I love cemeteries. They contain so much history and sometimes some really interesting stories.  And, since Dad enjoyed walking cemeteries, they became a time of connection and sharing.

Our Typical Cemetery Visit

For as long as I can remember, Dad liked walking the cemeteries.  In the last 20 or so years of his life, cemetery visits became a regular activity for the two of us.  When I would visit, Dad and I would often head out to a cemetery while everyone else was still sleeping or getting around for the day. 

Sometimes I was setting out to fulfill requests for photographs on Find-a-Grave.  Other times, we were looking for a particular grave or trying to find some specific information.  And, other times, we simply went and walked around.

We often went to Hiattville Cemetery, Farlington Cemetery, Blackjack/Pleasant Valley, or Large/Pleasant View.  However, I visited some other cemeteries with him, too.

No matter where we went, we always had good conversation.  He would tell me stories.  Some were about relatives.  Others were about friend and neighbors.

We also talked about people that he didn’t know.  Wondering about what happened to them or trying to figure out if they were related to someone buried nearby or to someone with the same last name.

Hiattville

Visits to Hiattville almost always included him telling me about how his Mother, Nellie (Peelle) McCracken and her sister (Lydia Peelle) were always whispering to each other when they visited cemeteries.  He had never been able to catch their conversation, although over the years I have discovered a few skeletons that may have been the subject of their whispers.

I remember one visit in particular when he must have been getting close to 90.  We were looking for some graves that I hadn’t photographed and I was taking additional photographs of many grave markers to make sure that good quality images existed for them.  He walked the cemetery helping me.

He had a knack for finding grave stones.  He knew who would likely be buried where even at cemeteries that were not familiar to him.  For example, years earlier he had been with his brother Don at Mt. Hope at Galesburg.  They were looking for Grandpa Apt’s burial location.  They started talking about how his family thought he was going to die as a teenager and had bought a cemetery plot.  Dad told Don, “We are in the wrong part of the cemetery.”  He knew they needed to be close to the entrance instead of further back near the Ellis family.

That day, he  suggested looking in different places.  Then he looked under things and in odd places for missing markers.  Some were sunken.  Others were missing.  But, he helped me find a few that had been missed in previous trips through the cemetery.  One in particular was on the side of a stone behind a bush.  So, Dad put his cane to work, clearing everything out so I could get a photo.  I think he used it more that day to move vegetation than to steady himself when he walked. 

Searching for Cemeteries

There were a few occasions where we went looking for cemeteries.  One of those was for my great-great grandmother Louisiana (Matteer) McCracken.

Dad always thought Louisiana was probably just buried in an unmarked grave along a trail somewhere as he always heard that she died when they were headed to family.  Then, I found a record at the genealogy library in Ft. Scott that listed her burial in Morris Cemetery in Bates County, Missouri.   Rod and I then went looking for the cemetery based on the directions in the book with her record.  Those directions turned out to be completely wrong.

So, one day I took Dad and Sis on a drive.  We ended up at La Cygne, Kansas where we ate lunch at a little diner.  Afterward, we decided to go look for Louisiana’s grave.  We had new directions and thought it should be no problem.  But, after searching for some time, we still hadn’t found it.

Courthouse Visit

I decided to go to the courthouse in Butler and ask.  The women in the office’s immediate reaction was, “I have never heard of that cemetery.”  But, they dug into their information and found it.  It was a simple error.  The highway curved near town and it was west of the southern-most point instead of west of the main entrance to town.

We set out again and this time we found it.  The instructions still underestimated the distance it was from the east-west road.  However, since there was no place to turn around, we kept going.  At the end of the lonely road was a house on one side of the road and the cemetery on the other side.  It was a very pretty setting for the cemetery, but also a very creepy one.  I would never go there alone and I wouldn’t go even with someone else at night.  (And, I really like cemeteries)

We found Louisiana’s grave very easily.  We checked out the entire small cemetery looking for other familiar names.  I got photos and Dad got to visit his great-grandmother’s grave.  I could tell that it meant a lot to him.  He felt bad that the family hadn’t visited.  To our knowledge, besides us, only his second cousin Max and his daughter Mitzi have visited Louisiana’s grave.

So, glad we visited when we did.  Not only did Dad get the opportunity to visit her grave, but we got to visit while her gravestone was readable. On a subsequent visit, I found Louisiana’s stone had become very difficult to read.  I am very happy to have photos of her gravestone while it was readable.

Prompt: At the Cemetery

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