My great-great-grandmother, who died in 1885, is buried between her brother and his second wife. His first wife is in another part of the cemetery altogether. That one makes me scratch my head.
My great great grandmother’s grave is one of the most informative I’ve ever seen: SUSAN WHITE BURK, born in Anson County NC September 27 1822 daughter of John and Nancy White/Died Kowaliga Alabama May 1885", then it gives the names of both of her husbands and also says “Buried near her are her beloved babes J.Z. and T.J.J..” It doesn’t give the names of the kids, just their initials: since the brother she’s buried next to is Zachariah, which was also the name of her uncle and her grandfather, I’m guessing the Z in J.Z. is for Zachariah and I know from the Census she had a son named Joseph who was an infant in 1860 but who disappears from the records afterwards, so I’m guessing he may have been Joseph Zachariah. T.J.J., unless this is the Joseph from the Census, is only recorded on her gravestone- I’ve found no other mention of him, and obviously he died in infancy or early childhood since he’s not in either the 1860 or 1870 Census. I’ve wondered if his name might have been Thomas Jonathan Jackson since her husband served in Stonewall’s division briefly before being sent home for medical reasons. (He later died and is buried in this spooky broken-arched Confederate cemetery.)
Anybody who does genealogy more than extremely passively can tell you how addictive it becomes. It has no bearing whatever on my life when or how an infant great-great-uncle died or what his name was, but I’d be embarrassed to admit how much research time I spent trying to find that one. Also, her sons’ graves aren’t marked which makes me wonder “How near? Were they buried beside her or with her or…”. Her brother is about 5 feet on one side of her and a sister-in-law about 5 feet on the other. I took my sister to see the grave and she said “Granny should have been way damn more specific if she doesn’t want me traipsin’ on her boys.”
The cemetery where my father is buried has a couple- I’ll call them Phil and Ida Newman because I can’t remember their names (though I took pics) who are buried together, were born in the 1850s and died in the 1920s. They’re buried between four infant graves (2 on either side) that give the years and say the same thing: Infant Child of Phil and Ida Newman. Behind their graves: six more headstones of infants identified as theirs, born between the late 1870s and 1900. A couple of the children’s graves have names, but some don’t even say son or daughter, just infant. They buried 10 of their kids.
While looking through that cemetery I came across another grave that said (name made up because I can’t remember the original) Susan N. Whitman- Wife of Noah Whitman, Beloved Daughter of Phil and Ida Newman 1889-1954. It’s really odd how even though I never heard of these people and have no idea if they were good salt of the earth folks or horrific human beings but I found myself thinking “Thank God at least one of their kids made it to adulthood”. (I just hope they weren’t psychos and killing the kids themselves like a couple of famous criminals over the years, but I somehow doubt it.)
omg East TN. Let me hug her neck. Now, to the question…I’m planning on being sent to a medical school, too. Then, whatever’s left will go to the Body Farm in Knoxville. Dr. Bass is an amazing man. Did you know that he’s taught half of all the forensic experts in the entire world? I had the pleasure of having him for Anthropology one year. He’s doing great work and this way I can be a part of it.
The small markers that just say, “Infant child of Frank and Mary Jones” are the most heartbreaking. The mother carried that baby in her body for months, felt it move, and she had to have hopes and dreams for the child. Perhaps the baby was stillborn, or only lived less than a day. To not even give him or her a name is so incredibly sad.
~VOW
As a Big Fat Fuck a lot of my parts will be worn out, but I’d like what’s left to go to one of the Body Farms. Preferably the one in Hawaii, since that’s likely the only way I’ll get there, but Texas or Tennessee will do.
My previous ambition was to be a skeleton in someone’s closet.
Organ donation is first priority, scientific or educational use second (including body farms). Ideally nothing will be left to be handled by survivors (I assume some scraps are burned or buried after the other uses, though).
My ex-fiancee was horrified by this, and was adamant that as my surviving wife, she would not allow any form of donation to happen to my body, no matter my wishes. Huge arguments ensued that signaled that perhaps we weren’t as compatible as we thought. I still wonder what caused her extreme aversion to the idea, as she was otherwise quite pro-philanthropy, pro-science, etc., and she didn’t seem to have any sort of moral or religious problem with my regular blood donations.
My mom has already signed the papers to donate her body to the University of Kansas Medical School. Dad isn’t really enthused about it either, but it’s HER body. What’s left will be cremated and returned to us, to be interred in a cemetery where Dad will also go.
I agree with you about open casket funerals. I won’t look at the deceased. If I’m buried I don’t want someone saying “Doesn’t she look natural?” so I have specific instructions for my funeral that the casket would be closed.
Thankfully, my sister and I were on the same page about our mother and an open casket: not no way not no how not never.
Hell would freeze over or the Cubs would win the world series or both would happen before I’d allow an open casket on myself. I’ve even got it in my will.
Open casket funerals are utterly appalling. Where she and I did differ was the method. I wanted cremation, she wanted a casket. So we compromised to the ridiculous tune of $7,000 for a casket!!! :eek:
As far as I’m concerned about my earthly remains: take what you can use or need for science and/or donor programs, burn the rest as cheaply as possible and shovel the cremains into a vase from Wal-Mart.
Above all, use the bulk of my insurance money to throw one hell of a party for my friends and family. And buy me that damn bottle of 25-year-old McCallan that I can’t afford, pour some for everybody, and put a glass of it beside my ‘urn.’ I don’t care what you do with ‘urn’ and ashes after that.
Those of us wishing to donate organs and body parts have a very fuzzy notion as to what is usable and what will be done with them–read Mary Gross’ *Stiff *for an eye-opener as to what is and isn’t usable, and the “uses” our left-overs can be put to (an awful lot is just discarded, like the stained sweaters you give to Goodwill).
*Loved *that book. I guess its biggest takeaway is ‘you can leave your body to science or not, but beyond that, YOU GET NO SAY.’
They can use you as a crash-test dummy, or for parts, or see what happens when they burn you, or throw you in a field and let nature take its course, or use you as a piñata at a hyena’s birthday party (for scientific purposes).
Gold star plan is to have my corpse kicked off the back of a truck in the forest. I figure I ate so many animals in my life, it’s only fair they get to eat me too.
As I imagine, that’s a tough sell to both family and the general public, plan B is a natural burial, no embalming, no expensive heavy casket or graveliner. Just a shroud and a hole. Maybe one of those pretty woven seagrass caskets.
No cremation as it uses a lot of natural gas and I didn’t work this hard to sequester all this carbon for y’all to just release it once I’m dead!
