Revolutionary Rock Stars

It was a late August morning in Boston, steamy and damp with persistent drizzle. I knew the general location of my first stop. But rounding the corner, I hadn't expected it to be so close. Just down the street from my hotel, about a block, across from the next intersection, I could see the marble entry and trees along an iron fence. Realizing what my eyes were registering made me stop in surprise. Even in the rain it resonated as a sacred place.

For decades, since I was in my teens, I had heard of this piece of land, the final resting place of many of the men and women recognized as instigators of revolution. The Granary Burying Ground. How many times had I read that title, and spied it on an old map, wishing I could see it for myself? Too many times to count. 

I approached the Egyptian style archway, mentally noting its echo of a time period that was more contemporary. It looked out of place knowing the age of the gravestones inside the gate. People were coming and going, through the imposing arch, despite the drizzle. Once inside, the multitude of carved stones took my breath away. I stood next to an unsuspecting tour guide, half listening to his speech, while clicking away with my camera. I knew enough not to be rude and try to get a freebie tour without paying, so I moved along. After all, I didn't need a tour guide to tell me about this place.

Ironically, or fatefully, I turned in the exact direction I needed to go. I only walked a little ways along the right front path, and there they were, under an old tree. One stone to mark them all. Despite their deaths occurring in 1770, I knew them all by name, my history equivalent of the Beatles: Samuel, Crispus, Patrick, James, and Samuel. 

The "victims" of the Boston Massacre have earned quotation marks from historians because of the questionable nature in which they died. Were they victims standing up for freedom's cause? Were they rabble, stirring up trouble and getting rowdy at any chance? I tend to think of them as victims of circumstance. Forces they could not see creating a perfect storm of resentment and hostility. At the very least, they were resisting a military presence in their city, and they did not expect to die that night. 

After years of reading trial transcripts, autopsy reports, and commemorative orations, I figured I was the only one who would be excited about finding their grave in this most famous of burial sites. But I was wrong. As I stood in the drizzle, and just silently took in the scene, the pebbles lined up on top of the stone brought tears. Physical evidence that others remember their story and mark the visit with a solemn placement of stone. 

I turned to move on and encountered THE Samuel Adams. A rounded, carved stone placed there by the SAR, also covered in small stones of remembrance. It was not grand nor ostentatious, but it was solid, like the personality it memorialized. 

The path continued on, and so did I...taking in the artistry of each stone. Time had worn the iconography and some of the letters, but the solemn purpose remained. For those buried in the majority of these graves, death was viewed as something of a stalker, always ready to pounce on the next victim. Each stone contained imagery that served as something of a 17th century PSA, reminding visitors that life was fleeting.

As I roamed, I came across other men of note: Paul Revere, John Hancock, James Otis, Robert Treat Paine, William Molineux, Christopher Snider....and others....men and women who got this party started! Most with only humble stones to mark their existence - except for Mr. Hancock, of course. (1896 replacement stone is quite large.) As the humble nature of the stones reminded me of the fundamental principles our freedom was founded upon, I realized my gratitude grew...inspiring me to share their story at every opportunity.

In a glimmer of hope, I noticed, among the dead, there was a pulse of life. Tour guides in colorful dress entertained tourists with the vibrant stories of those who inhabit the Granary. It is the power of the story that connects us to each other, despite the passage of time. I was pleased to see the story used to bring the dead back to life as the Granary maintained a memorial that was not just stone, but life renewed with each child that came through the gates to learn about our past. Reminding us all that while life may be fleeting, our stories keep living, as long as we tell them. 

Broken Wings: Finding George Remus

A few weeks ago, while attending a festival in my Mother's hometown, Falmouth, we stopped in to Riverside cemetery to "visit" with my grandparents. As we paid our respects, I realized it was just daylight enough to go scoundrel hunting. About a year ago, I was watching Ken Burns' series Prohibition. As the story unfolded, he covered a chapter of history I had only vaguely heard stories about: prohibition and the Cincinnati area. I knew the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky area had been a hotbed of illegal activity that began with the prohibition era, but I had never heard of its king: George Remus. In a stunning footnote to history, it turns out George was buried in the same cemetery as my grandparents, despite his life and death in the Cincinnati/Covington areas. Burns also noted that locals remembered his stone because it contained angels, whose wings were ripped off shortly after he was buried there. This was something I had to see for myself.

In very short order, we found him. It wasn't hard at all since the cemetery isn't that large. Plus, I can count on one hand the number of stones that contain any type of statue. Based on the date of his death, I knew he had to be in the older portion of the cemetery, and with the "angels" clue, we found him within a few minutes of driving around. And sure enough, the wings were missing.

The stone itself marks a joint plot containing George, his third wife, Blanche Watson, and two individuals from Blanche's family: Belle and J. Taylor Watson. Based on the life dates of Belle and J. Taylor, I'm guessing this may be Blanche's parents (Belle: 1854-1938 & J. Taylor: 1846-1889)

So, looking at the stone as a joint product, I tried to link up a timeline of its construction. Based on the style of the stones, it was not something from the 1880s when J. Taylor died, nor did it appear to be contemporary to the 1950s when George died. However, taking the death date of Belle into consideration, I'm guessing the stone was nearer to her death date of 1938, when George and Blanche were already a married couple.

