waste, when he realized that he was passing his great-grandparents' graves AND had recently uncovered a photo of their graves from when they were recently buried, he felt a moral imperative to pause and recreate the photo 82 years later.

The amazing part of that section of this tale is that 1) There was a funeral and burial happening (this being a very small country church), and 2) Br'er did not interject hisself into the proceedings and ask who the deceased was. After all, there is a decent possibility it is a relation of some ilk. Much as he wanted to ask about any cemetery records the church has and the focus of the current proceedings, he managed to exercise just enough self-restraint to not do so.

He also spotted his first blue hearse. 

What are the odds?

Finally, Br'er scampered off to the last destination for the day. This was not a family cemetery nor anything needed for his own genealogy work. No, it was merely one that interested him in general.

The challenge turned out to be finding the damned thing! The GPS location on record in Find A Grave turned out to be at least a tenth of a mile off! This little difference had Ol' Br'er driving slowly and repeatedly in the vicinity. Ordinarily, this would not be an issue at all. 

This was not an ordinary day.

You see, a father was out walking with his two VERY young daughters. And this is a remote road with little traffic on the best of days. And this family lives in the only house for a mile in each direction. So there are two legitimate reasons for a stranger to be there: Visiting the family or visiting the cemetery. 

Clearly, Br'er was not there to visit the family. And they could not know he was looking for the cemetery.

Imagine how sketchy Br'er had to appear to that father! At least no one called the police on him. This time.

Eventually, and after a few false starts, Br'er found the location. In a pleasant surprise, someone is clearly attempting to maintain the site. Yes, some of the stones are fallen and/or damaged, but that is far from unusual when the stones are close to 200 years old and in a small, remote family cemetery in a wooded area. That said, the grass is mown, and brush removed (with the exception of a small area needing attention), leaves raked, and all the things needed to protect the site and keep the cemetery accessible.

Br'er spent a couple of hours wandering about and comparing the graves to the Find A Grave memorials. The last recorded burial with a marker dated from 1984, but there are two more listed in 2015 with no marker Br'er could find in the time he had. 

So, imagine his surprise when Br'er found two marked graves never recorded. One dated 1862, the other 1930. How could these have been missed in all this time?! What at the odds?

The 1862 headstone piqued Ol' Br'er's curiosity because it contained a great deal of data. Specifically, it gave his Confederate unit, stating that he died in Richmond, Va, with his age in years, months, and days. 

Could this be a cenotaph? Dating from 1862? Research is required!

Casting about at the older stones, Br'er spied something he had never before encountered.

This was the first time Ol' Br'er had seen headstones with iron hooks jutting through the stone. The only explanation he could imagine is that these were designed to hold a wreath left by someone visiting the grave. It is an interesting idea and one perhaps worthy of consideration (well, an updated version) when Br'er designs his own marker one day.

Alas, Br'er had to leave a good portion (Mostly the area still overgrown with briars. He may have been born and bred in the briar patch, but Br'er has no fond memories of those days and is not eager to relive them) unexplored. But he was due elsewhere, so had to leave.

Returning to the home warren, Br'er set out to find what he could about the life, family, and death of the soldier whose stone stated he died in Richmond, Va. This proved both frustrating and fruitful.

To explain.

Precious little documentation has survived. He appeared on the 1850 and 1860 Census by name. That confirmed his parents, both of whom are in the same cemetery, though not linked to him in Find A Grave. (NB: That update and others have been submitted to the memorial manager.) And his enlistment in a Georgia regiment. And sadly, his death at Chimborazo Hospital in Richmond. His fate was shared with one of Br'er's ancestors.

A side note on Br'er's ancestor at Chimborazo; Mamma Br'er succeeded in getting his grave marked by the VA. But, there was some miscommunication, so his marker has his rank as Colonel instead of Corporal. That is one helluva posthumous promotion! Too bad there wasn't any back pay to go with it. Then again, it would be Confederate money, so worthless except to collectors.

Back to the subject at hand. Nothing in the surviving documentation records his being buried in Virginia. There are extensive Chimborazo death and burial records. There is even an entry for this individual's exact name. But that individual was born in New York and served in a Virginia Regiment. Clearly, not this person. Shipping remains home for burial was just beginning to be 'a thing' at that time, made possible by the concurrent rise of embalming in the country. There were even special coffins at the time that allowed the remains to be packed in ice for shipment home. So, while Richmond was a great distance from this cemetery, and the nearest railroad stop was miles away over rough dirt roads, it is entirely possible he was shipped home for burial. Barring any documentation to the contrary, Br'er believes this is an actual grave, not a cenotaph. 

