Something, is coming…

Kristine — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 16:41:50 +0000

We do promise that an update is in the works, but a sudden change in life has temporarily postponed our usual Friday updates. Let’s just say, Headstoners: Illinois might be coming to a blog near you soon-ish…

Finishing It Up

Megan-Marie — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 16:55:04 +0000

This just in — procrastination is really healthy. Which is why I’m bringing you Broderick Cemetery today. Now, despite its name, this cemetery turns out to be one of the most depressing we have ever been to.

Broderick Cemetery Sign

Broderick Cemetery is in Union County off State Route 245. We have driven past this cemetery on our way to Columbus a hundred times in the last ten years, but never gone to it. In October of last year, it became our first Union County cemetery, and it still remains the only. Oddly, all we do is drive through Union Co., although the Marysville city cemetery is on our list.

Stones in Broderick

Okay, so about Broderick! Well, according to Find-A-Grave, it boasts a stunning 88 interments, but according to our pictures, it boasts a . . . whopping amount of not being properly cared for. Now, perhaps it was the cold–Broderick was the last stop on our October 26th cemeterypalooza, and the temperature dropped very fast–and perhaps it was the fact that the sun was setting and all my pictures were coming out like I’d taken them at midnight during a new moon, but neither of us liked this cemetery, and we all got the distinct impression that it was depressing and unpleasant.

I wish I had more to say about it. It sits out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by fields, but is directly off the state route, and it is easy to pull off and park. Sometimes the gate is open and sometimes it is not. A lot of the stones have toppled; and I would guess a number never had stones at all. Many have clearly been replaced or more recently provided; the cemetery is obviously no longer in use. As for the name, it’s anyone’s guess — as far as I can tell, nobody named Broderick is buried here.

Pretty much all I remember about this cemetery is being cold and depressed and feeling rather as though I didn’t want to be there, so we’ll put this one low on the list of cemeteries worth visiting. Maybe I’d feel differently during the summer, but . . . I don’t think so.

A hidden gem

Kristine — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 05:05:32 +0000

The next to the last weekend in January the weather here in Ohio perked up a little (little did we know what was coming!), and we were looking for some cheap entertainment (which isn’t really cheap with gas prices but work with me). Given that I just got a new-to-me car in December that came equipped with a GPS system (thanks, Honda) we got a little giddy with trying to find somewhere to go after our picnic in Green Lawn. After attempting to find Silent Home Cemetery in Reynoldsburg (don’t believe the addresses) we decided to go to this little nerd hole-in-the-wall shop called Starbase on the east side of Columbus… that was interesting. We’re Star Wars people, not Star Trek people, so not as successful as it could have been, but it led us to this gem that was right down the road…

Pioneer Cemetery

Since this was so spontaneous, we didn’t really know what to expect from it, and at first it looked like it was mostly modern burials which just aren’t as interesting as older headstones. However, we then stumbled onto one of the most well-preserved, beautiful sections in any of the cemeteries we’ve been to. While many of the older sandstone monuments are able to keep inscriptions well, they often flake off in layers leaving them cracked and worn and the part holding the inscription just plain gone. I’m not sure if the somewhat secluded spot has kept them sheltered from the harsher weather or if someone has just taken an active interest in them, but it was truly an amazing find.

Rows of intact headstones

Because the area was so well-preserved, it made for some really interesting photos. There were several well-preserved inscriptions to read that told a lot of history, and we probably would have spent a little more time there if it hadn’t been getting late and we had a long drive home. There were several burials from the early-mid-1800s and apart from one corner in the western part of the grounds, almost all of the extensive grounds are newer burials that are ongoing.

To get to Pioneer Cemetery, take 270 from either direction to exit 29 and head north. The cemetery will be easily visible on the left side soon after exiting. Turn left at the light, and there will be to entrances/exits around the curve in the road.

For the rest of the pictures from our trip, click here.