I also noticed that the individual burial locations based on gender had been switched. In most cases, the husband is planted first, on the left, and the wife on the right. Here we have George and Blanche correct, but Belle and J. Taylor are switched to place Belle and Blanche next to each other. This is not completely unheard of, but solidifies a close bond between the women. Ironically, in the newer part of the cemetery, my grandparents pulled the same switcheroo so my grandmother and her sister could be buried next to one another without displacing their spouses. Of course, even this switch is odd because if J. Taylor was the first to be interred in 1889, Blanche and George did not even know each other at the time. Perhaps the arrangement was made sentimentally at an earlier date? Conjecture on my part - but all things must be considered when analyzing burial placement. Of course, it goes without saying: wouldn't we also love to know who ripped the wings off? If it was done prior to Blanche's death in 1974, as the reports say, why didn't she have them repaired? Unless she knew that was a useless waste of money.

If the monument itself is a product of 1938, this speaks volumes as to George's last years. These years are something that has begun to intrigue me a bit. Of all the things written about George, his bootlegging, prison time, and murder of his second wife (without prison time for the murder), very little has been written of his years after prohibition. The last 20 years or so are relegated to postscripts - most concur that he attempted to rebuild his fortune, through business and liquor sales, etc., but they all conclude that he failed in his attempt and lived out the rest of his years in obscurity, dying at his home in Covington. But, how obscurely did he live, and to what extent did he really fail?

According to other reports, he had a nice real estate office in Cincinnati, and even owned stock in the Reds baseball team. From what I remember of Burns' production, it was the liquor part that failed on the second go round. I'm assuming the rest of his business was lucrative, at least to provide comfortable means. Let's just assume that the stone itself, in all its elaborate design serves as proof that George did have a decent size fortune. After all, the rest of Blanche's family plot does not match this opulence. The surrounding Watson stones are modest to say the least - very small indeed. Which brings me to the conclusion that the statue was a product of George's money, not Blanche's.

If you ever get the time, you should read up on George. It is a fascinating story. As a young German immigrant (age 5), he was later known as the King of the Bootleggers, and also got away with murder after shooting his second wife, Imogene, in cold blood up at Eden Park. Seriously, a rather twisted guy. Legend has it that Fitzgerald based his Great Gatsby character on Remus after meeting him at the Seelbach Hotel in Louisville (legend light on documentation) - but you get the idea about this guy's lavish and brazen lifestyle.

I also found it worth note that his change in professional venue from Chicago to Cincinnati, during the height of prohibition, was not just based on the overly crowded and protected territory under Capone, but on the German friendly population of Cincinnati that was already adept at producing a crap ton of liquor. Those family ties folks - remain strong in crime as well as genealogy.

As a postscript to my own family history - George's link to Falmouth has intrigued me even more. When I heard about the prolific nature of liquor production in Northern Kentucky, during and after prohibition, I suspected my great-grandfather's German immigrant family had a part in this profession. They were always listed as farmers in the census, but the family tradition of wine production is cemented with family artifacts related to said endeavor. One court record even relates the story of accused slander during a wine sale gone wrong - in Covington.

The family's wine production is a subject I hope to research more, but it's hard to research a profession purposefully veiled in secrecy. One clue that keeps me hot on the trail is a picture from 1935 - just after prohibition. My great aunt and uncle (brother and sister) sitting on the hoods of their matching brand new cars. By legal profession, he was a farmer, and she was a domestic servant in Cincinnati. During the depression, this was a highly unusual purchase for their legal circumstances. 1935 was during the time when Remus was trying to rebuild his liquor empire - with the Falmouth/German connection, did they know the Watson family and work for Remus? I highly doubt it - but Remus was known for a complex network of "connections" to supply his inventory - and he was well known for paying them quite handsomely. I guess I have some more research to do!

Delights at Dinner with the Dead

For a closet taphophile, I somehow spent several years missing the Dinner with the Dead events that have taken place in the surrounding areas. Fortunately, the Lexington History Museum resurrected the event this past weekend, long dead since 2009.

The event this Saturday was quite a novelty on many fronts. First, as a cemetery that is only open by appointment, just getting in was delight numero uno. From that point onward, I was just taking it all in: the stones, the falling leaves, the side events, the food, and the entertainment.

As a cemetery, the Old Episcopal Burying Ground is old for the area, 1832, but too young to be in this state. The ravages of time have not been kind. Most of the stones are either in pieces lying along the edge of the property, or weathered away, never to be read again. This fact made the scavenger hunt a tad disconcerting, but there were pockets of stones in decent enough shape to be read for the activity.

Personally, I found the size of the cemetery perfect for this type of event. It was small, yet not too small. There was plenty of acreage for folks to wander around at leisure, with plenty of space. Kids were running around, having fun, and groups had ample time to see all the stones available without getting overly tired.

Speaking of kids, there were several small activities to keep them engaged: besides the scavenger hunt, there was an eyeball (ping-pong) toss, and a cauldron-like musical walk that resulted in prizes based on the image each child stopped on....again, with plenty of room.

Probably the only awkward part of exploring was the abundance of walnuts and hedge apples on the ground. This is something one cannot control, but I found myself watching every step carefully, simply because I didn't want a twisted ankle. It made me think about liability with this type of event - should that be a concern, or am I over thinking this?