Br'er, having a vivid imagination, pictured a grieving father driving the farm wagon, making the long, slow trek to the railroad depot along dusty roads of baked Georgia Red Clay, retrieving his son's coffin, then making the same long, slow trek back to the family farm in the sweltering summer heat and humidity. He saw the family gathered for the funeral. And he wondered. He wondered if the father and/or brothers dug the grave themselves or was that duty assigned to slaves. He wondered if the body was, indeed, embalmed. And he wondered if the family chose to view the body. At least one person probably did, if only to ensure the correct remains had been sent back.

How many hundreds of thousands of parents had to endure that ordeal in the centuries since the Revolution? 

Yes, Ol' Br'er can be rather maudlin sometimes.

Never able to leave well enough alone, Br'er kept digging and building out a family tree for him. Siblings, parents, and grandparents, all had to be identified. Br'er noticed that one of his sisters married a man with a surname he recognized from some distant kin in-laws. Hmmm. More digging!

It turned out that this sister was the second wife. Would you believe it? His first wife was one of Br'er's kinfolk! And! His father's middle name is an alternate spelling of Br'er's family surname! More digging!

Yup. Not only is the man's first wife Br'er's kin, but he is too! What are the odds?

Lost and Found. By proxy.

There is an expression in the current vernacular when one becomes more engrossed with a subject - Going Down the Rabbit Hole. It is a not-so-oblique reference to 'Through The Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There.' Can you imagine a more appropriate term for O'' Br'er?

What? You did not know that was the actual title of Alice in Wonderland? Well, there. You've learned something today. 

Anyhoo, someone on the social medias (as the young people say these days) inquired about a forgotten cemetery out where Ol' Br'er was birthed. Oddly enough, it does not appear in Find A Grave. At least not on the map for the area. Now, this could be because the cemetery does not have GPS coordinates recorded. Without those, it will not appear on the map. No names for graves were supplied, so no one could search for it based on that information. 

The usual suspects crawled out from under their respective rocks, holes, and hollow logs. The hunt was on!

Ol' Br'er flexed his online research muscles. In a mere matter of minutes, with a basic search of property tax records, he confirmed there is, in fact, a cemetery at the site. Sadly, little else could be gleaned from the cyber world.

As it turned out, the only other possible reference Ol' Br'er could find was a book of cemeteries and graves published more than two decades ago by the local historical society. One hitch. Very few libraries have a copy of it. And it is so far out of print that the society no longer offers it for sale! Fortunately, a copy is available at a university near Ol' Br'er's home warren. A field trip is clearly in order.

Oy!

While Ol' Br'er was scratching and hunting, others were engaged in groundwork. One particular individual who lives in the area set out for a site visit. And he came out of the brush and bramble (Literally! Check the pics!) with photos of graves! Woot!

So! Now we have multiple references, all converging on the same target. The cemetery is recorded in the published book, but neither it nor the graves are recorded in Find A Grave.

Yes. That was remedied forthwith!

Good deed for the year accomplished.

The Deed is Done

If there was ever any doubt that Ol' Br'er is a damned fool, it has been washed away by the sheer volume of sweat he expended recently.

A week or so back, Br'er told a tale of Heisting a Headstone, Tactically Acquiring a Tombstone, Grifting a Grave Marker. Pause here and refresh your memory, if necessary.

Much as Pappa Br'er might have enjoyed toting that thing around in the pickup bed, it was long past time for it to be placed where it belonged.

The Krew headed out as early as old people who don't like mornings could manage. The site is a good distance from Br'er's warren. So arriving about 11:00 AM was considered 'crack o'dawn.' The temp was hovering in the mid-90s with an oh-so-comfy humidity settling in in the 100% range.

Who could ask for more?

First things first, we had to clear a path (the grass was a little high, and some expected participants are none too agile) and prepare the ground. Pappa Br'er grabbed the weed-whacker while Br'er started on the ground.

Fortunately for Br'er, the ground was the easier task.

That "temporary" marker has been there for almost four years to the day!

The ground is still pretty soft and relatively rock free. Digging required only a hand mattock and about five minutes.

Instead of trying to pour a cement base - which seemed entirely unnecessary - we laid a brick base for the marker to set on.

This is a work-in-process image. The final space was widened, more brick was added, and a layer of thick acrylic was placed under the bricks to retard any tendency for the stone to 'sink' over time. The whole structure ended up with the bottom of the stone about an inch below ground level. To the naked eye, it looked like it had been professionally set in cement!

