Trip to Old Cemetery Yields Unexpected Finds
Thursday, October 29th, 2009Today, we did something that is always fun to do. We walked through a small country cemetery. I love to read epitaphs. Often, there is some endearing tribute or religious sentiment on very old stones. On several that we saw today, the words simply said, “Gone home.” It is amazing to see that only a rock marks some graves.
Walking through the cemetery, I paused to squint at one inscription when all of a sudden, the song of a chickadee in a nearby shrub, pierced the air, startling the silence. Some of the stones had been laid flat by the force of wind or weather. A couple of the fragile marble stones had broken into two pieces and had been hinged back together. Lichen growth was heavy on many granite stones, to the point that any writing, including names, was obscured.

Jim discovered this stone that is a tribute to a Civil War soldier.
Rufus L. Leavitt died …
in consequence of inhuman treatment during an imprisonment of 5 mo. in Salisbury, NC – 26 yrs, 1 mo.
Jim walked through one half of the cemetery and I walked through the other. I found exactly what we were seeking, to follow up on a most interesting story of humor shared recently by New Hampshire’s own humor writer, Rebecca Rule. I hope that it will be in her next book!

This particular 50 year old man may have earned the right to be called a “pillow” (of the community).
I was so pleased that Jim found the headstone of the town minister about whom I’d read so much. Likewise, I was elated that he located the headstone of the grandparents of an important woman (Ellen Emeline Hardy Webster) whose life I have chronicled. Their names are Ichabod Packard Hardy and Emeline Mary Webster.

This is the gravestone of Ellen Emeline Hardy Webster’s grandparents. Ellen’s middle name is the same as her grandmother’s first name. I wrote a 355 page biography of Ellen last year. Ellen’s married name was Webster, and it only coincidental that her grandmother’s maiden name was also “Webster.”
So much history to be found in New England, which is why I love it here. I can’t imagine going anywhere else to live. In being able to view the actual gravestones of once-living people, I realize how important (and nice) it is to have a final resting place. Somehow, it proves that you were “here.” For me, it makes the names of people I’ve read about in print seem like old friends. Yes, I do love old cemeteries!
Patricia Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications





