I volunteer as a miller at a windmill near me. It was originally on a farm, which is now a suburb. Across the road is a lovely little family graveyard dating back to the 1700s with all the family names. The ground is very stony, so most are single use mausoleums. It is kind of expected, but sad, that many of the graves are of young children.
I go there from time to time, to drink a beer and read the names of the people who are responsible for building the mill (which was build in/around 1796).
Chronos is a poster of long standing and doesn’t have to apologize for their posting.
As a brand new poster let me give you a bit of advice, if you are joking or teasing let us know that that is what your post is supposed to be.
For a couple decades I drove down a rural road here in Ohio on my way to Springfield, not knowing there was an abandoned cemetery in the woods along the side of the road. And then one fall afternoon I happened to look over into the woods and could see many headstones! I was thinking about exploring it, but there were a couple problems: 1) there is no place nearby to park, and 2) there is a large creek (practically a river) running parallel with the road that must be crossed or bypassed.
Five years ago I contacted an exploration group in Ohio called Once Occupied. I told them about the cemetery, and gave them its location. They visited it and made a really nice video on it. It is also on their webpage (link).
PM me if you want to know the location of it.
Another genealogist here (for the past 25+ years). Cemeteries are a huge help to people afflicted with this addiction. I was able to track down the burial site for my Civil War ancestor because his burial was paid for by the government. He’s in an unmarked (except for a number) grave in California. I never made it down there, or I may have been tempted to purchase a stone with his name on it.
There are people who have made it a hobby to catalog cemeteries and upload the info to Find a Grave and other websites. Many of them are just going for body counts; some sort of macabre contest, I guess. They get very annoyed if you “poach” their turf, as I found out when I tried to upload some information.
Don’t pay attention to them, just use their info. My sister used Ancestry dot com to find that tiny abandoned cemetery with a four greats grandfather. At least those folks who had entered direction wanted to help. They may even have been distant relations.
If you ever have the chance visit Hope Cemetery in Barre, VT. Barre is also the home of Rock of Ages - the granite company that makes headstones. Apparently in the 1800’s and early 1900’s most stones were carved by hand. The majority of the stone carvers were Italian and took stones home to work on in their off hours for their own future use. Absolutely beautiful hand carvings.
Whoa, Andersonville. They survived that?
When I went to Mardi Gras, I made sure to see the cemeteries.
I live across the street from a 139 year old cemetery. I did a walk through it when I first moved here. Also, went on the local Historical Society’s cemetery tour. Lots of wonderful stonework. It also is a super-megapolis for moles. My lawn and the cemetery are the same spongey, sandy soil. It was started as a Catholic cemetery, but further additions by the city’s founding families expanded the cemetery. Lots of veteran graves, Civil War, WW1 & WW2. Not sure what the ownership history was but starting in the 60’s, it changed several times. At one point in the 70’s it was not known who owned the property and it fell into disrepair. Then supposedly it was won in a poker game. After years and years of neglect, the Township took over the cemetery a little over a decade ago and they have been restoring and maintaining the property since then. They are trying to raise money for a permanent office, they are working out of an “office” trailer right now.
Yes he did. My maternal grandmother was his granddaughter and he told her about being there, she passed it on to me. Off and on for the rest of his life he had stomach issues, from poor sanitation and worse food. And he said to my grandmother that the guards would kick prisoners around, and the gut was an easy target.
I’ve always loved to visit cemeteries ever since I was a young girl. I’ve dabbled some in family geneology and have been fortunate enough to include visits to cemeteries when we’ve traveled.
Without a doubt the most beautiful cemetery I’ve ever seen was in Salzburg, Austria. Mr VOW was in the Army, stationed in Nuernburg. We had gone to the Armed Forces Recreation Center in Berchtesgaden for Christmas. We lucked out and got tickets to the tiny chapel where “Silent Night” was first played.
By the time the program started, the place was packed with people, and it was bitterly cold. I took our toddler daughter and pushed through the crowd to leave. Mr VOW stayed. He had the video camera, and that was a great division of labor.
In my long walk back to our bus, I passed a very sweet cemetery. It was around midnight on Christmas Eve, and each grave held a votive candle in a red glass. The cemetery was spotless, and as far as you could see, there were small, flickering red lights, as if to share the holiday with relatives who had passed on. The scene was so peaceful, and so loving, it warmed my heart and I wasn’t as cold as I had been as I trudged uphill to the bus. I held my daughter closer to me, and thought of the stories I’d tell her when she was older.
~VOW
That’s something I wish I could have seen.
When my mother-in-law died, my husband was talking to the caretaker of the cemetery and he said that all cemeteries have the headstones facing East. It’s so the Sun rises on your face and sets at your feet. Ever since we found this out, we check which direction the stones are facing when we pass one, and it has held to be true.
