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"

(more…)

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.

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?

"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.

How cute!

It's a Ball! For Kimball!
It’s a Ball! For Kimball!

 

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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.

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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.

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.

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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.

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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?

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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 tombstone

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!

The titular view on a stunning autumn day.

The titular view on a stunning autumn day.

I’m actually surprised to realize that I’ve never posted about the Piatts before, apart from the one where I combined it with a quick visit to Mt. Tabor. Mostly I’m surprised because I am a bit of an afficianado of all things Piatt. Why? Because I work there. At the Piatt Castles, that is. www.piattcastles.org. Come on by sometime ;)

Like most people, I feel a certain affinity for Donn Piatt. I don’t know why most people do and I cringe to be a cliché, but, well, I like him. One of my favorite locations is up on top of his crypt. There’s a great view of the valley, and it’s very quiet and peaceful. As far as climbing up on a mausoleum is concerned, well, as I told my (non-headstoner) friend the first time I did it, “If he didn’t want people climbing up here, he shouldn’t have put a poem up there.” (It’s illegible. But I’ll get to that.)

The Piatt family are, at present, chiefly of note because of the two houses, the eponymous Piatt Castles, Mac-A-Cheek and Mac-O-Chee, which are about a mile and a half apart outside of scenic West Liberty, Ohio. A lot of the houses in this area, at one time or another, were owned by a Piatt at some point. Abram Piatt had a number of kids, and it is his descendants now who own the Castles and maintain them.

Of course the business that concerns me today is the cemetery, which is a favorite of mine judging by frequency of visit alone. Working in the house that someone lived in while they were alive definitely makes one feel a lot closer to the person or persons interred; I’ve stood in either house and tried to imagine knowing the people who lived there, I’ve stood at the tomb and tried to imagine Donn and Abram as boys playing in the valley, as men coming up to the cemetery to bury their loved ones, and the funeral procession bringing them to their final resting place.

Colonel Donn Piatt's Tomb

Colonel Donn Piatt's Tomb

Donn Piatt’s tomb, like his house, is the more ornate and noticable of the two. It was constructed first, and is the final resting place not only of Donn, but of his and Abram’s parents, Benjamin and Elizabeth, of his son Charles, and of his two wives, Louisa and Ella. Donn’s life was filled with a lot of tragedy: he and Louisa were totally in love with each other; they were both writers and they traveled a great deal. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with “consumption” (not necessarily tuberculoses), and all through the Civil War struggled with bad health. Mac-O-Chee castle was originally a cottage he built for her so she could come out to the country where rest and fresh air might heal her; but she died two weeks after the cottage was finished. They’d had two children, the son Charles, who died at age 2 from cholera, and a stillborn daughter. The medallion atop the tomb features Louisa’s profile; on the verso is a grieving poem Donn wrote for her. (more…)

So last Thursday was weird. I lost some work in the closing minutes of work and then was deeply distracted and had to lug a big heavy book back to my truck I hadn’t been planning on. So I ended up not feeling like retracing my steps and biking back along the path the way I usually do. I started to drive home, but the weather was so nice, I felt incredibly guilty about it, with the weather so nice and all. So I ended up deciding by the time I got home that I would attempt something I’m not going to do again anytime in the rest of my life.

A really long time ago, back when I was a teenager with energy, a friend of mine and I biked down the road I live on about two miles to a particular intersection. Just a few yards from this intersection is the entrance to one of the cemeteries I pass every day when I go to work. I keep meaning to go in there, and yesterday I thought, “Hey, nice day, it’s only about two miles, I know there’s some hills, but I’ve done it once before, it can’t be that bad.” Ha bloody ha ha. Did I mention I live in the Himalayan Mountains? I didn’t think I did, but now I know better. It took about an hour to go the two or three miles that is because I had to get off and walk about five times from the hills. I was so exhausted when I finally got to the cemetery that I thought someone might as well dig me a hole and put me in it. So appreciate these pictures.

Mt. Caramel Cemetery--The Gate

Mt. Caramel Cemetery--The Gate

 Mt. Caramel Cemetery is associated, I assume, with the Mt. Caramel Friends Church which is located immediately across the street from it. It was established in 1833.

