So I rang the bell, the man said he was just closing up. We were lucky and found a place close by, that had a sign for office hour for the cemetery, we had 5 minutes before closing. (60+ years ago) And I said to my sister, it has to be here somewhere, she said are you sure, because we couldn’t find it at all, Yes I’m sure it has to be here, nowhere to be found. I had one of the worst experiences, 6 years ago I was able to fly home, for a visit, after a long time being away, we went to go and see the grave of my grandparents, I had been there ones before when I was 17 or so. One of my fantasies is to move near in retirement or at least take long visits to there….and tend to that old part of the cemetery, perhaps be able to make a long-lasting display of those old, broken headstones for searching relatives…. I live 3,000 miles away, and usually only get to “visit” when I need to bury a family member. Whomever cleaned up the mess, just stacked the shards and stones somewhere in the back of the cemetery where “trash” and lawn cuttings go. Sigh…one of my family burial grounds in rural PA was vandalized, headstones smashed, broken, in the oldest half of the cemetery (the other half is “perpetual care” and would have been restored…but this was the oldest section, with family graves dating back to early 1800, of persons born in early 1700’s, many of them the first settlers to the area). What a beautiful story about people caring for strangers, for each other, and for our family members who went before us and for keeping family members and memories, and history intact. Because the cemetery where Mary is buried no longer allows marble markers, they brought the stone back to Paul’s home where it remains.
He took his truck (and a strong friend) and picked up the 400-pound marble memorial to Mary. Crews salvaged the headstone and Paul immediately came to retrieve it. It’s possible that the headstones found in the lake were were not originally placed on the graves because they had an inscription mistake.Īmazingly, the timing was perfect as the new owner was having his breakwall redone and offered to retrieve the headstone from the water if possible. He located the property owner and learned the stone was still in the lake (nobody knows how it got there!). Like following a trail of breadcrumbs, Paul was led to where the stone could be found. In her research regarding cemeteries in Detroit she came across a memorial with information about headstones found underwater in a lake, about an hour outside of the city. She searched Find a Grave and learned that Paul managed a memorial matching the description of one of the headstones included with that information. Jacquie messaged Paul and ultimately she connected him with another friend who helped with her research and knew more about two of the Detroit cemeteries and a gravestone monument company. Years turned into decades and those who knew Mary passed on.Ī few months back, Paul received a message from Jacquie, another contributor. They purchased a marble headstone and Mary’s memory was immortalized. Her family was devastated by the loss of their beautiful, dark-haired daughter. Mary contracted the disease and died when she was just 22. Contaminated water caused a typhoid fever epidemic that swept through the city. Paul’s great aunt Mary passed away in Detroit, Michigan, in 1905. One of our contributors, Paul Vogt, was recently on the receiving end of an amazing act of kindness. Their influence has contributed to your own story. When you stand before the grave of a loved one, you understand that their story intermingles with yours.
An understanding arises that they have been where you are now – and someday you will be where they now rest.
You know that between birth and death, there is a lifetime of stories. You might run a finger across the etched birth and death dates. Why do Find a Grave volunteers spend so much time photographing and documenting graves? Because we understand that this small act of service opens the door for others to discover their ancestors’ stories.įrank Delaney said, “To understand and reconnect with our stories, the stories of the ancestors, is to build our identities.” When one walks up to a tombstone or a memorial site, there arises a feeling of brevity and wonder. Each lie in rest with their mark left behind, their mark on our lives and also what was left in remembrance on their marker. A life that was undoubtedly filled with hopes and dreams, happiness and heartbreak. Each headstone, rock, photograph, or candle represents a life lived. Other times, the stories take hours of time and research to uncover. Sometimes the stories come to us easily, like following a gently worn path our ancestors left for us many years ago. However a person is laid to rest, there is one thing all of these places have in common – they are vast libraries of unknown and untold stories.
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