Thursday, August 11, 2011
Lives of the Past
We climbed into the car, with no specific goal in mind. I started the car, pulled out of the drive, and just drove. I turned the car east on federal highway 136. When it curved to go into Danville I kept going straight onto Illinois 119, which changed into another highway once we crossed into Indiana. We ended up on George Rogers Clark memorial highway. Finally, we ended up in Attica, Indiana. There were interesting old buildings in the downtown area, which I may post on a future blog. Today though I have other thoughts on my mind.
One story was about Hazel B. York. She was buried next to her beloved husband. Hazel must have loved her husband dearly and faithfully. She was widowed at the age of 28, but passed away at the age of 94. Sixty-six years passed between the loss of her husband Arthur, and her own death.
There were sad stories of children that had passed much too young. It reminded me of how lucky I have been. I have been very blessed with healthy children that I happily watched grow into adults. I never had to go through the pain and I have to guess pure agony of losing a baby. Losing children was such a common thing at one time in our history.
This particular little cemetery was not next to a church, it was not close to a community that I could see. It was however, well tended and each grave carefully preserved.
Cemeteries hold the history of our country. Not the big history found in books and websites. The little history of the lives of the people that built our nation. The people who fought in the wars, the people who raised the children that grew into the history makers in the books. The people that sacrificed and lived and laughed and cried. Their stories are there.