It’s located on CR-130. The nearest settlement is a little burg known as Kennard. To get to the cemetery, say you’re driving north on US-68 (toward Bellefontaine). You’ll want to turn right on Herr Rd. When you reach the intersection of Herr and Clark–conveniently the location of Hell Cemetery–keep going straight. You are now on CR-130. It twists and turns a lot, but stay on it. You will need to turn left on CR-223, which merges with 130 for awhile; turn right on 130 to stay on it (which will briefly turn into Champaign St.) The cemetery is on the right side of the road. Hey, I never said it wasn’t remote. Remember what I said about living in the Himalayas? (more…)

Naturally now that I’m perusing the C-Files (Cemetery Files) for shots of Revolutionary War veterans, I’m only finding War of 1812ers, etc. But I thought for the Fourth of July, I’d post a couple of our Revolutionary War heroes whose graves we’ve happened upon. I figured there must be at least a few of these because we tend to make it a habit to snap off pictures of them whenever we find them.

The Fourth of July is a nice, low-maintenence holiday I can really get behind. I’m not a big fan of holidays, as many people might know, which is strange given my absolute delight whenever I don’t have to work. However, the problem with holidays is that most encompass a variety of activities that might as well be work. The Fourth is nice. All it requires is that my parents and I settle down at some point during the day and watch Independence Day. I seem to recall watching ESB one time on the Fourth, but if you think about it, Return of the Jedi is the more appropriate film . . . Okay! Back to focus! The point is, I like the Fourth, and so the Headstoners Present for you a special collection of Revolutionary War heroes for your enjoyment.

First up is my personal favorite, Mr. Matthew Ferguson.

The grave of Matthew Ferguson

The grave of Matthew Ferguson

 Matthew Ferguson was born in County Antrim, Ireland (now Co. Antrim, Northern Ireland) in October 1748, the son of Irishman James Ferguson (1721-1771) and Englishwoman Rachel Walker (1720-1791). He was the younger brother of William (1746-1833), the twin of James (1748-1806), and the older brother of Margaret (1750-1835). The family relocated themselves to the state of Pennsylvania. (more…)

Well, on May 23 we finally ventured back to Salem Cemetery outside Hendrysburg in Belmont County. We actually first went there during the great Topol Trip on Feb. 21, but knew nothing about it other than it was on our map of Ohio hauntings. Being ill prepared, we were (I was?) slightly freaked out by its location and the condition of the road so we drove back there but didn’t stop.

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In our (my) defense, it should be noted that the Headstoners (read: me) have not so good luck and always seem to be the ones to face odd circumstances (see our TICO story). During that February trip, the gravel road (Salem Ridge Road) back to the cemetery was wet and half ice-covered, oh, and it had just been re-covered with gaint rocks. Not the ideal situation to visit a cemetery you’re not even sure you should be at. It was an adventure, though, and when we were in the eastern part of the state again and it hadn’t rained recently, we knew we had to go.

Bel-Salem-DSC00246This time, the road was much better. Not wet at all and those fresh stones had been compacted into what a gravel road should look like! Now that they’ve put signs up, it’s not hard to find either, but I’ll hold off on directions until the end.

The most well-known stone in the cemetery belongs to Louiza Catharine Fox  who was murdered by Thomas  Carr on Jan. 21, 1869, because her parents wouldn’t approve of their marriage. He actually became the first person hanged in the county, according to what I’ve read online. While we didn’t experience anything while we were there, the 13-year-old is apparently known to weep at her own grave. It’s also said that if you walk around the outside of the cemetery six times, you’ll disappear. This we didn’t have the time to try, and I’m not down with disappearing anyway!

Bel-Salem-DSC00253Over all, it’s a fairly large cemetery that is still actively used and taken care of. The older graves are toward the “bottom” (the west side) with the newer being farther up the hill. Louiza’s grave is down the hill and on the northern side, kind of alone and with objects around it (a broken pinwheel and fake flowers when we were there). It’s a really pretty area, that also boasts a second cemetery.

Circle Cemetery (as it is known, not sure of the real name) is a little farther down the main road, where the road forks again, on the right (south). There aren’t very many graves there, and most of them are in poor condition, fallen over and sunk into the ground. (more…)

Well, spring has finally arrived, and you know what that means–the Headstoners are getting back at it! We celebrated the advent of spring in style at the Bellefontaine City Cemetery in Logan County:

So there you have it, folks: spring is in the cemetery, and that means that the Headstoners are going to be back on track. We do have a backlog, though, so in the next few weeks, you’ll be seeing pictures from the last few weeks, including–

  • The end of the Topoloicious trip (including a magnificantly inaccessible and haunted cemetery in Belmont County and a brand new National Cemetery in Pennsylvania)
  • Return to Day Cemetery in Logan County
  • A lovely, well-kept, and neatly organized cemetery called Equality in Logan County
  • And finally, a cemetery so bent on restoration that they’re destroying their own headstones

See you in the next few weeks, and enjoy your bubbles!

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