What a difference a few feet make

A week or so back, I wrote of Howard Bridge in which I mentioned a nearby cemetery of that family. So I thought I would share a little about that cemetery.

Or should I say Cemeteries?

To explain. Recall that much of the area ol' Br'er hops about is "out in the boondocks" to this day. The erudite term would be 'rural.' The less polite description might be 'middle of nowhere.' Directions to the place might start with "Go to the horizon and turn right."

If that is what it is like today, imagine how solitary it was for the first non-indigenous people to settle there in the late 18th century?

There is a church nearby, Cloud's Creek Baptist Church, that was founded in 1788. There are a few recorded or suspected burials at the church. But there is also a second cemetery for the church a short distance away.

You have probably already gotten to the next bit. Yes, it is literally adjacent to the Howard Family cemetery! In fact, unless you are sharp-eyed, you would not know there are two cemeteries here. Only a swath of open ground denotes the line demarking the two.

My eyes were immediately drawn to a tetrahedron stone. (I have only had the opportunity to use that word in certain gaming circles!) It is not a pyramid in the classic sense because there are only three sides visible at once. A pyramid has four equal triangular sides and a square base. A tetrahedron has four equal triangular sides.

I cannot easily date the tetrahedron, but the accompanying marker stating that there are slave graves here (obviously unmarked save by an occasional fieldstone) is clearly more modern. Still, this is only the second time I have encountered anything clearly noting the graves of slaves.
 

Ever Cenotaph?

Cen - Seen - It's the best I can do. Sue me.

Mrs. Br'er and I were on an expedition at Oakland Cemetery in Atlanta a while back, and something about these markers begged for attention. Nothing specific I could spot from a distance. Time to investigate!

Gloriosky, Sandy! Encountering one cenotaph is a rare enough thing. Encountering two, even more so. Finding two for brothers, almost side by side, who are both buried in the same distant cemetery? That's damned near a unicorn!
 

Jim

I am going off on a tangent here. No graves or cemeteries to speak directly to. But I came across a covered bridge after leaving the Howard Cemetery. (More on that at a later time) Surviving covered bridges are something of a rarity. That alone made stopping to see it worthwhile. 

But stopping became a moral imperative when I saw the name Howard and had left the Howard Cemetery just a mile or three behind me.

Today it is a classic 'bridge to nowhere.' A century ago, it was a crucial part of the local infrastructure. 

The two bollards (one does not often have an apropos moment to use the word 'bollards') make it clear that this is no longer an active bridge. There are other covered bridges in the general region that are still actively used.

Back in the day, there was a road on the other side of the bridge. Like so many other things, it has ceased to be used and is nigh on impossible to see any remanent of today. There is, though, a park and picnic area of sorts just past the bridge on the left. 

 Oh yes. Jim. "Why 'Jim?"" you ask?

Bridge-r. Jim Bridger.

Things That Make Me Wonder

Sometimes Ol' Br'er spots something on the webs that make his floppy ears perk up. Such was the case when he saw this grave marker photo a while back. (This has been sitting in the hopper to write about for some time!)

Now, Br'er has talked about "Retreads" before. But not, I think, about, what shall I call them? Three-treads? Yeah. That works! I get to coin a new word. Don't tell me if someone has already used it. Let me have my little moment of glory.

If you are familiar with the US Army Combat Infantry Badge (CIB), then you may know that it can only be awarded once for a given conflict. And that it was not even a thing until World War II. There are a limited number of people who have a third CIB award since it meant they had to:

• Be an infantryman satisfactorily performing infantry duties
• Assigned to an infantry unit during such time as the unit is engaged in active ground combat
• Actively participate in such ground combat

Until the current Global War on Terrorism era (I have NO idea if multiple CIBs may be awarded in that ear for different conflicts), the badge was limited to service in WWII, Korea, and/or Vietnam. Given those limitations, you can appreciate that there are relatively few people with a 3rd CIB award! 

Some of them may have left and returned to service and qualified as retreads. Maybe even three-treads. Either way, serving in three conflicts over a period of at least two decades is still worthy of note. I have encountered a few of the names on that 3rd award list.