The dinner included a rather long wait due to each person being served at a time, but the choices were nice, yet simple: Pizza, mac and cheese varieties, jambalaya, chips, and a tiny cupcake dessert. As everyone was eating, the character interpretations got underway. One that was particularly educational was the Reverend London Ferrell. As the only African American buried in this cemetery, his story of pre-Civil War popularity among the white population was fascinating. He reminded everyone that he had the second largest funeral in Lexington, only Henry Clay's was larger.

It was a cloudy, and slightly drizzly evening, but that fit the somber nature of this cemetery, begun as a result of cholera that ravaged the area in the 1830s. As I took in the names and stories with reverence, the families and young people were bringing life back to the space. Ironically, the crowd had VERY few gray hairs....most were college students, young families with children, or middle-aged professionals. The families were also culturally/ethnically diverse which was representative of the urban population, but perhaps, also a reflection of the event itself. Many other cultures enjoy celebrating the dead, and others enjoy the fright of the season. Either way, the life celebrated was quite a treat - I'm sure the dead would have approved!

Eternal Membership Level

This weekend, our family went cemetery traipsing in Pendleton County and stumbled upon a new stone we had not seen before. I cannot tell you how old the stone is, nor even if the person memorialized is dead or not. I know it is fairly new because I had not seen it last year when visiting my grandparents' graves, plus, it is constructed in a current style: Solid black, polished granite with fine etchings. Despite the stone containing a name, there is no date range to determine time frame of this person's existence. After a little research, I have determined that this person was from the Falmouth area, but was living in Biloxi Mississippi as recently as 2004. A few possibilities: This person is still alive and will be buried here someday, the person is buried in MS and simply wanted a memorial stone in his hometown and family plot, or, this person has died recently and the dates are still waiting to be etched.

It is, however, the flip side of this stone that caught my attention. Every organization he was affiliated with is represented in the applique or etching of the official logo. I'm serious...EVERY ORGANIZATION. His church affiliation is the first and largest organization represented, followed by military insignias, educational logo, and finally LINEAGE societies seals. Some of the Lineage societies represented are: SAR, Kentucky First Families, Sons of Union Veterans, First Flight Families. He also chose to include membership affiliations such as the Kentucky Genealogical Society, and the Kentucky Historical Society, among others. As much as I enjoy my affiliations and memberships, I would personally prefer family information to be on a tombstone. Then again, this does tell me about the individual possibly buried there. I learned that he was very passionate about his membership in lineage societies and valued history. I also had a clue as to further research directions, such as church membership and education connection. My question is: what is your impression of this...good information or over the top allegiance?

Musical Graves & A Mystery Solved

In autumn 2011, I posted about the practice of grave robbing in the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky area. This late 19th century practice has been well documented, but the actual number of bodies stolen has not been. As part of the post, I related a family story that was written down and added to the E.E. Barton Papers in the 1940s: "My Mother never did think that her grandfather [Samuel Cox] rested in his grave, for just in a night or two at 12 o'clock, a man left that grave with something wrapped in white lying across his horse in front of him. The man was a truthful man, and is a brother-in-law of my father, Newton Humble was the man. [Speaking of the witness]. We always thought that it was old Dr. Thomas, and that he probably took the body to Cincinnati and the medical college to find out what was the cause of his death." Pearl Allender 

For decades, my family has known where this small family plot was located. My Great-Grandmother, Nellie Cox Beyersdoerfer, would always point it out to us, and when I was early into my genealogy journey, my Mother and I visited a few times. We knew this was the resting place of Samuel Cox (d.1857) and his first wife, Mary Dean Cox (d.1836), on their farm, Cox's Run. The stones were in terrible shape - hardly legible with lichens filling in the carvings. They were so bad that photographs did not help, and so I took notes about each stone. The plot only contained a few graves. Two upright, carved stones, and a couple of rocks sticking out of the ground with no markings/carvings. Per Kentucky law, the landowner had been faithful about keeping them from harm by placing his bales of hay around the plot each year. There was a small fence, but things were deteriorating, and they did sit dangerously close to the road.

Samuel and Mary Cox Graves, taken in 1996

In a surprise move out of left field, Jim Cox, another distant cousin and descendant of Samuel Cox, recently decided that they were in harms way. He took action and paid to have the graves re-located to a larger cemetery that already contained many of this couple's descendants. According to reports from John Peoples of Peoples Funeral Home in Falmouth, they disinterred each grave, but only found remains in two of them: the two adult graves with carved stones. With no remains being found in the rock marked graves, everyone assumes these were infants and already decomposed to dust. Both sets found were re-interred into the same grave next to Sam & Mary's Grandson, Jeremiah Cox in Lenoxburg Cemetery. If my memory serves me correctly, Jeremiah is on the outer edge of the cemetery, not too far from other Grandchildren of Sam & Mary - a very fitting spot for them - and quite romantic as this was the original couple who produced so many Cox descendants. I'm certain they would have approved.

So....with two sets of remains being found (one set was more complete than the other), this might suggest that our old family story related through many generations was just that - a story. Which, actually makes me feel better. I was hoping Grandpa Cox was resting peacefully in his grave, and not scattered to the wind without his family's knowledge or permission. This also exonerates poor Doc Thomas as Pearl accused so many years ago. Will this make me leave this story out of our family history? NO WAY!! I still love this story, and it serves as a valuable example of the oral grapevine that flourished in our family - even if the tale was wrong.