The Boy in Green Lawn

Megan-Marie — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 20:40:58 +0000

Christmassy George

Today’s post is about one of the most popular monuments in the Green Lawn Cemetery of Columbus, Ohio. It’s not one of my favorites, but it’s been coming up an awful lot for the last couple weeks, so I thought I’d post about him. Let me open ‘er out by quoting an AP article featured in the Columbus Dispatch in December. (Original/complete article can be seen here: http://www.dispatch.com/live/content/local_news/stories/2009/12/23/george.ART_ART_12-23-09_B1_UDG3A4V.html?sid=101)

As a light snow fell yesterday at Green Lawn Cemetery, someone made sure 5-year-old George Blount was dressed warmly. George, who was decked out in a Santa hat and plaid scarf, has been a fixture at Green Lawn since 1873. For years, visitors have decorated his grave site, which is marked by a life-size stone statue of a young boy. No one who works at Green Lawn knows who decorates the grave. Sandi Latimer, volunteer coordinator at the cemetery, said George’s grave is near the back, making it easy for decorators to slip in unnoticed. . . . Latimer affectionately refers to him as “Georgie” and says his grave is a frequently requested stop when she conducts tours of the cemetery. . . . Linda Burkey, the cemetery’s general manager for 13 years, said that as long as she has been there, George’s grave has been decorated. “Out of all the other graves, his is the most decorated,” Latimer said as she removed the hat and scarf. She said she has to remove the items because they can hold in moisture and harm the statue. Yesterday, stuffed animals lined the base of the marker. Water guns, action figures and Hot Wheels cars were scattered around, as well. A fresh candy cane rested in his lap. “I’ve found all kinds of things: Mardi Gras beads, baseball caps — even sunglasses on him in the summertime,” Latimer said. Gary Best, a German Village resident, was there yesterday, walking his dogs, Gabriel and Wheezer. “I think it’s interesting that, after all these years, people still put stuff out there,” he said. “It’s a sad story, and I guess people are just fascinated with that.” Latimer added: “Almost every cemetery has something that plays on the heartstrings of the public. And here, it’s little Georgie.”

Now, “Georgie” hasn’t been of a lot of interest to your local Headstoners here, for whatever reason. He is buried in a part of Green Lawn we don’t traverse much. The first time we came across him, we didn’t know there was any kind of a story about him. I just remember exclaiming because the statue held an A&W root beer can. The picture on the right here of George with the flowers is one of my favorites, though. This I find tasteful and even pleasant. (I have a long rant at the bottom about people leaving junky stuff on this grave; if you’re likely to be offended by that, please skip over that part and have a great day!) As just a quick side note, I would point out that the Headstoners are not aware of any ghost stories or hauntings in association with this grave stone.

George in the Springtime

Now, the story of George goes back 137 years–as of this Sunday, actually.

“Little Georgie,” as some refer to him, was the only child of Eli and Sarah Blount. Eli was the owner and proprietor of the American Hotel in downtown Columbus. On 7 February 1873, the family was getting ready to go out and little George, only 5 years old, decided that the fastest way to get downstairs was to slide down the bannister. Sadly, the railing broke and George fell; he died eight days later,

writes Amy Crow of Amy’s Genealogy, etc., blog. She adds, in a nice touch, I think, ”People regularly leave toys at his grave. . . . It’s almost as if he’s been adopted by countless people in central Ohio.”

"Our Georgie"

On Valentine’s Day of that year, The Columbus Dispatch ran an article entitled “A Terrible Accident!” And in very typical nineteenth-century style, it described a very detailed account of poor George’s fate:

A Little Boy Falls Over Stair Bannister at the American House and is Fatally Injured — His Death this Morning.

This community will be painfully shocked at the announcement that little George A. Blount, only child of Colonel Blount, proprietor of the American House, has died from fatal injuries received by falling over the stairway banister from the second to the first floor, striking his forehead on a heavy iron stove hearth at the bottom of the staircase hall. The accident occurred on Friday, the 7th inst., and death ensued this (Friday) morning, eight days of intense anxiety to the parents and friends having elapsed between the fall and it’s fatal effect. A similar accident happened to the child about one year ago. Since that time the watchful eyes of his parents and the hotel employees have been constantly upon him to prevent a repetition of the accident; but, notwithstanding all the case that could be taken, it came when least expected, and at a moment when the household was enjoying the best pleasures of life, health, happiness and prosperity.