But I have never before encountered someone who served in the Spanish American War, and both World Wars! That is service over four decades! 

Then I noticed Max's birthdate. July 1883. The Spanish American War lasted only 3 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days (Personally, I would have forced the end date one more day just for the symmetry. But I am an evil SOB). The dates were 21 Apr through 13 Aug 1898.

Any way you do the math, Max was in a war when he was 15 years old! And! If he was in during the first months (as would seem highly likely), then he was serving at 14!

I know he is not the only one to serve at such a tender age. But, damn! That has to be an elite group!

And, a last note, records give his retirement date as 31 July 1943 - two weeks after his 40th birthday. I would wager that retiring while WWII was still raging, and the result was still in question, had to be a bitter pill for him to swallow.

Rehoboth Redux and Another Mystery

Nigh on two years ago, I stumbled across a cemetery and ended up spending two full days on-site with it. Plus hours and hours doing research back in the warren. Read that story here.

The important thing to know is that I photographed all the headstones. Many had never been photographed before. Or, if they had been, the image was less than good.

Fast-forward to last week. Someone sent me a gracious Thank-You for the photo of someone in her family tree. That triggered my looking back at that family in the cemetery. One thought led to another, and the next thing I know, I am back in full-fledged research mode.

The family name, and one individual's name, in particular, kept tickling the back of my thoughts. I was just so familiar. Sure enough, it appeared in my tree as what I call a "marredinta." That is, someone who married into the family. In this case, a distant cousin. But, looking at the details, it could not be the same person. The date of birth was off by several decades.

Could they be related, though? Keep digging. I will spoil that part of the story by telling you upfront that there is no relationship that I can find. 

All that research took me down the proverbial rabbit hole. I was able to prove that two of the graves were of a father and infant son. That proof came from the father's will in which he explicitly named his wife, daughter, and infant son.

Sadly, that son only survived his father by a scant three months. At least I was able to link their memorials.

I could not let things drop there, so I kept on to see if I could also find the wife/mother and also link her memorial to the infant son.

She, it turned out, remarried about two years after becoming a widow. I found her listed in the 1900 census along with the daughter and mother-in-law of her first husband, her second husband, and another infant son who was just short of one year old. There could be no question that I had the right person. Indeed, the daughter was even listed as "Step-daughter." All of which brings us to the mystery I teased in the title.

With the 1900 Census, women were asked how many children they had born, and how many were living. You have to feel a pang when you see a woman listed as having born many childre, yet only a fraction of them were still alive. Or worse, none survived. I have seen a few cases where a woman had given birth to over a dozen children and, none survived. 

So, here I am, reading of one woman whom I know to have born three children, one of whom died four days before reaching his sixteenth month. And the other two are living in the same house as she. I read across the census columns to the children's counts.

1 born and 1 living.

How the hell did that get reported? I mean, I could understand if the memory of that first son was too painful to bring up. But with two children living in the house, how do you report just one?!

Add this to the long and growing list of questions I will never be able to answer.

The Tale of the Tumbling Tombstone

Ok. Upfront, I must confess a couple of things before I get started in earnest.

First, I hate using "Tumbling" in the title. It is misleading. I wanted to use "Wandering," but simply could not think of a word for a headstone or tombstone that started with a 'W', or even had a similar sounding first syllable as either name. I really wanted that lilting cadence in the title.

Second, I will not be divulging any names or locations this time. The details are sensitive. At least they could be. They should be. So I am erring on the side of caution. I think you will agree and appreciate this as you read further.

Once upon a time (Isn't that the most apropos intro to a Br'er Graveyard Rabbit spiel?), a young man died. He was mourned. He was buried, and his grave marked by a basic headstone. Under normal circumstances, that would be the end of the tale.

The circumstances were not to remain normal.

Separately, Br'er learned of a cemetery in a most unusual spot - a convenience/gas station parking lot. This odd juxtaposition was intriguing enough to warrant a visit. This had to be confirmed.