Plus....how do we know there wasn't some community truth to the story? In other words, maybe there wasn't a grave robbing going on....but maybe some other nefarious activity? Was someone sitting in a graveyard getting drunk and needed to be carted home? Was the person on the horse drunk and merely took a small detour late at night through the graveyard? Or, was Newton Humble drunk as a skunk that night, and telling a whopper only seen in his imagination? With any of these scenarios, it makes for a colorful addition to the family narrative! Besides, the conclusion they all made about the sight in the middle of the night proves the prolific nature of the grave robbing rumors in the area.

As for a small post script, their new stone has not been made just yet. That is a work in progress. Another cousin, Eric Peelman, has been hot on the trail of this story and is helping with the effort to replace the stone. They had hoped to re-incorporate the old stones into a new monument, but that might prove to be too cost prohibitive. However, Eric sent me these wonderful photos of the stones after they had been cleaned off - how beautiful they were under the years of lichen build-up!! We rarely get to see them in this state, so I was delighted with the end results. I can't wait to see what they have in store as a monument. Once that is up, I will travel to that cemetery for more photos!

Saving Ridgeway

Over the years I have watched many historical places whither and die due to neglect, bureaucracy or perceived progress. Last year I was made aware of a local struggle to save a historic plantation in the heart of the Bluegrass. In fact, the more I learned about this house, the more I wanted to back the effort. Its historic value goes beyond Kentucky and reaches to the national level. Unfortunately, despite its addition to the National Register of Historic Places in 2005, the closer we get to saving it, the harder the struggle becomes.

During the NGS Conference in Cincinnati I took a friend down to Cynthiana in Harrison County to see the house for the first time. He was one of the only known descendants of the house's builder: U.S. Congressman and War of 1812 veteran, Colonel William Brown. The house has been protected from demolition by a decade's worth of efforts from a few local angels. Over that decade, the land around the house has been beautifully re-developed into a community park. The Flat Run Veterans Park has provided much needed space for a farmers' market and several new sports fields for the local teams. Appropriately, the house stands as a beautiful sentinel at the top of the ridge, overlooking the entire park and Licking River valley. Absolutely one of the most beautiful views of the area that I have ever seen.

Built in 1817 (per a local tax increase seen in 1818), the home's builder was quite a historic gentleman. He was a noted local attorney and friend of Henry Clay. He served in the House of Representatives during the Missouri Compromise. His family connections became significant with is marriage to Harriette Warfield, the sister of Dr. Elisha Warfield - prominent Lexington Doctor who delivered Mary Todd Lincoln. This friendship with the Todd family would later influence many others known to the journey towards an end to slavery.

Ridgeway was built to be a large plantation worked by enslaved individuals. According to records, the Brown family enslaved almost 40 slaves, which was modest based on the size of acreage. By the late 1820s, something changed with the Colonel. He became unsettled with the concept of slavery. By 1830, with land grants in hand for the Illinois territory, due to his 1812 service, he made plans to relocate his family and slaves to Illinois as a means of freeing them. This process was not instantaneous. In 1831, the Colonel and his son-in-law relocated the majority of their slaves to Illinois, securing their freedom. A few slaves were left behind in Kentucky with the Colonel's son as they prepared to move the entire family to Illinois. Unfortunately, in 1832, tragedy struck. The Colonel became ill and died in Illinois.

Within the following decade, the Brown family had to recoup, but had not given up on their plan to move the entire family north. The Colonel's son, James N. Brown stayed for a few more years and tried to secure the beginnings of his new family - which resulted in the death of at least two children that we know of....their gravestones still exist, but have been vandalized and removed from their original resting place. The gravestones hope to be restored to their original location, or incorporated into a children's diversity garden in the back of the house - depending on the funding and plans approved. At the present, they lie in the foyer of Ridgeway.

Once the entire family finally made it to Illinois, they were already closely intertwined with the other Central Kentucky families that had relocated to the northern territory. Two such families were the Todd and Lincoln families. In fact, in the earliest years of the Brown's attempt to secure a future on their new farm, one of their first farmhands in Illinois, was a young Abraham Lincoln. This relationship only grew stronger as the years progressed. A few facts about this relationship:

James N. Brown: Son of Colonel Brown remained friends and colleagues with Lincoln throughout his lifetime. One of Lincoln's most important letters that explained his view on slavery was written to James. After Lincoln's death, James was chosen by Mary Todd Lincoln as one of the pallbearers in Springfield for the final journey of Lincoln's body.

Senator Orville Hickman Browning: Nephew of Colonel Brown and Cynthiana native. As an aspiring attorney, while still in Kentucky, he "read the law" with the Colonel at Ridgeway. Browning later became one of Lincoln's closest friends and advisers...later being appointed Secretary of the Interior by President Johnson. It was to Browning that Lincoln penned the famous line "to lose Kentucky is to lose the whole game." (1861)

After the Browns left Kentucky, the house had a long agricultural history. Slavery was once again a sad reality under the new owner, Dr. Joel C. Frazer. As a slave-holding Union supporter, he freely allowed the Union army to camp on the plantation just north of the river during the Civil War. As a critical area during the struggles with John Hunt Morgan in relation to the two Battles of Cynthiana, history has labeled the encampment as Camp Frazer.

After the Civil War, the house changed owners a few more times, all the while maintaining its strong agricultural heritage in the tobacco and horse industries. One of its last owners of the 19th century, William Handy raised competitive Trotter horses and was known nationally for their great quality. His work was so respected that the house later became known as The Handy House.