Mr. Blount had ordered a carriage for his wife, who was going out to ride, and she, with her son, started for their private apartments from the office floor. The little boy, it seems, had forgotten something in the office, and suddenly remembering that fact at the room door, dashed down the stairs as his mother entered the apartment, taking a ride on the smooth bannister rail as the quickest means of reaching his destination.

Mr. Cashatt, clerk in the office, heard the sound of the fall, as did a porter in another room, and both hastened to the spot the porter reaching the helpless and bleeding form first. Mr. Blount was there in a moment, and carried his boy up stairs, where he remained until death came and relieved him from suffering.

Doctors Loving, Smith and Frankenberg were called, and the latter remained in constant attendance while life remained, administering such relief as was suggested by the associated physicians. The child was unconscious part of the time, partly from the effect of choloform and partly from the injury, and when the fever in his body touched the brain convulsions folloed. After four o’clock P. M. Thursday he became entirely oblivious to all that occured in the room, and remained in that condition until he died. He must have fallen head foremost, as the greatest injury was upon the head. A cut across the forehead and a large black bruise over the left eye were the only contusions on the body. The bruise closed the left eye, and it remained closed, except upon one or two occasions when it was opened only for a few minutes.

The face of the child was familiar to many who have been guests in the house, and among attaches he was a general favorite. Everybody called him Georgie, and all who knew him, with the very extensive circle of acquaintances enjoyed by his father and mother, will deeply sympathize with the parents in this sad bereavement. His age was five years and five months.”

Junk on the statue

Now that I’ve told you, or rather, reported to you George’ s story, I have just a couple of observations, though, of my own; perhaps not in the typical tone one hears in association with this monument. First of all, I note that in the article, it states that young Master Blount here has the most decorated monument in Green Lawn cemetery. This is true–but only because, for some reason, they have waived their decorating policy for him (or rather, for the people who leave stuff there). Point 9 in their regulations states, “No toys, lawn ornaments or frivolous decorations are permitted.” And they are removed from other graves–not Georgie’s. (I approve wholeheartedly of this rule, BTW; I’ve been to cemeteries that don’t have similar requirements and some graves look like somebody’s yard sale, cheap crap everywhere. Geeze, guys.) Yes, I said “junk” on the statue. It’s fetishism, people, this piling up of stuff on a grave of someone who cannot possibly by of any relation whatsoever. And it’s tacky looking. (I said I liked the flowers! They’re cute. I don’t mind tasteful things–I mean, I’m the girl who bought a ceremic hedgehog to put on the grave of a great-grandfather I never met. Maybe one or two little toys would be appropriate, but all this junk? Like a kid born in 1867 would understand what half that stuff even was.)

My second point may offend some people, but I’m looking at what Latimer said about objects such as hats and scarves trapping moisture and damaging the statue. In that case, allow me to call it vandalism. Now, I will only hold that charge of vandalism if the people responsible for putting hats and scarves on him have since December never picked up a newspaper (many Ohio papers carried this AP story) and missed the fact that these seemingly harmless decorations cause damage to the statue. But the winter pictures of Georgie you see here were all taken a month after this article ran, and you notice he is hatted and scarved again–and if the person who restored them read the article, then shame on him or her! This is by no means my favorite monument in Green Lawn, but if people keep acting silly about it, it’s not going to be there for future taphophiles to enjoy. How’d you like to show up at Green Lawn one day to see little Georgie’s head cracked in half? Or his head in his lap? Come on, folks. Let’s be sensible. Remember being sensible?

Halloween in… January?

Kristine — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 02:19:24 +0000

There are a few things in the lives of the Headstoners that really create that moment where a large choir dressed in ornate robes steps out from some unknown hammerspace and begins a rousing sustained note of biblical proportions, but getting to visit the inside of Green Lawn Abbey was one of those.

