52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 38
Prompt: On the Map
#52ancestors
Several years ago, my family had a camping weekend on the old
family farm. Though the house was gone,
it was the perfect place for a relaxing fun filled family campout. As with most
family reunions, we had really good food, lots of conversation, games, and
fun. You can't imagine the fun of having
a hide and seek at night with family from preschoolers to those in their 70s.
As we sat around the fire one night, we went around the
circle telling stories about the farm and what we remembered. There were both
funny and poignant memories. The older generation remembered their brother,
Bobby Glenn, who only lived a few hours. Gwonda was almost 8 years old when he was born
and she remembered her Grandmother lovingly wrapping him up and putting him
near the stove to stay warm.
When Bobby Glenn passed, his father and grandmother took him
to a country cemetery near their farm. His mother was very sick after he was
born and when he passed she wasn't able to go to the cemetery. Months later, when she was well enough to go,
neither her husband nor mother in law could remember exactly where they buried
Bobby Glenn.
As memories of Bobby Glenn were shared around the campfire, I
mentioned that I wished I knew the name of the cemetery where he was buried. To
my surprise, two of my Uncles said that they knew where it was but couldn't
remember the name. They offered to take
me there the next day. So the next day, we loaded up the car, two uncles, an
aunt, a cousin, and me to set off for the cemetery that wasn't very far away.
We drove up and down the country roads looking for the
cemetery with first Teddy Mac giving directions and then Teddy Gene. The rest of us were along for the ride and
more family stories. After awhile, it seemed like we were going up and down the
same roads, but both of my Uncles were sure that it was around there
somewhere. Neither one are the type to give up. The three of us in the back
seat, cousin Nancy, Aunt Sadie, and me
were perfectly happy driving around, talking and teasing the Uncles about their
directions. I'm sure that those left at
the farm wondered what happened to us because the cemetery was supposed to be
only 15 minutes away.
Eventually, we saw a farmer on his tractor in a field. He had to be local and hopefully would know
where the cemetery was located. My 70
something year old Uncle, stopped the car on the side of the road and traipsed
across the field to talk to the farmer. He came back with new directions. It turns out that we were turning around one
road short of where we needed to go, so the cemetery was just a little farther
than we had gone up to that point. We
went up to the next cross road, traveled about another mile to the next road
and turned left. Sure enough, there was
Denton Cemetery on the right. Now I knew
the name and where it was located.
We spent some time walking in the cemetery and found near the
back fence a row of children and infant graves. None of the graves had names,
but all were marked with natural stones. The chain link fence is obviously a
new addition and wasn't there when Bobby Glen was buried, but the chances are
that one of those graves is his.
Recently, I was back in the area and had a little time before
heading home to Texas. We decided to visit Denton Cemetery again. This time because we knew the name of the
cemetery and had Google Maps, we were able to drive straight to it. But it was
not nearly as memorable as that first trip.
Bobby
Glenn McCarley
May 24, 1938
Son of Gladys Mamie Sample and Thomas Osa McCarley
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