The structure itself has already been deemed structurally sound. The flooring throughout is comprised of thick Chestnut that blanketed the Eastern U.S. prior to a blight that wiped out this native resource. The carvings enhancing the stairs and mantle pieces are beautiful examples of period workmanship. Walking the house in this state was sad, but realizing the potential before our eyes reminded us of the importance of our efforts. The historic value in combination with the beautiful architectural elements makes this place special, and very worthy of salvation.

A New Future:
Our plans include re-vitalization, not period restoration. We would enhance and restore the period elements while incorporating some modern conveniences. With these improvements, Ridgeway would secure a new future as a much needed community center and ranger station to watch over the park. Unfortunately, misinformation has inspired a small local faction that is ever determined to get rid of the house - with intentions of building a swimming pool in its place. For the record, there is ample room next to the house where the barns once stood, plus, there is no funding available for any pool construction once the house was demolished. As an added deterrent, federal assistance would be blocked for further improvements to the park if the town decided to demolish a federally recognized structure as Ridgeway was declared in 2005.

And then there are the nearby graves...
Regardless of intention regarding need for a local pool, there is also the matter of two nearby cemeteries. Some of the families that resided at Ridgeway over the decades, both free and enslaved are buried somewhere near the house. Unfortunately, this does not seem to impress upon the local opposition, despite the legal implications of digging up a couple of cemeteries.

How you can help:
We are so close....the city has given us a temporary lease to make improvements on the property for the purpose of converting into a community center. Of course, major funding is being sought to complete the work. Somewhere in the neighborhood of $300,000. Many local folks have worked for over a decade to get this far, but time is running out. If we do not secure funding to begin improvements soon, the city will take the lease away, and the house will be disposed of in short order. Please consider donating any small amount to help with the effort! Tax-deductible donations can be made through the Friendsofridgeway.org site.
We would also love some additional support via our Facebook page: Friends of Ridgeway.
Thank you all for your support!
CD
PR Chairman, Harrison County Heritage Council

The Empty Grave

After last year's post about genealogy encounters of the Creepy kind, my creepy meter has been getting a work out all year. My above title does not refer to the Resurrection, but to those monsters of the cemetery: The Resurrectionists (cue evil cackle and lightning/thunder.) My interest in this macabre group came about after two incidents. Late last year I became acquainted with the cemetery/burial issues concerning the Eastern State Hospital in Lexington KY. During a period of time spanning from 1824 to the 1950s, patients dying while residing in the "lunatic asylum" were believed to have been buried on the premises, especially when family members could not afford the cost of hometown burial. Unfortunately, finding the "missing" remains has been a huge challenge. The records are "missing" from the state, and apparently, so are the bodies. Some bodies have been discovered on the premises, but the number is very low compared to the amount that should be there. One of the documents I viewed in regard to this issue was a letter from a health nurse in the 1980s. She suggested that perhaps many of the bodies are missing because they were never buried, but instead, transported north to the Cincinnati Medical College for post-mortem use: ie: dissection.

I don't think many people took this suggestion very seriously, but I suspect it is a distinct possibility. Eastern State Hospital sits right next to the railroad line, and reports have surfaced that the Cincinnati to Indianapolis to Michigan network for cadavers was a true network that involved pickle/paint vats and the train system. For those of you not familiar with Cincinnati's grave robbing history, I suggest three things: 1. Read up on the grave-robbing scandal involving the Harrison family. 2. Check into some of the publications written by Dr. Linden Forest Edwards at Ohio State University. He wrote a series of articles for the Ohio State Medical Journal back in the 1950s that were later re-published in the form of small booklets by the Wayne County Indiana Public Library. These articles/booklets explored the medical practice of employing grave robbers to fill the need of fresh cadavers for medical dissection. (I will provide a small reading list at the end of the post) 3. Watch the video posted at the end from the History Detectives. They are researching a grave alarm which in turn leads them to go over some of the numbers associated with the grave robbing "industry" of the time. With each medical college in the area advertising a cadaver for each student, the number of fresh cadavers needed each year was pretty staggering.

The Cincinnati area was rife with the problem. Bodies were being stolen all the time during this period (1860s-1880s)....many from poorer cemeteries. Dr. Edwards wrote about the stories that were being told, and people were so aware of this problem that they employed night watchmen to guard over fresh graves - if they could afford this service.....otherwise, sometimes carried out by family members. Ironically, in the largest Cincinnati Cemetery, Spring Grove Cemetery, the Medical College erected a headstone in memory of all the bodies used for scientific purposes. I think that alone speaks volumes about the number of bodies we might be talking about.

So what about the central Kentucky area? Were these areas susceptible to the crime of stealing bodies? Without any real proof, my gut says, not as much as the Cincinnati/Louisville area. We had Transy's Medical School here, but I would imagine the need for them was not as large. Louisville was noted to have a bit of a problem there, but like Cincinnati, they were on a river. I would say, unless we used the railroad heavily, I would guess the easiest victims were had more along the river. After all, the grave robbers may have sold the fresh bodies to the medical colleges, but they were essentially on their own. If arrested, it was clear the men acted "on their own", with the doctors nor colleges feeling any heat with the arrest. Public sentiment grew pretty hostile against this practice, but things did not change until laws were passed that allowed legal acquiring of cadavers, including the donation of bodies.