Sure enough, everything was as it seemed. Though, the details gleaned from seeing it in person were enlightening. First, the cemetery was old for the area, dating from the mid-19th century. It was obviously a family, and the story the stones told was as sad as expected. One grave held a young mother and her infant. The heartbreak of a husband and father, the tragedy of a broken family, and other facts were moving.

Additionally, the graves were almost under a raised mound. The surrounding area had been removed to level out the larger area when the site was developed from the farmland it must once have been. The result left the small area of the cemetery about four feet above current ground level. A retaining wall and fence had been added to protect the site.

With only a scant handful of graves recorded, I decided to audit the cemetery; to verify all the graves and update GPS. 

Then I see a much newer, unrecorded grave dating from the late 1990s - a century or more after the last burial. And the name does not appear to be related to any of the other graves. 

We have a right bizarre situation!

Now, understand that we are not describing some homemade, temporary, or tiny marker. This is a commercially produced granite headstone weighing several hundred pounds.  And it appears to have been deliberately set. Very strange.

Being unable to contain my imagination, I had to speculate how the marker came to be here. It seems most likely to me that this was a "guerilla" burial, probably for cremains. I've seen much the same thing in other places. Other tales for other times. I don't suppose I will ever know the truth.

I search for the memorial in Find A Grave and come up with nothing. So I add it as a new memorial and move on.

Fast-forward a few years and I get an email informing me that this person is not buried where I found the headstone, but in a municipal cemetery some 33 miles away, asking that I 'move' the memorial to the correct cemetery,

Ordinarily, I would not hesitate to apply any reasonable changes to a memorial requested of me. But this? No, I am going to have to demure since I personally saw the headstone in situ and created the Find A Grave memorial standing next to it. The person who had contacted me understood; and offered to recheck their facts and then contact me with more details.

Sweet! I had tried to find more details when I first found the grave but did not get anywhere.

A few days pass, and I have a new email updating me on the mystery marker. I doubt I could have dreamt up a story like this!

The person was, in fact, interred miles away in the municipal cemetery. The paper trail is solid. A person or persons unknown later decided to abscond with the headstone. For reasons beyond the comprehension of mere mortals, they dumped the headstone in the family cemetery where I found it.

That took dedication! Not that I would ever approve of vandalism, I can at least understand some lowlife toppling or moving a stone a few feet.

But thirty-plus miles? To place it in another cemetery? (Much less this cemetery.) That beggars the imagination!

As our little story unfolds, I learn that the deceased died committing armed robbery. And that he left a wife and four young children behind.

I have reassigned the Find A Grave memorial to the correct cemetery. And added the location details provided by the contact who originally brought the story to light.

As I write this, folks are coordinating efforts to return the headstone to the correct cemetery and place it at the correct gravesite. 

It is not often one hears of a wandering grave marker!

Yes, You Can Dig In A Cemetery And Not Get Arrested

Some years back, Br'er shared a tale about his researching a family cemetery. If you haven't read that, you may want to take a few minutes to peruse it for a basic understanding of the cemetery this post references.

Done? Ready to continue? Good. Let's go.

Papa Br'er wanted to do "Flower Day." This means two things. First, he has "tactically acquired" several cubic feet of silt flowers. (If you are unfamiliar with the term, ask any military veteran to explain it.) And second, he wants to go and place them on the graves of family and friends. 

This means a busy day for Br'er serving as chauffeur and general flunky. Today was no different. These excursions always entail a visit to two cemeteries. One is the sizeable perpetual care where Papa Br'er's parents, grandparents, and numerous friends are interred. The second is the small family cemetery noted above.

Today included a third location to place flowers on one of Papa Br'er's aunt's grave for one of his cousins. But that is not relevant to the matter at hand.

The first stop was the large cemetery. We split up to be as efficient as possible. Papa Br'er took the graves of his childhood friends. I took the family (primarily because I knew where these are). Because we got an early start, and I thought to take my cemetery gear bag with me, I was able to take a few extra minutes at each headstone to clear back the encroaching grass, weeds, and dirt. And to brush off any debris on the marker. Everything looked much better when I was done if I do say so myself.