One member of the party, along with Pappa Br'er, Mrs. Br'er, and Ol' Br'er himself, was a retired Army Chaplain. Br'er had shared the whole story with him. Hearing it, he declared that his Brother had been neglected and forgotten, and it was time to correct those errors. He "offered" (read that as "Try to stop me, and I will kick your ass") to say a few words over the deceased.

Now, I must go off on a tangent here. A few things need to be shared if you are to appreciate this situation. Firstly, Chappie recently fell and fractured a LOT of bones, including his neck and back! He spent over a month in the hospital and is FAR from recovered. Secondly, this was his first real solo outing since coming home. Mrs. Chappie was not so sanguine about his going at all, let alone unaccompanied. Thirdly, the damned fool had no business being out in the heat. None of us did, to be honest, but he less than others. Fourthly, both Chappie and the deceased were deployed to "The Sandbox"; The Persian Gulf. 

Knowing all this, you can, I hope, appreciate Chappie's determination and sacrifice in attending.

Whilst Br'er and Pappa Br'er were sweating their cotton tails off, Chappie and Mrs. Br'er wandered about the cemetery. Mrs. Br'er pointed out the vast swath of residents who are various and sundry kin to Br'er.

Br'er used D/2 on this relative about a year ago. This is just one application. Before that, it was as blackened as the following stones.

The two stones here were also cleaned with D/2. The back stone is a variegated granite common to the area.

In the end, there were only a paltry six people there to hear Chappie. Several extended family of the deceased were invited to join in. But, for various reasons, most were unable to attend.

If you have never done it, understand that speaking about someone you never met and have virtually no information on is a damned hard task. Yet, Chappie did so with heartfelt grace, speaking as only a Brother in Arms could. I am willing to wager he did a better job than whomever (if anyone) spoke at the original service, even if he did so in sandals.

Lastly, Mrs. Br'er broke a cardinal rule. She captured a rare photo of Ol' Br'er hard at work.

On the other hand

In my previous post, I lamented older family cemeteries that are neglected, abandoned, and left to deteriorate.

On the other hand, there are little places like this one I happened upon a while back. It directly abuts the road and is in a rural area. There are a couple of houses relatively nearby, but the vast majority of the surrounding land is either timber growing operations or deer hunting reserves. It is not a highly trafficked stretch of road by any means.

Yet, here is this obviously maintained cemetery. A couple of dozen graves or so. 

Makes you almost believe that people are not entirely horrible. 

Almost.

 

That's your cue, Princess Anna

Straight from Arendelle, here is Princess Anna with a new take on her hit song, "Do You Wanna Build A Snowman?" Get ready for the new version, "Do You Wanna Steal A Headstone?"

Don't look for any names or locations in this tale. Everything that could possibly identify any person or place has been thoroughly scrubbed and redacted for obvious reasons.

The Back Story

There is a fairly large church cemetery in which a couple of Poppa Br'er's uncles and aunts from his mother's family rest. He only knew where one aunt and uncle rested. But the other two. No clue. 

So, several years ago, Ol' Br'er took up the challenge of researching that branch of the family tree and seeing what could be dug up. FIGURATIVELY! Between online searches and systematically searching the cemetery on site, Br'er found all kinds of fascinating stuff, most of which surprised Poppa Br'er. To say nothing of shocking Br'er himself. 

Now, Br'er cannot limit his efforts to what he is looking for. Everything is a bright, shiny object that distracts him. so you can imagine the sheer amount of time he had to put into this effort!

First off, he learned that somewhere between 50% and 80% of the people in the cemetery are kinfolks on Poppa Br'er's paternal side. While fascinating and great to know, none of this does a damn thing to help with the questions of his maternal relatives that were the subject of the exercise.

Refocused on the actual task at hand, Br'er managed to find a Find A Grave entry for the missing aunt in this cemetery. It turned out that she had remarried later in life and was buried under the surname of her second husband. Armed with all this information, it was back out to the cemetery to grid-search and find her.

This is not what one would call a 'small' cemetery. Walking it and reading every marker took the better part of a day. In the course of that walk, Br'er not only found the aunt's grave but also added several graves to Find A Grave. One of these was about two spaces from the aunt he had been searching for and marked only by a temporary funeral home marker - the stamped steel and paper form kind. What stood out about this particular grave was that the burial was several years ago, yet only the temporary marker was in no place. Sad, but not everyone can afford a headstone.

