All But Forgotten

 I have often commented on how the graves of children - and especially infants - are arguably the saddest to encounter. A life cut so short and the grief of new or nearly parents is tragic.

But I think I need to amend that sentiment.

As tragic as the death of any child is, finding a child's grave that has clearly been lost, overlooked, and neglected, and which you cannot even link to a family, is more tragic still. I encountered just this case recently.

We had set out to visit some nearby family cemeteries (no relations - just an excuse to tramp about in a cemetery). These were pretty much in residential areas and each had only a handful of memorials in it.

Whaley Cemetery turned out to be in a small neighborhood, sitting in a small plot adjacent to a home, and on the 'corner' of a cul-de-sac entry. With three recorded memorials, taking a couple of minutes to GPS tag each was a moral imperative. 

But there were more than three graves. Several are totally unmarked save perhaps a field stone. But two were not. One was only a footstone with initials which I logged anyway. 

Then there was Lora's small headstone. 13 months 2 weeks old. Tragic. But even more touching is that there is no obvious connection between Joel Whaley (the progenitor in this cemetery) and a Wood family. Who were this child's parents? How did she come to be here? And more maddening, why was her grave overlooked or ignored when this cemetery was created in Find A Grave? The entire cemetery isn't much larger than a two car garage. And her headstone is mere feet from the large Whaley stone. How and why was she ignored?

Addendum: I spent some time trying to suss out who this child's parents might be based on Census records. Sadly I cannot place a Wood family anywhere near the Whaley family in either the 1870 or the 1880 Census. And there is nothing about little Lora in any on-line reference.

Pounds Cemetery

 Where is the most obvious place to find a family cemetery? Why in an industrial park, naturally. In this case Old Br'er himself actually earned his carrots working in one of the nearby buildings. Yet he never so much as heard about this place in all those years.

One look and you would naturally know this leads to an old cemetery. Duh!

One of those little details that haunt me. Note the furthest "table" grave cover. It does not actually have the slab visible, only the 'legs'. Were you standing there and looking down you would see a slab at the base, flat on the ground. None of the other versions have a slab at ground level, only atop the legs. Now look closer. All the legs for all the memorials tape up from the ground. Rather like obelisks with the tops cut off. 

Now. Either that last grave is missing the top (by design or destruction) OR it is upside down (which would have taken more than a little effort!). If the former, why did it get two slabs and the others only one? If the latter, why are the legs reversed?

The stone walls are for False Tombs. On the left is a probable single grave, though it is large enough to perhaps be two. On the right is an obvious triple grave, and possibly a quadruple. Alas, none of these have anything indicating a name. One could speculate on who is where based on identified graves adjoining them and the dates for persons recorded as being buried in the cemetery. These False Tombs - especially this style - is rather common in the Southern US for periods in the 19th Century. But it would remain only speculation.

What was particularly unusual about this cemetery is that there is a recent interment. A mere five years ago. Prior to that the last recorded burial was in 1905! 105 years 9 months later to be precise! A little digging shows this last burial to be the 3rd Great-grandson of the patriarch of this family. His 2nd GGF is buried here as well. 

It is worth noting that this 2015 date is most probably for cremains. There is no indication of an actual grave being dug, and there is a stone border in place that is fare too small to be a full grave. This would also make sense as getting equipment in to excavate a grave would be nigh on impossible for the site. 

And I don't think anyone would be carrying a casket and vault in by hand, either! Just getting the headstone in place had to be a serious effort.

I've heard of "pouring one out" for a fallen comrade. But I can't recall finding entire beers being left before. I would have thought James warranted better than Miller, though.

Rowden Family Cemetery

Blink and you miss it! Another 'postage stamp' cemetery.

 

That white spot at the base of the trees to the left of the utility pole is a headstone!

Try as I might I cannot find anything telling the story. And I really want to hear the story!

"Covered Wagon Girl"? That is the only name that survived to be recorded on a marker? Was she mute and illiterate so could not give her name? Was she mentally incapable of knowing her name? Was she a child? Was she found dead in a covered wagon? Not knowing is maddening!

Granted, this stone was obviously placed a century or so later, so it may be based more on lore and less on fact. That the stone is newer is clear not only based on the marker itself, but also by the VA marker for Hubbard Rowden.

That is NOT an older marker! Worth noting that he is cited as serving in the War of 1812. Well, yes and no. Something many folks do not know is that anyone serving in the period of the War of 1812 is considered a veteran OF the War of 1812. In Hubbard's case he was in the Georgia Militia at the time. That qualified him to have it listed on his VA headstone. 

Something else many people do not know is that anyone who served honorably in the military - including militia and Confederacy - may receive a US Government issued headstone (or brass marker) from the Veterans Administration at no charge. The amount of time elapsed since the person's death and the marker request is not a factor providing that there is proof of burial location AND there has not been a previous marker issued - one to a customer. You may have to prove relationship to the veteran. For example, Sons of the American Revolution can no longer request a marker for a American Revolution Patriot (they could decades ago). The request has to come from a descendant of the veteran. 

The condition of the Hubbard's headstone clearly indicates that it is either a recent placement OR someone has done a stellar job of cleaning it recently. I am betting on the former.

Huff Cemetery

I will refrain from the obvious 'went off in a Huff' references.

It is astounding the number of families that distant kin married into. Though considering the number of generations involved it really should not be.

Today's journey took us to a rather interesting family cemetery. So often these places are abandoned and overgrown. Not so this Huff Cemetery! In fact, there was even a notice posted:

Now I can understand the 'We are full' sentiment. But is people just digging graves really a problem in this day and time? 