This regional issue brings me to my second encounter with grave robbing. It came when I stumbled upon a note in the E.E. Barton papers of Pendleton County KY. One of my distant cousins related a tale that had been passed down in the family about the burial of my fourth great grandfather, Samuel Cox: "My Mother never did think that her grandfather rested in his grave, for just in a night or two at 12 o'clock, a man left that grave with something wrapped in white lying across his horse in front of him. The man was a truthful man, and is a brother-in-law of my father, Newton Humble was the man. (Speaking of the witness). We always thought that it was old Dr. Thomas, and that he probably took the body to Cincinnati and the medical college to find out what was the cause of his death."

What really struck me about this report was the proximity of Samuel's grave.....it is a small family plot on the side of the road, out in the rural areas of northern Pendleton County, which is a pretty hilly place. If I was going to snatch some bodies, I wouldn't want to have to trek up those hills an back down again carrying a body, just for $10. But then, it wasn't too much farther to Foster in Bracken County which was right on the river. What better way to transport bodies? So, it has all just made my head spin a little to wonder....how many of our ancestors are not in the cemeteries we visit? I don't really mind them being used for science.....but it kinda makes me mad in a way....our ancestors were so against it, for religious/principle reasons.....what gave these colleges the right to steal what belonged to our families? And once they were done, I'm assuming the bones were burned, etc. Which means we no longer have true knowledge of a final resting place. I think the headstone placed in Spring Grove is a nice gesture, but I would like to know where they deposited the post-dissection pieces or ashes. I think that would be the proper place for a memorial - and a place we could point to as a final resting place. Anyway, just some points to ponder - especially on Halloween :-)

Watch Cemetery Alarm on PBS. See more from History Detectives.

For additional reading:
Body Snatching in Ohio During the Nineteenth Century by Dr. Linden F. Edwards
Cincinnati's Old Cunny by Dr. Linden F. Edwards
Dissection and Body Snatching in the Nineteenth Century by Heather Fox, The Filson, Volume 9, Number 2, Summer 2009
The Poor, the Black, and the Marginalized as the Source of Cadavers in United States Anatomical Education by Edward C. Halperin, Clinical Anatomy, Vol 20, 2007.

Aerial Photography & Rural Cemeteries

We all know the unsurpassed usefulness of Google Earth for scrutinizing unfamiliar topography (including historical images), but back in 2002, our family needed older rural images to help in cemetery research. Several cousins from around the country and Canada got together to stage a cemetery intervention or attempted rescue in Bracken County Kentucky. After years of debating and combining genealogical research, a few of the cousins had found remnants of our Brandenburg/Hughbanks family cemetery at the top of a very steep hill near Foster. Due to the remote area of the cemetery, and the unfriendly stance of the current landowner, some of our research involved aerial photography.

Before I give a small report about the Brandenburg Cemetery, let me explore the use of aerial photography for cemetery research. At present, most states have quadrant coverage of current aerial photographs available for free online. Many of these sites are linked to current topographical maps and other studies posted by statewide government agencies. As a general rule, most of these maps and aerial photographs are fairly recent - usually within 10-15 years old depending on the agency posting the information.

However, when many of the older rural cemeteries were begun, they were done so during a time when the areas were much more agrarian. In most cases the land had been cleared for farming and well maintained in that manner for generations. It has only been within the past 30+/- years that these former fields have been abandoned, allowing the regrowth to obscure former markers. Having driven many backroads, I can tell you that a small stand of large clumped trees near a field or in the middle of a field is a strong indication of either a cemetery or sink hole. Sometimes the only clue to go on is the types of trees in the clump to hint at the purpose, until, hopefully, walking closer to the site can offer a view of fence or stone remnants. But what about the cemeteries we can't see from the road, or are not accessible even though we've heard about the possibility of its existence from the locals?

1965 aerial view of Foster and the Kennon Road area prior to the AA Highway construction.

This is when we turned to the older aerial photos available through local state storehouses. In this case we went to the Geology Library (now the Science Library) at the University of Kentucky to peruse through the older photos taken in the 1960s (some counties have photos as far back as the 1930s). In the Northern Kentucky area, farming was still the main occupation on these steep yet rounded hills. Therefore, the aerial photos from this timeframe gave us just enough visual information to see former households, assent routes, and in this case, former topography indicators prior to a state highway construction. These photos are original and in paper form just sitting in giant drawers. The staff had scanning equipment available to scan and send the photos to yourself at no charge.

For our case, they made all the difference. Due to the construction of the AA Highway, the original road had been cut in two, leaving the gradual incline cut off in one direction, and very far away in the other direction. About 20 years after the production of the 1960s photos, someone had purchased the gradual incline side, built a new house and assent in the form of a driveway, but would not allow their new driveway to be used as the egress to the cemetery. In essence, the cemetery had been cut off from any plausible access route. We all hiked straight up a dangerous quarter mile incline to get to the cemetery of our ancestors. Kentucky law states that landowners have to allow family to visit cemeteries, but any law surrounding how they allow access is vague, and since the driveway was new, they basically said, "no - find another way up there". Ironically, when we were up there, they called the local judge to try to have us arrested for trespassing, and the judge was allowed to use the driveway for access. Good times. BTW, the judge could not touch us as he informed the landowner of the law. He was just up there making sure we were family and not troublemakers.