But! There is a twist here! Br'er kept researching the tree and learned that this grave is one of Poppa Br'er's first cousins; the son of the aunt he had been searching for. This cousin has the surname of the aunt's first husband, so Br'er did not immediately associate him to the aunt despite their graves being separated by only one space. Additional research revealed that this cousin was career military. All veterans are entitled to receive a grave marker from the Veterans Administration at no cost (well, no cost other than installation). So there was no reason for his grave to be unmarked unless it was his wish.

The Interim

Armed with all this information - including the funeral home that handled the cousin's service (it was on the temporary marker) - Br'er set out to get him his VA marker. 

Br'er expected that he would have to submit a request for the marker with the VA. That submission requires a funeral home or mortuary also sign off on the request because the VA will only ship a marker to a funeral home, mortuary, or cemetery. And this cemetery does not have an office or staff, much less a shipping address. Who better to contact for this request than the funeral home that buried the cousin? So, he called them to discuss the matter.

Excuse me? You HAVE his marker? It is sitting awaiting installation?

Yes. The funeral director recalled the service and marker. The VA had provided the gravestone shortly after the burial. And it had been sitting at the funeral home for years.

Br'er was more than a little confused.

The funeral director went on to explain that he had not been given permission or instruction from the deceased's daughter - who was the only person who could do so because she was the one who arranged the service and burial. Basically, she arranged for her father's burial and then headed for the horizon, never to be heard from again.

He did provide Br'er with all her contact data except a phone number. He was not permitted to share that.

Br'er sent an email requesting she grant permission for him to have her father's headstone placed. No response. A few months later, Br'er tried a letter. He included a document needing only her signature authorizing the funeral home to release the stone to him. She simply needed to sign it, place it in the addressed and stamped envelope provided, and drop it in the mail. This, too, proved a fruitless effort. More months go by with no response.

One could be forgiven for concluding that she had less than warm feelings for her father.

Br'er and Poppa Br'er chalked the whole thing up to "We tried." and moved on.

Fate Intervenes

Fast forward a year or so. The husband of a mutual first cousin of Poppa and the unmarked cousin passes away. Where should the funeral be? Yup! The same one that Br'er had contacted!

Surely this is a sign from the Universe! What better chance to make another attempt to obtain the languishing stone?

Before the service, Poppa Br'er and Br'er pull the funeral director aside for a chat. Br'er begins recounting their prior conversation, and his attempts to contact the MIA daughter. The funeral director recalled the conversations.

"I can show you where it is." he offered and began walking to the rear of the building. Br'er and Poppa Br'er following in hot pursuit. Exiting to the rear parking area, he gestured to a wood pallet nestled against the building on which sat two headstones. One being that of Poppa Br'er's cousin.

"I have no idea what happened to that marker. It sat here for years and just disappeared one day." said the funeral director before turning and re-entering the building.

Well, alrighty then!

So it came to pass that Br'er added "grave marker theft" to his long list of transgressions.

A Bonus

Br'er has, through certain channels, the acquaintance of a retired Army Chaplain. This chaplain keeps his hand in with soldiers. He may be officially retired from the Army, but he hasn't retired from tending his brothers in arms. And, he has that perverse sense of humor only obtained from serving in combat. Br'er knew he would delight in hearing how Br'er had "Tactically Acquired" (military slang for stolen without being caught) a soldier's headstone. In truth, there simply could not be a more appropriate way to mark a soldier's grave than with a "tactically acquired tombstone."

Not only did Chappy enjoy the story, but he absolved Br'er of the sins committed in obtaining the stone, and asked to be allowed to participate in setting the stone. As he put it, "This is a soldier who clearly needs to be remembered and saluted."

So, three miscreants will convene and see that a cousin and brother receives the remembrance and honor that is his due. Or maybe they already have.

Just in case you doubt this tale:

 

This is not a good trend

Tracking down extended branches of the family tree often results in surprising results. Not all of these are pleasant.

Such was the case tracking down some of Ol' Br'er's Autry kinfolk. Now, it is important to know that this branch of the family tended to stay within a couple of counties in northeast Georgia. So, you can imagine his surprise when he found a branch that had relocated near Atlanta, much closer to Br'er's home warren! So close were these graves that making a visit was a moral imperative.

On paper and maps, this is a large, urban cemetery. 

On paper.

