I found my grandma!
When I was about 18, I was driving around an unfamiliar part of Nashville and I ran across the old city cemetery. I’m a cemetery hag from an old Nashville family, so I absolutely had to stop and have a look around. Very eerie it was, too — all overgrown and neglected, with the stones leaning at all angles. The perfect creepy Deep South cemetery.
I was astonished to find my great-great-great grandmother buried there. Had to be her because she had an unusual name — one that was given to me as a middle name and has dogged me ever since. In fact, much as I love the silliness of it, I tried to drop it when I married and use my old last name as my new middle name. Her Maj would have none of it and the name appears on all my official correspondence. I think when I take my citizenship (soon, by the way) I’ll give up and adopt it officially.
Anyway, I was astonished because I know she died in Louisiana in 1850-something and I hate to think how they got her home to Nashville and what kind of condition she was in. There was an inscription on the stone I couldn’t read, and the grave was surrounded by a high wrought iron fence. I briefly considered climbing over for a closer look, but thought of how many different kinds of hell my father would give me if I got knicked doing something I oughtenta in the City Cemetery.
So yesterday, somebody on FaceBook *spit* mentioned the City Cemetery and how well it’s kept now and what a good website they have. And, sure enough, I went there found my grandma. Her grave has been cleaned, the stone has been restored. It looked nice. I sent them a thank you note.
Point is — as I’m discovering, working for an historical society — more and more stuff is being conserved all the time. And more and more of the stuff that is conserved is coming online. If you have a particular family interest, it’s worth rechecking on a regular basis.
Bonus read: visual guide to gravestone symbolism.
Posted: March 5th, 2015 under personal.
Comments: 15
Comments
Comment from Stark Dickflüssig
Time: March 6, 2015, 12:47 am
Had to be her because she had an unusual name — one that was given to me as a middle name and has dogged me ever since.
Hey, look at this, I just failed to speculate!
Speaking of symbolism, my gravestone will have a couple of dancing girls holding a hot-dog & a french fry aloft.
Comment from Deborah HH
Time: March 6, 2015, 1:29 am
Stoat—have you told Uncle Badger the story of William Driver?
Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: March 6, 2015, 2:04 am
Now I’m gonna be distracted off and on for a day or two, idly trying to imagine what Stoaty’s middle name is. It’s got to be a humdinger…
Comment from Some Vegetable
Time: March 6, 2015, 2:04 am
Yeah, you share an unusual name, but are you -sure-? You could be making a grave mistake……
🙂
Comment from Stark Dickflüssig
Time: March 6, 2015, 2:32 am
Now I’m gonna be distracted off and on for a day or two, idly trying to imagine what Stoaty’s middle name is. It’s got to be a humdinger…
Well, I went & looked (on line), but there ain’t no “Humdinger” Weasel in the whole dang cemetery. I’m holding out for “Squirrelbacon”.
Comment from catnip
Time: March 6, 2015, 3:56 am
Talk about serendipity, Stoaty. The cemetery sign pictured lists the name of one of my ancestors!
I wish I could say the name of the deceased is Brig. Gen. Felix K. Zollicoffer, but my maiden name wasn’t nearly that distinctive. I can’t wait to email my sister a copy of that photo—she’ll freak.
Thanks for this post! You’re the blogger than keeps on giving.
Comment from S. Weasel
Time: March 6, 2015, 7:11 pm
Well, it isn’t Pearl, McGoo. I had a rich, horrible, horribly rich Aunt Pearl who would probably have left me the lot (or at least a bit of it) if it had been.
I have had several brushes with wealth, but fate has lousy aim. Now all my childless aunties have died and it turns out — who knew? — none of them loved me all that much.
Comment from Buffalone
Time: March 6, 2015, 7:15 pm
This cemetery just a couple of blocks away from where I work.
Small internet.
Comment from S. Weasel
Time: March 6, 2015, 7:29 pm
Wave hello to my grandma when you pass by, Buff. She’s been dead 150 years so she’s probably pretty bored by now.
Comment from Buffalone
Time: March 6, 2015, 7:42 pm
K.
*looks for weird name and high wrought iron fence*
Comment from JeffS
Time: March 6, 2015, 7:47 pm
Wave hello to my grandma when you pass by, Buff. She’s been dead 150 years so she’s probably pretty bored by now
Bored to death, I’m sure.
BOOM TISH! 🙂
Comment from Oldcat
Time: March 6, 2015, 9:26 pm
Poor Felix Zollicoffer. A decent enough General whose drunken boss Crittenden made him cross a river and attack the Yankees under George Thomas. There was a driving rainstorm and most of his troops guns didn’t fire. Zoli’s glasses were so fogged up he rode up to a Union regiment to give an order and was shot dead. His boss blamed him for attacking and most historians follow.
Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: March 6, 2015, 9:50 pm
I want to keep the mystery alive, Stoaty, so don’t tell me.
As Paul Simon said, “…(It will) never match my sweet imagination – – Everything looks worse in black and white”.
Comment from AliceH
Time: March 6, 2015, 11:42 pm
I’ve found lots of my ancestors via the Find A Grave website. It’s a crowd-sourced thing I think, but they do a very thorough job.
Comment from mojo
Time: March 9, 2015, 6:54 pm
“On the whole, I’d rather be in Philadelphia.”
— W.C. Fields’ Epitaph
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