All I can imagine is the independent Hit Man needing someone to dispose of his latest contract.

There are a number of large Oak trees keeping the area in almost total shade. This means little vegetation. Initially the impression I get is more of a location nearer to the Colonial Coast. If there were Spanish Moss in the trees this could easily be Savannah and environs. After a few minutes I realize that what I am remembering is not the coast, but Grandma Rabbit's place. She took great pride in her little yard - also shaded by a couple of large trees - not having a single blade of grass nor anything green or growing other than the trees. And she kept a Brush Broom (A broom made of tiny branches instead of straw like a house broom. Picture something closer to a stereotypical Witch's Broom) at the ready. That yard was swept daily. Any leaves, sticks, acorns, or anything else that despoiled her yard was quickly swept away. The dirt was carefully and diligently swept and brushed into either a pleasant pattern or utter nothing according to her whims of the day. A Buddist Monk would be as proud to have such results in the temple Zen Garden.

Obviously folks here had the desire and means to commemorate their ancestors. There were at least two large stones erected to record them.

Oy! Walking here from Atlanta today would take several days. Google maps gives the time needed as 21.5 hours. That is just non-stop walking time. Factor in any breaks for food, biology, rest, and sleep and the time only increases. And that is for healthy people on modern roads. At the time the roads would have been little more than dirt or mud. It had to take the better part of a week back then.

As we arrived here later in the day, plumb tuckered from a day in the summer sun and heat, and considering there are almost 300 listed graves in the cemetery, a full audit is not in the cards. We have to content ourselves in finding the kinfolk and GPS tagging them.  

One is the loneliest number

 Ever pass a small cemetery many times and each time say to yourself, "I have to remember to check that place out." only to forget to do it? I have. More times than I can recall. So when I passed this little fenced cemetery for about the 100th time I simply stopped right then and there.

Fewer than 11 listed graves, but not all photographed. After I had audited all the markers and had two remaining I was about to write them off as having no markers when my activities attracted the attention of the older lady who lived next to the site. Naturally she had to come and insure I was not up to anything nefarious.

I explained myself to her satisfaction and mentioned the two unmarked graves. She perked up and told me one of them is not actually in the cemetery. It is several yards away in the wooded area adjacent to the cemetery. 

And so the hunt was on!

It took only a couple of minutes, with her help, to locate the marker. 

She shared with me that the area had not always been as overgrown. That she had placed the bunny figurine with it.

This child's grave is another in the long line of stories that are lost to the mists of time. 

1867 was just after "The Recent Unpleasantness". Reconstruction was underway and the South was broken. Few people had excess money. Hell, few had money at all! This is a very high quality headstone in terms of both materials and workmanship. It had to be expensive at the time. Something few could afford. Yet here it is.

And why here? Alone? Granted the next burial was not for another 20 years or so. Still, why were the other burials not here with her instead of removed as they are.

Questions like this bore into my mind. I can write so many stories to explain them. Alas, we will never know the truth behind them.

Moving Cemeteries

 All cemeteries are, to one degree or another, a moving experience. But this one takes that into a whole new direction.

While searching for a Great-Aunt's grave I happened upon what at first glance looked like a family plot in the rear of the cemetery. It was surrounded by a well maintained hedge with one opening to allow access. In that access point stands a marker that is clearly not a grave marker.

This bears investigation!

I have encountered relocated graves before. And I have heard about relocated cemeteries, but never encountered one. A little investigate reveals that the original cemetery site is now submerged. It is under the surface of a reservoir constructed to manage the county water supply. Fortunately for the relatives (of which old Br'er is not one) all 47 graves were moved here. Into a cemetery within a cemetery.

That's a new one on me, too.

Robison Cemetery

 I have come to loathe Goldenrod. Walking through this place (once I found it) was like walking through one of the Southeastern Asia festivals where participants pelt each other with powdered colored chalk. Except in this case it was all yellow. It was almost as though someone deliberately planted the stuff so as to cover every square inch of the cemetery. Every step, every movement, disturbed at least 3 stalks of the damned stuff releasing literal clouds of vivid yellow pollen.

I haven't sneezed so much in my life. Trying to read headstones was an exercise in frustration due to the constant flow of tears. Between sweating in the summer heat coupled with the copious tears and nasal ... discharges ... I was truly concerned about dehydrating! 

But with fewer than three dozen graves completing the audit was not a problem. Well, aside from the wheezing and sneezing it was not a problem. 

Finding it, however, was the challenge. Not that it was hidden or far off the road or anything like that. No, in this case it was because the Find A Grave coordinates were off my about a hundred or so yards. And the road signs had different names in places than what shows on on-line maps. Basically I was being sent to the wrong place using incorrect street names. Fortunately I was able to spot a clue that put me on track.

A clue. Yeah. How about a street sign reading "Robison Cemetery Rd"? Given that I was searching for Robison Cemetery it was a safe bet that the cemetery should be on or near it somewhere. And considering that the road is only some 75 yards long I could be pretty sure that I was close to my destination. Problem was that the directions in hand had me looking in the opposite direction for about 10 minutes. It was only when I was about to give up and move on to another destination that I saw the sign. 

Just Damn.

And yes, that name is Robison. Not Robinson. I can't recall finding that name before. 

Infant graves are always sad, but seeing one like this is all the more poignant. 

The tree stump and dead or dying bird were popular icons in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. But I have only seen one or two where the bird's wing is extended like this.

Georgia has an abundance of granite. But this type with the variegated color strata are infuriating. Even when there is no dirt, lichen, moss, or such material on the surface it remains infuriatingly difficult to read. I keep finding markers like it all over the area.