My forebears were buried in a family plot, as well. My uncle, the family genealogist, once took me to a hunting reserve in Warren County, North Carolina, where my great-great grandfather is buried in a little graveyard on what had been his farm. There are a few other graves on the plot, identifiable by depressions in the earth; but his and a cousin’s are marked by headstones put up by the United Daughters of the Confederacy, as both men had been Confederate soldiers.
My maternal great-grandfather and great-grandmother were also buried on their farm in Nash County, N.C. When the family finally sold the property - it’s now a beautiful horse farm - my father and uncle were present when the graves were exhumed and the remains moved. A bit of a surprise ensued, when they also found the skeleton of an infant interred with my g-grandmother; evidently, an unknown child who died most likely at birth.
These little family graveyards are fairly common, scattered around the South (and the rest of the country, too, I imagine). Part of the charm of Ocracoke and Hatteras Islands, in the North Carolina Outer Banks, are the small family plots that dot the island. Still in use, too - I’m fascinated that so many of the names on the stones - Garrish, Farrow, Burrus, Midgett - can still be found among the modern Bankers.
Oakland Cemetery does, or did, a neat history walk around Hallowe’en. Actors sit in front of mausoleums, portraying the occupants and telling stories of the the city’s and cemetery’s history. Some of them quite affecting, like the man who would brush his wife’s hair every night before they went to bed.
Indeed. One of the sights of Ocracoke Island are the graves of Warren and Job Wahab, born in 1855 and died in 1842. The story is that the stonecutters made a mistake, but the family didn’t want the expense of shipping them back to be recut. However, a website I just looked at says that the stone cutter did carve the correct dates - Warren was born in 1833 and Job in 1835. Time and tide have weathered the carving away to the point that the "3"s look like "5"s.
I love roaming around cemeteries. The cemetery most of my family is buried in has everything from new areas to areas dating back to the early 1800s. There is an area for veterans and an area for babies and young children. My paternal grandpa died suddenly at the age of 59 when I was 6. My grandma went to visit his grave at least every week until she died 22 years later and I went with her many times. She would also stop to visit a small round concrete marker about 4" in diameter and was just stamped with a number. It was her still-born daughter. I’m not sure if that was all they could afford or if that’s all they did back then (1930s) for a stillborn baby. I think I could still find that little marker.
Back in the 1830s-1850s or so I’ve noticed that the 3 and 5 can almost look exactly the same on a lot of stones. It was the way they carved the numbers, the 3 had an extra cut down the front that can make it look like a 5 and the curve of the top of the 3 can be really thin.
Here’s an example of that, and I still can’t tell what the year is.
You can have to government give him a stone. I don’t know the process but they will create one if you know the burial location. I don’t know if they will help with having them installed though.
I remember as a child going with my grandparents to “Homecoming” at a small rural Baptist church outside of Atlanta. This thread made me think of my great-great-grandfather. He fought in the Civil War (Confederate) and lost his left arm at Spotsylvania. Somehow he made it home and lived until 1918! In his 50-odd years after the war he became a farmer and donated the land for that church and the small cemetery across the road.
He’s buried in that cemetery. I stopped by there a few years ago and noticed a small marker that looks a bit like an iron cross. On the top three arms of the cross are the letters C, S, and A. In the middle is a circle with a relief of a stars and bars Confederate flag. His tombstone engraving also cites his war service.
I suppose that all speaks to the cultural significance of that war to the folks in that community at that time, but it also strikes me as a reflection of the “lost cause” feelings in that place and time.
I’ve read lots of Civil War history in my life but I’m no believer in any lost cause construct. But I do think it’s interesting to see such an example so “close to home”.
In the cemetery where I will go there are a number of veterans from different wars but there is one Confederate. His daughter married my grandmother’s brother. She had a brother who died at the age of sixteen, and the young man’s name was R. E. Lee Surname. Hmm, wonder where that came from?
If we’re talking interesting gravestones and engravings, here’s an interesting one:
If you want to try solving the puzzle yourself, don’t scroll past the first three paragraphs. The solution is in the fourth paragraph.
I love old cemeteries, I think in the same way I love old churches. It feels like I’m stepping into a completely different time, that I’m physically in a fascinating past.
We visited Paris earlier this year, and my buddy and I stumbled on the Montparnasse Cemetery. We weren’t even looking for it, we were out taking a walk, smoking a cigar, while our wives slept in. It was magnificent. So many different times represented, styles of headstones, etc. Just beautiful.
I tried to include a link, but my Discourse incompetence gave me an error window with a sad emoji. It’s easily googled if you’re inclined.
I’ve also visited the cemetery at West Point. Breathtaking, humbling…the historical figures interred there…words fail.
Whe we drive by cemeteries, I always helpfully point out how popular they are. People are dying to get in.