Exercises like this inevitably mean hearing tales from Papa Br'er about the people whose graves we are decorating. Sometimes this means uncomfortable moments for Papa Br'er. Today involved one such moment.

We were decorating the graves of three brothers Papa Br'er hung around with 'back in the day.' He paused to read the dates on the markers. I mention that one looks more like a father or uncle to the other two. His birth year reads 1911 whereas the other two were born in 1937 and 1939. This, Papa Br'er confidently announces, is wrong. The third brother was not that old.

Naturally, this is a gauntlet thrown down to old Br'er. I whipped out the smartphone and executed a quick search on the elder brother. The first thing I pull up is the 1930 census. Hmm, his age in 1930? 19.

This was a stunning revelation to Papa Br'er. It was a classic "I now question my whole life" moment. And it was glorious.

Then it was off to the family cemetery mentioned at the outset.

And to the Great Discovery.

Just in case you haven't read the previous post, allow me to pull an Inigo Montoya and "sum up."

This is a small cemetery in a heavily wooded area that is, fortunately, next to a gravel road. It has at least two generations of my direct ancestors buried there. Possibly more in unmarked and unrecorded graves. It is near the homestead site where my paternal grandfather and his siblings were born. I have been working over the years to find the names of all those buried there that I can. And to uncover the relationships of each to my family. A married couple there, H G and Judie Lane with hand-marked concrete slabs remain a mystery (I have found the relationship to me line for all the other marked graves, and for those unmarked but reported or suspected to be buried there.  Yay, me!)

I suspect the reversed "N" is intentional rather than an illiterate error.

I find the horizontal guide lines on both markers fascinating.

We occasionally visit to clear brush, maintain the site, and swap out flowers in an effort to protect the cemetery. The reasoning being, if it looks visited and maintained then it less likely someone will disturb or destroy it. Hence "Flower Day." You can appreciate how many times we have walked these grounds over the years.

Imagine my surprise to see something new.

I noticed a straight line where I had not seen one before. Nature is not a big fan of straight lines, so it stood out in my mind.

Can you spot it?

How about now?

I grabbed my tools and started digging. What I found as a matrix of roots holding a combination of dirt and duff (Yes, that is a proper word in this case. It means 'decaying organic matter of a forest floor."). Some of the roots were upwards of a quarter inch thick and had to be cut. They were too thick and firmly in the ground to just pull up!

The whole thing eventually rolled back like a section of shag carpet revealing a slab marker no one - and I do mean no one - has ever recorded. It does not even appear in the volume of cemeteries published by the county historical society.

This is clearly a child's grave. It measures about 4 feet long and about 2 feet wide. H G Lane's marker is about 5 or 6 feet to the left as you stand looking at this marker in the photo.

"Ok, gang! We've got a mystery to solve!" - Fred Jones

Seriously? You don't know Fred Jones? Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby-Doo? Come-on, man!

Name, location, and size are good clues that this is a child of H G and Judie. So I dusted off my prior research to (unsuccessfully) link the Lanes to the my tree.

H G was Harrison Greene Lane (1825 - abt 1861). He married Judith Leak "Judie" Maddox in 1844. They went on to have several children :

Francis Jane (1845 - ? - still researching)

Joseph Laban (1848 - 1938)

Harrison (1850 - ?)

John Dixon (1850 - 1898)

James Charles (1851 - 1942)

William Bell (1853 - 1924)

Eliza A (1857 - 1954)

Harrison and John Dixon present a puzzle. Harrison appears on the 1850 census age 6/12. That page was dated September of 1850 making his birth March 1850. John D first appears on the 1860 census age 10. Harrison does not appear on the 1860 census at all.

What the . . . ?

Additional research fo John D gives a birth of 12 Mar 1850. Nowhere is there anything indicating John D and Harrison were twins. For the moment I am treating them as separate people. And based on that have a Find A Grave memorial for Harrison . But, I am seriously reconsidering this and facing the aparent likelihood that Harrison was renamed John D at some point in the 1850s. That fits the data better. More on this later.