The cemetery was also registered that day by the Kentucky Historical Society as a pioneer cemetery since at least one person buried there was born in the state prior to 1800 (James Hughbanks). We had a great time, even inviting a local preacher to conduct a small re-dedication ceremony, but the cemetery itself was beyond our means to save. The landowner had also parked a 1950s rusted out Chevy in the middle of our cemetery and refused to move it....which meant some of the stones could still be underneath. We found some of the main stones, but many were missing - some were "rediscovered" locally at a hunting club who had used them as stepping stones! We did the best we could....cleaned out brush, placed wooden markers there for later replacement, but funding was never found to properly restore this pioneer site. There is a Findagrave entry with photos of all the stones we found.

The moral of the story is: older aerial photos can be wonderful tools for not only locating cemeteries, but homesteads, access routes, tributaries and other distinguishable markers that could not be seen under current levels of brush. Thanks to cousin Katheryn Maddox Haddad for getting the cousins started on this adventure - we at least got it cleaned up a bit and documented for future generations!

CD

Shadows of Eastern State Hospital

Earlier this year I learned about and joined the Facebook group "Eastern State Hospital Cemetery Preservation Project". I did so for two reasons: 1. Cemetery preservation is something I believe to be vital to our cultural heritage. 2. Lewis P. Mockbee. Over my years of family history research, I kept stumbling upon G-G-G-Great Uncle Lewis. He was listed in the family rosters as he should be, but I always made a mental note when I passed by his records because there was a notation included that mentioned his passing and burial at Eastern State Hospital in Lexington, KY.

In the back of my mind, I had always intended to research him further. The ESH Preservation group was a reason, but even with this new impetus, life intruded and I was not able to aid their cause as I would have liked. Recently, Uncle Lewis came back to my mind as I read the latest article in a local paper: Tomb of the Unknowns by Bruce Burris.

For those of you not familiar with this particular case, ESH is the second oldest mental hospital in the country. Started in 1822, it carried a stigma for families and local officials that continues to serve as an obstacle in properly remembering those who died and were buried on the grounds of the ESH. Here are the gut wrenching facts about burial at ESH: a.) No one knows how many bodies are buried there since the records are scattered, lost, and in some cases refused access, even for loved ones of the deceased. b.) Physical remains are so hard to locate because the bodies were moved so many times, or buried over by development, that most are in a "scattered" state. c.) Estimates on body count run into the thousands, and random skeletal remains sometimes surface or are stumbled upon within a few inches of the soil line.

According to the article, access to any of the patient/burial records - even for those 100 years or older - are stonewalled, flat denied access, require court order prior to release, or are held hostage at the capital archives. The efforts by the official preservation group include researchers seeking out other records to fill in the names of lost patients. In many cases, obituaries and death records are enough to place an ancestor at the hospital, and Mary Hatton, the lead genealogist for the group has started a spreadsheet that allows families to add their loved ones as they are discovered.

A complete list of the efforts, as well as the spreadsheet can be found at the ESH Cemetery Preservation Project's official site called: Naming the Forgotten. Wonderful assistance, history, and a small number of records can be accessed there if you suspect you had a loved one that spent some time or their last days at this facility.

Without the official records, the trail of each patient from ESH can be hugely complex or confusing. As I mentioned before, the stigma attached to the loved ones who ended up at ESH has clouded some of the past accounts. I will use Uncle Lewis as an example.

Lewis P. Mockbee was born September 2nd 1842, in Pendleton County Kentucky, the son of Charles Wesley Mockbee and Mary Malinda Moore. He served during the Civil War in the Union army: Co. A 18th KY Volunteer Infantry. During this service, he was wounded and taken prisoner at Richmond KY. By 1864, he was in a Chattanooga Hospital where he was later released. He married Rachel Fields on April 24th, 1867. To their union, ten children were born. Rachel died in 1888 at the age of 43.

Within approximately four years of his wife's death, Lewis was sent to the "asylum in Lexington." Nothing has been passed down to explain his condition or why he was sent there to live for the next 30 years before his death on February 27th, 1922. What has been published out there online has perpetuated the "fact" that Lewis died and was buried at ESH. This repetition of "fact" made me feel a little closer to the project's efforts.

However, after a simple search for Uncle Lewis's obituary, the "facts" became somewhat altered. That old-fashioned microfilm search turned up the following result:

"L.P. Mockbee, aged 80 years, died Monday at the State Hospital, Lexington, where he had been for the past thirty years.

Mr. Mockbee was a native of this county and is survived by five children: C.P. Mockbee, Mrs. Calvin, Mrs. William Davis, Mrs. L. Mattox, of this county, and Anna Ellis of Ohio.

Mr. Mockbee had many friends in this county who will be sorry to learn of his passing.

The remains were brought back to his old home Tuesday morning. Funeral services were conducted Wednesday at Short Creek, and interment took place in the Short Creek Cemetery."

Taken from the Falmouth Outlook, March 3rd, 1922
There was a small bit of irony that I noted about the placement of Uncle Lewis's obituary. It was not hidden in a back page, but prominently placed on the front page with other obituaries, right at the top under the masthead. This man's life was celebrated by his children and not hidden as other ancestors have been according to fellow researchers. They did not mention his Civil War service in his obit, but rather, mentioned the fact that he had many friends. They did not hide his illness, and chose to list it in the opening paragraph.