In reality, it turns out to be another abandoned cemetery. Find A Grave cites more than 1,000 memorials. As is the case with so many of these cemeteries where the business operating them has gone bankrupt, burials continue to take place. Families that purchased plots still have the right to use them. It falls to the family to arrange for the grave opening and closing, headstone placement, etc. Usually, they contract through the funeral home to arrange all these things. But, since there are no centralized records, the family is responsible for specifying the exact grave location.

Much more interesting/terrifying was finding a couple apparently living in the cemetery!! They had a camper trailer set up and had clearly been there for some time. Granted, they did appear (as they claimed) to be mowing the grass and removing fallen trees. 

That did nothing to ease Ol' Br'er's danger signals. Something about the whole setup was just too sketchy for his comfort. Normally he keeps his pew-pew out of sight (unless he is alone in the hinterlands). Not this time. The pew-pew was deliberately and prominently displayed on his hip. Fortunately, he found his relatives in less than a minute, did the requisite updates to Find A Grave, and was back in the car and out of there almost as quickly.

These abandoned cemeteries are heartbreaking. As I understand it, today companies are required to set up financial investments that will cover future costs to maintain the property in perpetuity. But this is a very recent change, leaving hundreds or thousands of commercial cemeteries exempted from the law. And, the new laws do not impact private family cemeteries, either newly created or existing. Maintenance of these sites is the responsibility of the family. Should the family relocate or die off, no one is responsible for maintenance.

Should someone purchase a property where one of these abandoned burial sites is, they are under absolutely no obligation to maintain it. On the other side of that coin, they cannot alter or destroy it, either. Doing so and getting caught means stiff legal penalties.

Much as I would like to see these places better protected and maintained, I cannot support efforts calling for cities, counties, etc. to pick up that responsibly. Doing this would simply encourage people to deliberately abandon sites forcing government to pick up the expense. And, these maintenance costs would never cease. All that is before considering any liabilities assumed by taking over maintenance. Someone falls in the cemetery and sues whatever government level is maintaining the site.

Sadly, there are no good, easy options. 

 

The Dangers of Back Roads

Several months ago, Mrs. Br'er and I attended an out-of-state wedding. Rather than sticking to the interstate, we opted for some back roads. As is our wont, we periodically checked Find A Grave for anything interesting or nearby photo requests. If the request was close, in a small cemetery (we did not have the time or inclination to wander through thousands of graves), and we were so inclined at the moment, we would stop. Stretching the legs is always a good idea on a long drive. And, considering how remote some of these locations are, it was unlikely that anyone else would be looking to fulfill these requests.

Such was the case when we came upon Gillette United Methodist Church and its little graveyard. As you can see in the photos, it is a small country church dating to the early 19th century. It is located close enough to the coast that Spanish Moss survives in the trees.

This would make one helluva location for filming, telling ghost stories, having a Halloween Party, and any number of other activities. We ended up spending about an hour there. Far longer than we planned.

Totally worth it. In that hour, many two vehicles went past. It was absolutely quiet and idyllic. Everything one could hope for in a final resting place.

No idea if ZOE is a first name, last name, or initials. The size indicates a child.

One has to assume the Bates family was important to the area if they warrant a road named after them.
 

Thankfully, no one was watching

There is a danger when you foolishly try to fulfill Find A Grave photo requests for cemeteries out in the boondocks. Ok, more than one danger.

First off, you usually are faced with the decision of whether to trespass on private property or not.

Secondly, you have to pay attention to what you are doing.

Care to wager which one is a greater problem for Ol' Br'er?

Martin Cemetery looks like it is in a pasture. It is in a field next to the road, and there is an old barbed wire fence separating it from the road. I HATE barbed wire fences. Fortunately, this one is only three strands meaning there is a quite large space between them, making it somewhat easier to slip through between them.

I said easier, not foolproof. And, Ol' Br'er is the fool that proves it. Sure enough, I got myself off balance halfway through and ended up hitting the ground with a most embarrassing 'whomp!' Fortunately, though, my youthful instincts kicked in, and I tucked and rolled as I fell. No harm to anything save my pride. I did not even get my clothes caught on the fence.

Now. The really embarrassing part was that had I looked about fifteen yards further along the fence, I would have seen that it stopped. As in a massive gap of many yards allowing one to simply walk in. There was no need whatsoever to crawl through the damned fence.

Just damn.

And, to make matters worse, there were no visible markers for the photo requests. I went ahead and ensured all the markers are recorded, have photographs, and their GPS coordinates recorded as well.

So, all in all, not a total waste of time.

Not gonna lie. I would love to take some D/2 to the older, stained stones. I bet they would clean beautifully!