I know things have been as dead around here as the people whose graves we take pictures of, and I really am sorry. Graduate school is intense! (Not too intense for you to update your new blog, The Star Wars Librarian, now on WordPress . . .) (Shut up.) But I do have a cemetery for you, the last Indiana one we visited before gas prices shot up and before we got afraid to leave the apartment (oh, yeah, it’s been drama over here. Lots of drama). So let’s get started on this one, because it’s actually very interesting and has a lot of history.

Allen's Creek Sign

Allen's Creek: 8 Cemeteries in One

The Eight Cemeteries

Allen’s Creek Cemetery (Monroe County, Indiana) is a really neat little place. Actually, it is made up of eight cemeteries that were relocated from the 10,750 acres that Lake Monroe now occupies. According to a sign located in the cemetery itself, when construction on Lake Monroe began 1962, “all houses, barns, fence lines, power lines, trees and eight cemeteries were cleared or moved.” Sexton Wilbert of Bloomington saw to this relocation, which was completed in 1965. These eight cemeteries were Blackwell Cemetery, Cutright Cemetery, Daniel Fox Cemetery, Goodman Cemetery, Hughes Cemetery, Mary W. Malott Cemetery, Mitchell Cemetery, and Shields Cemetery.

We visited in November of 2010 on a very warm and sunny day. This was about two months before everything in the world fell apart and we still thought it was safe to drive aimlessly around the way we do in Ohio looking for boneyards.

Allen's Creek

View from the front

Some work had recently been done, we could see as soon as we drove up. The stairs and walkways were pretty recently poured and kind of stuck out oddly against the otherwise highly natural and haphazard arrangement of the place. The two cement blocks have the plaques on them that I quoted earlier–on the left, the 23 Psalm, and on the right, the list of cemeteries and story about how they got here.

Stones in Allen's Creek

Stones on the Hill

The cemeteries were unidentified but kept separate, with pretty clear wide aisles between each cluster. The eight individual cemeteries mainly seemed to be small family clusters; this picture shows one of them as well as the surrounding woods.

Unique Headstone

The Unusual Headstone of Lonzo Eads

And naturally in any case where you have more than one cemetery occupying a single area, there is bound to be more than the usual individuality displayed. This stone for Lonzo Eads is a somewhat creepy specimen if you ask me–homemade-type grave stones are always a little peculiarly creepy in their own unique way.

Unknown Burial

There were lots of these

Frankly, I just like this picture! This was a really brilliant idea. Of course when they dug up the cemeteries and relocated them, they discovered lots of graves that had been hitherto unmarked. Unable to identify whose remains they were but desiring to mark them anyway, they got these generic-type stones that say simply “UNKNOWN” with numbers. These were pretty much everywhere.

Butcher Infant

Sometimes headstones are inadvertantly funny

I just threw this one in because . . . well, come on! How did no one see this at the time?

A tree behind a tree

When I first came up to this one, I thought that it was an actual tree stump hiding behind a tree. Then I approached and realized it was a tombstone. A tombstone with a giant spider on it, actually.

Some stones in the ground

When stones can’t be repaired, it’s common to embed them like flat markers. The chief downside is they erode even quicker and get overgrown rapidly, but it does tend to preserve the stone if it’s otherwise cared for. This is a particularly legible example.

Another interesting one

This is just another one with some personality. Sarrah here was the wife of George Pate, a Civil War vet; they had married on May 5, 1856, in Bloomington, IN. He died nine months before she did, and I don’t remember seeing his grave there, but interestingly she received his pension of $8 each month there until her death.

Faded Stone

A faded one on the hillside

Like I said, a lot of variety and history in a cemetery like this, where old and new mingle. Very new-fashioned stones were situated a few feet from very old ones like this, where most of the inscription has been eroded away by the harsh Indiana weather. I think the cemetery caretakers do a really good job of keeping the place neat, tidy, and in as good a shape as possible, and given that this is the kind of project nobody wants to embark on, the relocation of these cemeteries was handled pretty well.

As usual, see the rest of the pictures (here)!

Welcome back, Headstoners! It has been a very busy month, so I’m sure you’ll forgive us for not updating through August. Anyway, what I have to share today is quite special, as it is our first in-state Indiana cemetery. Yes, that’s right, the Headstoners have made the move, and we now are residing in beautiful Bloomington, Indiana, and attending the graduate school of Library and Information Science at IU. Naturally, your Headstoners have wasted no time, and we have already identified four cemeteries apart from Rose Hill, which I shared with you already, including one on campus, and I can assure you that exploration will ensue and our updates will resume their normal pace now that unpacking and school business is complete. Allow me to share with you today Mt. Gilead Cemetery, of Monroe County. (It turns out there is another Mt. Gilead outside Martinsville in nearby Morgan County, but this is not that cemetery.) Founded in 1845, the cemetery gives off a primary impression of being very clean. Perhaps this is a result of Landrum and Sons industrious work: a sign by the front gate of the cemetery boldly proclaims, “WE CLEAN GRAVESTONES!”  It promises reasonable rates and includes an address and phone number. So maybe people are taking advantage of that service, because the cemetery is nearly immaculate.