So many other ESH residents were not as lucky. Some families sent loved ones there and never heard from them again. Even if the family was still in contact with the loved one, financial constraints and the logistics of moving the body back to the home county, was frequently insurmountable - which meant the loved ones were interred at the ESH, with no chance for future visitation by relatives as is customary with a standard burial. They truly did join the ranks of the forgotten. I remember sighing a little bit in relief when I saw Uncle Lewis's final resting place as Short Creek Cemetery. It was comforting to know his remains were in an undisturbed, peaceful place, with a stone for identification. Immediately after that thought, I felt guilty that thousands were not as fortunate.

I urge everyone to support the efforts of this preservation group. The ESH burial issue is larger than the state it belongs to. As they work toward securing a permanent and respectful resting place, we must remember that each loved one buried there has an identity and story that needs to be discovered and restored to our collective memory. As Burris noted, these scattered remains include many veterans who deserve a resting place of honor....not these scattered acres of namelessness.

How to get involved:
Visit the main site to learn more: Naming the Forgotten
Join their Facebook Group: Eastern State Hospital Cemetery Preservation Group
If you suspect you have any relatives that spent time there or died there, now is the time to put their research at the top of your list - to give them back their identity.

CD
12/13/10

Creepy Encounters

There are those moments, albeit infrequently, that we discover something among our research that sends a tiny little shiver down the spine.....or gives us goosebumps.....or makes us pass by it quickly because it's just plain creepy. History is full of genuine horror stories and unexplained phenomenons, and although I have never encountered the paranormal during my two decades worth of research, I have had my fair share of creepy encounters. For fun, I will include a few examples of what I mean.....tis the season to share the creepy....or put the family skeletons in the front room window!

Cemetery Creepiness:

These places are chock full of creepy. After all, as my mother always reminds me, I'm playing among the dead when I have to visit one for research. She uses the word "playing" because I actually enjoy roaming among these peaceful and beautiful places full of life memorials. However, there are times when we run across the death reminders, and they can be a little disconcerting.....

Here are a couple of examples of what I like to call the faceless figures. Time and weather have worn away the stones to the degree that no facial features remain....only a silent figure that stands guard over the lost loved one.....reminding us that time marches on and renders everything and everyone to dust.

Sometimes the site of a fresh grave with a mound of wilted flowers gives me a little shiver of creepy, but this photo below seemed to have a little dash of creepiness on the side. We were visiting Daniel Boone's grave in Frankfort Kentucky when I walked around to the backside of the monument. In the back corner of the iron fence that surrounds the rectangular tower, was this wilted token of remembrance. I suspected it was left by someone who had been in the cemetery for the purpose of funeral attendance and had this little rose leftover.....but then, it could be someone locally who does this regularly for old Daniel's tomb.....either way, the rose in wilted form on that dreary day was another reminder of our being like the flower that quickly fades.

And let us not forget the cracked above ground tomb.....getting the zombie vibe!

Those Eyes!

Let's face it.....we can all remember those odd family photos where the person's facial expression or fathomless eyes have almost made us jump back in startled response......

As exhibit A, I have this nameless, but pretty girl from my family. I know she is from my mother's side of the family, but from what branch, I am at a loss. However, those wide, pale eyes, while wearing white, among a white background.....so utterly ghostly!

And speaking of ghosts! From now on, when I read about Jacob Marley in Dickens' A Christmas Carol, I am going to picture this face forever. Poor guy.....Jonathan Harrington is actually one of our nation's heroes as he fought at the Battle of Lexington as a young man in 1775. You can read about his life in Maureen Taylor's book The Last Muster - pg. 75.

The Headless/Faceless:

After generations of relating stories about headless horsemen and apparitions, finding a photo that has carefully had the face or head removed speaks to a certain level of creepy. In my opinion, the physical act of intentionally removing that face or head from the photo is evidence of a tremendous emotional moment from the past. Either great grief, or rage spurred that type of action, and an object that has been the recipient of great human emotion from the past, kind of makes my creepy meter go off......and then there is the obvious creepiness associated with a headless figure. Double whammy in my book!

My first example comes from the Library of Congress' newest digitized acquisition: The Liljenquist Collection. This photo of the unidentified Union Soldier with his headless lady was quite a shocker while perusing this magnificent collection. Perhaps because they couldn't just cut out the woman's head, but they had to sit and scrape away the image of her face.....evidence of a pretty disturbed individual?

My second example is from our family collection - little Granville Hampton. I am well aware of the special challenge that had to exist back in the day when photography lacked any high-speed capability. This meant children were hard moving targets to capture on film......so what was a mother to do? Drape herself in a bold fabric of course and hold the child still. Sorry, this registers on my creepy meter.
Open Caskets/Post Mortem:
Open casket and post mortem shots are pretty high on my creepy meter.....but I know it was highly popular once upon a time. The example below is the only open casket photo we have in our family collection. As you can see, it is of a baby, which removes the creepy, and replaces it with a twinge of sadness.....children in the caskets are hugely tragic, and due to the year range of the 1920s, I will not reveal the name of the little infant. As far as I can tell, she was not a family member, but a close neighbor from the northern part of Kentucky. Animals:
Yes, we have photos of dead moose from Canada in our family collection, and even a dead skunk that great grandpa John was skinning while drunk.....but those never creeped me out. This little guy below was a little creepy, because, how did they manage to capture his ears and tail in this perfectly erect state? And on second thought.....what did he see that made him so scared? Sure looks like he sees a ghost! For immortality purposes, the little guy's name was Spot...of course.
Hope you enjoyed this macabre posting.....what sort of creepy have you encountered? CD
10/29/10
Sepia Saturday #47