Green Lawn Abbey -- Dec. 27, 2008

While we had been to the massive Green Lawn Cemetery independently over the years, that first time we pulled down Greenlawn Avenue together in the late summer of 2003, we knew someday we’d have to get in and see the abbey. However, we’re what I call sensible (Megan calls it scared) and seeing as I get caught every time I do something I shouldn’t, we knew better than to attempt to gain access. Once we did pull up through the beautiful circular driveway, but that was scary enough for me.

The Headstoners pose Oct. 24 in front of historic Green Lawn Abbey in Columbus before taking part in the Tales from the Crypt program.

Though we drove by at later dates and saw the doors open, we did no more than dare to snap a picture (that I can’t even find now). Then slowly the security grew tighter and alarms were installed and it really became out of the question–rightfully and thankfully so.

Thus the reason we pounced (almost literally) on the opportunity to tour it as part of the fantastic Tales from the Crypt program put on Oct. 24 by the Green Lawn Abbey Preservation Society. The best part being we not only finally got to see the inside of that haunting structure, but we also got to meet several of its residents live and in person. They even came to visit in their own clothing and agreed to share their stories. Very nice of them!

I wish I had pictures of the inside, which was even prettier and imposing than we expected, but the sad reality is that while some people like us simply want to marvel at the fixtures without touching, others are simply looking to make a buck and are willing to take advantage of anyone and everyone. Our visit was within days of the disturbing theft of several of the bronze gates from inside, the second in about a week, so no pictures were allowed to be taken inside as they were trying to keep updated photos off the Internet. Of course, we were about the only people who actually listened to this rule… so maybe you can find some. No respect anymore, I tell you. Thankfully some of them were later found when the thief tried to sell them at a pawn shop.

Over all, it was a great experience! It was everything we had hoped for and more. The preservation society is doing really good work, and one of these days we will become unlazy enough (or unbusy… plus, living an hour from Columbus doesn’t help) to actually join and start helping. There’s been a lot of work to fix it up that is still continuing, which is why they are actively trying to recruit even more people. They’ve planned the second annual membership meeting at 6:30 p.m. Tuesday, Feb. 16, at the Banana Bean Cafe, 340 Greenlawn Ave., Columbus, which is across from Berliner Park. As of now we can’t make it, but would love as many readers as possible to go. They recommend arriving before 6 to order food and drinks from the cafe that features soup, salad and sandwiches. The meeting is basically to hear about what happened in 2009 and the goals for 2010, and a chance to sign up for committees and programs. Reservations are requested to greenlawnabbey@aol.com. You can also visit http://www.greenlawnabbey.org/ for more information as well as pictures of both the outside and inside during the day.

Other than that, please do like the picture says and stay the heck out! There is nothing that justifies theft, especially from a historic place such as this. You can see the rest of our pictures from the trip at our photo site: http://headstoner.shutterfly.com/558.

Ur doin’ it wrong!

Megan-Marie — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 23:57:42 +0000

Cemetery restoration is hard. You might remember we’ve posted about it a couple of times, sometimes with criticism where it has been done badly, and sometimes with lavish praise where it has impressed us, but now–courtesy of the “There, I Fixed It” blog–I have an example that may make me never again be quite so hard on those restoration artists who choose to do their noble work in . . . well, materials other than duck tape. (Enjoy!)

http://thereifixedit.com/2010/01/01/someone-made-a-grave-mistake/

A Sweet Little Walnut

Megan-Marie — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 22:35:42 +0000

You see how upsetting Broderick Cemetery was? So upsetting I couldn’t even bring myself to post about it! Eh, I’ll get to it one day, but it just was not worth going on about. But I have a delightful little gem I’d like to share with you, so here goes.