Mt. Gilead Cemetery

I would say all of these stones are in great condition, and there are some older ones well worth the viewing.

Nineteenth Century Stone

Father & Mother

For example, there’s this incredibly unique castle-shaped one. When we first saw it from the back, we thought it was probably a child’s grave (a la Concord Cem. in Columbus–um, I’ll post that one soon! Promise!) . . . but we were wrong. I personally don’t consider it pretty but it is fascinating in its own way.

Another interesting thing about this cemetery–which is adjacent to a church–is that they are providing headstones for unmarked plots rather in the way our Headstoners for Headstones project would like to. However, they appear not to have any records concerning these plots because all the new headstones are the same:

Unknown?

There are at least a dozen of these and possibly more spread around the cemetery, but the largest block are closest to the church itself.

One of my favorite parts of unwitting cemetery humor is coming across “celebrities by mistake” headstones (like this time I found a Harrison Ford stone at Green Lawn. Maybe I’ll share that one eventually too!) . . . Mt. Gilead produced this particular humor gem:

Really?!

Tomorrow is my birthday! (Happy birthday!) Why, thank you! This has actually nothing to do with anything I am about to post, but a birthday seems like a good excuse to get nostalgic. So I offer yet another flashback post, this one from 1994, when my early headstoning days brought me to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord, Massachusetts.

Sleepy Hollow is Concord’s biggest. Not only does it already claim some 10,000 burials, but it is still active. It was designed in 1855 by Cleveland and Copeland, and Ralph Waldo Emerson actually gave the dedication speech on September 29 of that year. He would eventually be buried there himself.

Ralph Waldo Emerson's Grave

Sleepy Hollow is notable also as the resting place of nearly 30 famous individuals, among them some of the US’s most noted writers and thinkers. Their congregation is referred to as “Author’s Ridge.” Apart from Ralph Waldo Emerson, some other especially notable figures whose graves we saw there were . . . (more…)

Exciting developments here with the Headstoners this month. We’re up to eight fans on Facebook–thanks guys! I’m trying to take a little more interest in both the FB page and the Shutterfly account, which is where our main pictures are going to be posted just in the interest of viewability, which is officially a word now. Everything is a slow process, especially when you take into account the fact that the two of us are in fact knee-deep in trying to move to Indiana, so I hope everyone will bear with us until things get back to normal.

Actually what I would like to draw attention to this week is something that came to my attention in the last week of June and I ended up having to put it off for the Fourth of July post. In October, I posted about the Piatt Cemetery in Logan Co., which as I mentioned then, I visit all the time. This post attracted the attention of Jeff, who is engaged in a really fascinating quest that, as a Headstoner, I was pleased to get in on, and felt it was my duty to share with everybody.

Jeff has in his possession a headstone, a homeless headstone, if you will, and rather than simply dropping it off at the local graveyard or hanging onto it, he has been trying to figure out where it came from so he can return it. The headstone is a sort of tapering shape and matches others already in the cemetery (although to be fair, it’s a common enough shape for the time) . . . Click here for a slideshow of Piatt cemetery shots from the last three years.

Anyway, the stone lists the names of six Piatt(e) children; their parents are identified as “R.J. and Anna.” Abram–the builder of Mac-A-Cheek, if you weren’t paying attention–had a son named Riveroak John, and the names on the stone line up with records identifying their children. Jeff got into contact with me, and I put him in touch with Margaret Piatt, and I hope that pretty soon, the mystery can come to its desired conclusion and the stone returned to its rightful home.

I don’t want to post other people’s pictures here, or tell you too much of his story, because he can tell you himself. Check out this forum at GraveAddiction, and read all about Jeff’s fascinating headstoning investigation!

I wanted to post something for the Fourth of July, but nothing would really come to mind. I was running some errands in Urbana, though, yesterday, and I decided to stop and look around Oak Dale Cemetery. I hoped to maybe find some veterans or something like that I could talk about, but as I was driving around trying to think of something, I was sidetracked by this older part of the cemetery I’ve never really been through before. The stones in this patch were so unique, I decided just to post about them and leave the patriotism implied (Yay, America!). So this is not exactly a Fourth of July post, but today isn’t exactly the Fourth of July, so . . . we’ll live with that, then!

Oak Dale Cemetery isn’t one I’ve posted about before. First of all, don’t confuse it with Oak Grove Cemetery of Kingscreek, Ohio. Oak Dale is actually in the town of Urbana, address 319 Patrick Avenue. It’s a convenient enough drive–if you’re headed south down 68, just turn left at the roundabout onto US 36 and make a right on Patrick Ave. The cemetery is on your left after the Burger King. It was founded in 1856 and is notable as being the burial place of Simon Kenton, among other local legends . . . these include founders and other favorites of my alma mater, Urbana University. Ironically enough, the area I selected for photos today because I had never paid much attention to it is the area spotlighted by Beth of GraveAddiction–you might want to check out her pictures as well. I’ve only picked out five stones to talk about here, so if you want to see the rest, check out the slideshow at Shutterfly.