Harrison Green died intestate in 1861. Judie does not appear in the 1870 census.

Joseph, John, Fanny (Francis), and Mittie (Eliza ) appear together on the 1870 census with 22 year-old Joseph as the head of house. Clearly their parents are dead by this point. 

But nothing about Alace.

I keep building out the Lane Family tree and find a copy of a handwritten family tree (list, really) for Joseph Laban Lane. It appears to be writen by one of his children as it refers to him as "Papa" several times.

It is a good thing I have atrocious handwriting. Being able to read what people like me write makes reading what people like this write.

Two things leapt out from this handwritten version in comparison to what I had found from all the other sources. 

First, no one named Harrison is on the handwritten history, though John Dixon is. 

Second, Alice (who died in infancy) is listed as being born between William Bell and Eliza. These two I have birth dates for!

Let's look at the first item. I know that Harrison was born in March of 1850 because he was 6 months old in late September of that year. And, John Dixon's birth date is given as 12 mar 1850. Let's think about this. There is noting on either the 1850 or 1860 censuses, nor in anything else indicating that Harrison and John Dixon are twins. Indeed, the data would tend to indicate that they are not. The only other logical conclusion then is that at some point between the two censuses Harrison was renamed to John Dixon. It is not like that was an unusual occurrence back in the day. And, it is not as if there was anything preventing parents (or even the person) just changing a name. It did not have to be filed with a court or the government.

So, I am now leaning to the conclusion that Harrison and John Dixon are one and the same, and that the Find A Grave memorial I created for Harrison should be deleted. Sadly, of all the children of Harrison Green and Judie, John Dixon is the only one whose grave I cannot find. He married in 1881 and fathered several children before passing away in Greene County, Ga about 1898. His widow appears in that county in 1900 with the children and listed as a widow.

I was fascinated to learn that another of the siblings, Joseph Laban Lane, served in the Confederacy (apparently notably), and received a formal invitation by the U.S. Government to attend the famed 75th Anniversary reunion at Gettysburg. I don't see any evidence that he was at the battle, so I suspect this was an invitation issues to every living veteran of the war.

Now we come to Alice. 

Elder sibling, William Bell was born 9 Jul 1853. That means that the absolute earliest Alice could have been born would have been around Mar 1854.

Younger sibling, Eliza, was born 24 Jul 1857. Using the same generous math, that means the latest Alice could have been born was Oct or Nov 1856.

Let's be honest, those dates mean pushing biology to the limit. It is far more likely that her birth was some months later than Mar 1854 and some months earlier than Oct 1856.

Taking into consideration the birth dates of all the siblings, there is a pattern of a 1-2 year gap between each birth. The one exception being the 5 year gap between the first two children, Frances J and John Dixon. 

All this makes a compelling case that Alice was born in 1855 and died in either 1855 or 1856. Though it is possible that she was born late in 1854. Still, the pattern screams out to me. I prefer the symmetry of an 1855 birth. 

And, frankly, the gap between Frances J and John Dixon makes me wonder if there was not another child born and lost between these two that was simply never spoken of. If that was the case, it would make the birth pattern all but perfect! Is it morbid of me to say that I actually want this to be true?

I don't care. I want it to be true!

At this point, I am in full-bore research euphoria. I cannot stop. So I press back on Harrison Green and Judie's lines. That revealed a bit of irony.

Harrison Green's paternal grandfather served in the American Revolution.

Judie's ancestor? He was a Tory (British Loyalist)! And he is noted in the above referenced family history as owning the land on which the Battle of Kettle Creek took place (A small victory for the American Rebels, and one of only a handful of actions in Georgia during the war).

Care for another little coincidence? Guess who had a 5th Great-Uncle who was a Captain in the American forces at the Battle of Kettle Creek?

If you guessed Old Br'er then you guessed right!

How odd the long chain of totally unrelated events that led to an infant girl being buried and forgotten in a remote family cemetery with some of Br'er's ancestors and family only to have Br'er rediscover her grave almost 170 years later?