Saturday was the day after Christmas which means Half Price Books 20% off sale. While we were there, it was a good time to play with the new GPS in Kristine’s car, which displays cemeteries in blue. So we discovered Walnut Grove Cemetery, which actually has an enormous entrance right on High Street that we have missed a billion times. The only entrance we found that wasn’t gated off, though, was on the corner of Milton and Lincoln in a little residential nook. This cemetery is delightful, and actually huge; it contains a complete second section over a footbridge that goes right up to the backyards of the neighborhood. The rest of it sprawls over a wide area neatly marked off by little streets with names like Buckeye, Beech, Maple, and Cemetery. There is a full-size mausoleum as well as a cemetery office.

A view of part

The footbridge

Eclectic if nothing else, Walnut Grove offers some great headstones for any enthusiast. I regret to report that because of freezing temperatures, we did very, very little with it, but here are some of our favorite highlights of the visit. At least it was sunny, so great pictures!

The Cheeseman!

I wonder if he's related?

That's ... just weird

What does that even mean?

He always had to get the last word.

It’s Like Woodstock, But With . . . Headstones

Megan-Marie — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 14:24:33 +0000

: The Gate at Woodstock

I have apologies for you, if you’re interested. It is ironic that the Friday the 13th post did not come through, but I have a good reason for it. Not that it was Friday the 13 and this is one of the creepier monuments and biggest “WTF?” moments of all our headstoning experience, but because I got a new laptop computer! (“squee,” as the youngsters these day say, I think?) And last week, the files weren’t all transferred yet. So I didn’t have any pictures and it made it hard to work on this. I will give you more than I have been–our ulterior picture site is still in the works–but this cemetery ended up being so incredibly WTF that I can’t pass it up.

Woodstock is yet another tiny unincorporated settlement in northern Champaign County. It was an unplanned stop made by Lincoln’s funeral train, though, before it went through the aforementioned Cable and down to popular Urbana, Ohio. But to be perfectly frank with you . . . I am skipping directions for the time being because I don’t exactly remember how we got to the cemetery. It was pretty obvious, though, although definitely an awkward turn. We weren’t planning to get out because by this time we were getting kind of cold and tired, but as we drove along we began to exclaim, “What is that? WHAAAT is that?” And that which I am about to show you definitely deserved some face time. The following is what happens when your relative is an amateur scuptor and aspiring geneaologist and someone has told him he is really good at either. And yes. It has its own glass canopy. Hey, wouldn’t want all that “lovely” sculpting work to be marred by the elements, would we?

Creeptacular or just bizarre?

This is the memorial of . . . well, about 50 people. The Cushman, Hewitt, and Gifford families are memorialized here with bas relief and statuesque forms of themselves done in, ah, cement. Apparently. Whatever this stuff is, it’s rough. Names are identified in marble strips or squares attached to the, um, main . . . structure, with epitaphs like “Grandma Cushman,” “Auntie Jackson,” and “Sister Lucy Hewitt,” and the far less informative “Scott” and “Charlotte.”

Instantly Recognizable . . . as People!

The marble plates at the top detail the entire life story and history of the Cushmans and their arrival to Ohio. But wait! There’s more! If you haven’t had enough of inexplicable statues, lists of names, and vaguely creep bas relief busts of people with indeterminate names, walk around behind the, ah, monument.

Roll of something . . .

Now, this is perhaps really inexplicable, as there is another tombstone dedicated to listing this selfsame roll of honor. But I guess he was out of Cushman history to put on there and really wanted this thing to have four fully covered sides. (Around the base of this thing, incidentally, apart from the names of the three families, are the names of wars I presume they were involved in, and that the sculptor wasn’t simply listing wars off the top of his head.) Nice Fedora on the guy in the bottom center, though.

Sister Lucy, oh the time has come . . .

Oh, yeah, I said “four sides.” In all, there are six larger-than-life sculptures flanking the ends, and sixteen of the little bust sculptures surrounding the bottom. Some of the large statues even deserve lengthy descriptors in marble. Now, while I agree this is a really clever way to combine cemetery memorialization and family history, unfortunately, this is . . . well, look, I’m going to be really honest about it, okay? This is really ugly. And not particularly well sculpted. Or whatever you do with cement. I would have chosen another medium, personally. And perhaps not weighted it down so much with some twenty-four, twenty-five people on it. But that’s what you get, you know. But enough suspense. Let’s meet our intrepid artist.