Anyway, I parked and began to wander around. One thing I love about exploring cemeteries is that while standing there looking at one marker, I’ll see another and be drawn over; from there, I’ll see another, and on and on. By stone-hopping, I can cover so much area and not even realize I’ve done it. These are the stones I hopped from yesterday.

First, that of “Ann O.” She is identified as the “wife of Christopher Michael,” and she died on the 14th of December, 1858, at the age of 84–which means she was probably born on April 12, 1774. The elaborate carving on this stone make it really eye-catching. There is also semi-legible text at the bottom that says she was born somewhere in Frederick Co., MD, and something else that starts “our dear Mother has gone . . .”

From Ann O., I had to check out this bizarre table gravestone. I may or may not have been able to determine that it was the grave of a doctor, but I would’ve advised him that this was a really poor choice of monument. As you can see, it is held up on six legs–well, one has collapsed–and its flat face is full to the elements, which have pretty nearly blasted all the text off. When I was finally standing on the correct side of it, I was able to tell that there were words, but I lacked the patience to attempt reading them. He seems to have had a wife named Rosetta, which makes me laugh–this is the Rosetta stone! O:)

Hardly was I done snapping pictures of them, though, when I saw this peculiar little guy! This odd little pillared house is dedicated to one “Frank Fairchild,” with the inscription “Our Little Frank.” He died on the 19th of some month in 1859, and may have been a year old–there’s an annoying shadow over that bit. The style of the marker, though, is so unique, I was really fascinated and took any number of pictures of it.

Next, what to my wandering eye should appear . . . but a winged angel hanging out pretty near! So I headed over to check her out. This is apparently the stereotypical angel for cemetery markers, and I may one day make a whole collection of all the places I’ve seen her and post them at once. This time she graces the final resting place of one James W. Fulton and his wife Anna.

This last one I actually had to cross the road for but I found it was worth it. This is a very pretty take on the angel headstone motif and I actually find it very sad. Check out the slideshow for the full version; I just picked one angle for here. The tombstone is for Russell Bunnell, who died in 1892 at the age of five. The words written by the angel on the scroll read, “Of such is the kingdom of heaven.”

All in all, a really lovely day at the Urbana cemetery . . . but I can’t even tell you how hot it was! Check out the slideshow, comment, blah-blah-blah, and enjoy your Fourth of July!!

Well, unlike some of your favorite musical groups and artists, when the Headstoners take a hiatus, we come back from said hiatus. And now we’re back. I apologize, as per usual, for the delay, but bring to you not one, not two, but three out of state cemeteries! Now, our conception was as an Ohio cemetery exploration blog, and we consider ourselves Ohio-based, but in the last few months, some things have happened to your Headstoners. It’s called the “grad school bug,” and once bitten by this bug, one must inevitably go out of state, where the promise of “the rest of your life!” is lurking behind an alien school. And I don’t mean, like a school of aliens, but an unfamiliar and strange school that you did not get your undergraduate degree from. So . . . my point behind all this? Kristine and I are going to grad school. Yeah.

As we all know, or should know, choosing a grad school is a time-consuming process that involves many factors, which is why we have spent the last four months investigating a variety of schools; now that we have come to our conclusion, there is again time for headstoning! (Yay!) And I promise we won’t let the site slide anymore :( Pinky promise.

The first graduate school we looked at was the distinguished Dominican University of River Forest, Illinois, famed home of MST3k/Rifftrax funnyman Kevin Murphy. While a nice school, it proved unacceptable on a variety of levels, beginning with . . .

Queen of Heaven Mausoleum

The creepy disturbing terror that is this place

This is the mausoleum of the Queen of Heaven Catholic Cemetery located in Chicago, Illinois. This entire cemetery was unpleasant by Headstoner standards: disburbing iconography, flat tombstones, swaths of open space. And of course, this monstrosity of a mausoleum. Allow me to give you this satellite photo for reference. We drove past this structure for many severals of blocks. It is the size of a small planet. And as you should probably know about your Headstoners by now, we don’t like giant mausoleums on account of all the creepy vibes they emit. This place, serious creepy vibes. (Oh, and if you’re Catholic, from Illinois, or are buried here or know someone who is, I don’t mean to offend you; this is just not how the Headstoners roll.)

Anyway, it was quickly evident that River Forest was not the place for us. And so we moved on, seeking out a graduate school that would meet our rigorous qualifications. The next place we chose to visit personally was the University of Kentucky, located in stately, historic Lexington, which is, first of all, a very obviously warmer climate. (more…)

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.

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/

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.

Part of the cemtery

A view of part

Footbridge going to the other section

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.

cha-cab-102609N4146

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.

cha-cab-102609N4148

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.

cha-cab-102609N4160There 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.

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