"Sculptor," eh?

Ah, yes, the late great Warren S. Cushman! Huh? Who? Well, according to the very useful website AskArt, he was a native of Woodstock, Ohio, who remained chiefly in this area, lingering around Springfield and Urbana. The description also notes that he was “largely self taught” (you’re kidding! I never could have guessed) and that painting was his chief forte although he did embark on some photography. And that’s pretty much all of the description I can see without getting an account. But it does seem to indicate this man at least sold some paintings! I hope he was a good painter; the, uh, sculpture isn’t doing it for him. But it was nice of him to include a self-portrait on his tombstone. And whoever that is next to him–he got so carried away with the image, he forget to put a name on it anywhere. If you can’t see those dates, he was born in 1845 and died in 1926. Apparently he was “known for” monumental sculpture, but I hope this is the only example. (I’m sorry! If you think I’m being mean, I am really sorry, but this thing is darn ugly! Do you really think it isn’t?)

The rest of the Woodstock Cemetery is actually extremely pretty and worth a look. There is a historic marker memorializing Woodstock as a stop for the Lincoln Funeral Train, and the area is nice, rather well kempt, and sports some great views. The unique and unusual is also pretty standard stuff here, and for as many odd stones as there are, there are also some really pretty ones. Incidentally, some of the Cushmans have some more standard stones, and among these are some great examples of proper restoration very tastefully done.

: It’s a Ball! For Kimball!

The Cemetery That Wasn’t There

Megan-Marie — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 22:05:59 +0000

Cable Cemetery

Cable is in fact not a small town. It is a minute town. Well, even according to the Wikipedia, it’s not a town at all, it’s an “unincorporated community,” which I think categorically means you could whip through there at 50 MPH ’cause there’s no speed limit change. Basically what makes noteworthy is that there is a post office, a pizza place/convenience store, and a church. That’s about it. Apart from two dozen houses roughly clustered together. A quarter mile outside the cluster is also the Township Building for Wayne Twp., which is where we vote and they store the snowplows. Exciting, eh, Steve? Anyway, reports online persisted that there was a cemetery in Cable. In our industriousness, we didn’t bother to write down where in Cable, because we figured we knew, but it turns out, we knew nothing. After driving around and aimlessly searching, we finally decided to go through the “cluster” itself and suddenly thought, “Well, what if it’s by the church?” Well, it turns out it’s by the church.

The Cable Cemetery is tucked up behind the only church in Cable, on the left side of a street that dead-ends into the parking lot. It is a small country churchyard, in every sense of the word. Kristine’s apt observation was that “there are more people in the cemetery than the town!”

I really liked these tombstones. They were very neat and tidy. The cemetry itself isn’t in bad shape at all, it’s just practically impossible to find. Unfortunately, my observations on the Cable Cemetery, which is quite small, neatly laid out, and commands a pleasant view of surrounding farmland . . . and also includes a playground . . . were colored by the fact that it was completely filled with mosquitoes hovering in literal clouds and it made it very difficult to pay attention to much or do anything but snap off a few pictures.

There are actually 174 interments here, with the area’s typical following of Blues and Johnsons, but adding to it the Inskeeps, after whom, I presume, the main road in Cable is named. There are also a pair of Depps–presumably not related–and an impressive cluster of Bowers.

As I mentioned last week, I’m skimping in the picture department because of our being in the process of transferring over to a new medium, but hopefully we’ll be able to present that to you in full within the next few weeks.

Four Cemeteries

Megan-Marie — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 14:12:42 +0000

So perhaps you noticed that nobody posted last Friday. Well, I didn’t, because I was in Athens, the well-known most cemeteried area in this great state. Or at least the most haunted. Unfortunately as I was there for a Shakespeare conference, I didn’t hit any cemeteries. But we did go to some on Monday evening. As the weather is beginning to grow decidedly unfriendly to cemetery pursuits, I’m not going to rush through the four that we checked out. Plus, we got a lot of great pictures for each, so they basically deserve more attention than a four-at-a-time approach. So this is basically cemetery number one plus previews, in order of visit.

Jenkins in Autumn

So today, I’ll be taking you to Jenkins Cemetery, which is located on Yocum Road in Cable, Ohio. It is a beautifully mild autumnal day, and the Ohio sky boasts vivid blue. Ohio, as we all know, is populated enough with dinky little hidden cemeteries that odds are, if you throw a rock, it’ll bounce off a headstone (it helps to be aiming at the headstone and have good eye-hand coordination). The Cable area was necessarily one of our first areas of forray into the world of headstoning, as this particular headstone lives here (don’t bother trying to stalk me; the Cable area is massive). It’s a beautiful area with many narrow, hilly, winding roads, all belying Champaign County’s status as champaign (French, flat). This is all probably largely the result of the Cable Moraine, an area created by leftover glacial debris. So, I was talking about cemeteries!

Jenkins Cemetery has mostly been (erroniously) referred to as the “Yocum Road Cemetery” by us for the last few years, and in spite of early visits in 2004 (it was one of our inaugural cemeteries!), we didn’t have any pictures before this visit. However, I find it a beautiful cemetery of decent size. It is presumably associated with the church that it is nestled up and pretty cozy with.

The road in the cemetery

Now, it is actually a decent-sized cemetery for a largely-family-oriented church graveyard in the middle of nowhere. Literally in the middle of nowhere; this one is almost impossible for us to find even though we’ve been there like three times. You can park in the church lot, and there is only one road that goes around the cemetery. It is clean, nicely spaced, and seems well-maintained in spite of the massive sea of fallen leaves there on our visit. It’s October. Can you blame it?

Three Jenkinses

Typical last names are Blue (presumably somehow related to the local Blue Rd.), Black (of Black Rd. fame, no doubt); Yocum (of Yocum Rd., perhaps?), and the eponymous Jenkins (there is no Jenkins Road locally, however). Three Jenkinses are buried beneath this beautiful monument, dedicated to the memories of “Kittie” (wife of R. P. Jenkins), who died in 1886, and her two daughters, Wretha and Ada, who both died in 1892. One of the prettiest cemetery statues ever.

While this is really the only statue in the place, there are some unique and interesting gravestones worth seeing, including a pair of apparently homemade gravestones with cursive inscriptions. One of my favorites, belonging to a Willard Decker, ominiously threatens on the back of his tombstone to be “waiting for you in heaven.” In very tiny, rather creepy letters.

You may notice I’m giving you much fewer pictures about this cemetery, but this is because we are getting ready to move all our photos over to a new site, and I’m keeping things uncluttered here until we have an idea of how things are going to work there. (Keep tuned for that–btw–Kristine will have more info. The new site promises to display pictures much better than WordPress lets us. Sorry WP.)

A zinc headstone

Another eclectic addition to the cemetery is this very small zinc headstone, which includes a long flat marker, also zinc, with the name that lays over the actual grave. It is one of the smaller zinc headstones I have ever seen, and is thus kind of impressive.

Actually that’s all I can think of to say for the moment about Jenkins cemetery. It was a fine warm day for cemetery hopping and that may be coloring my affection for the place, or not. Like I said, stay tuned for the picture update, because there will be more.

Also for you to look forward to: The elusive and nearly invisible Cable Cemetery (on November 6), the bizarre monuments of Woodstock Cemetery (on Friday the 13th, appropriately), and the unlovely Broderick Cemetery (November 20)–our first venture into exotic Union County! See, aren’t I a good little blogger, posting when I say I will? Every Friday! Take note! Tell your friends! Also coming up for your reading enjoyment, the Headstoners’ first visit inside historic Green Lawn Abbey, established 1927. So be here for that!