In Your Own Backyard: Hidden Cemeteries of North DeKalb

28 Friday Feb 2014

Posted by adventuresincemeteryhopping in General

One of the enticements of cemetery hopping is discovering the ones I’ve never seen before. Especially those off the beaten path.

I recently purchased a copy of Cemetery Records of Tucker, Georgia and Environs by Ted O. Brooke. As I thumbed through it, I found some smaller cemeteries I’d never even heard of before.

My photographer friend, Jennifer (who wrote a guest post a while ago), also loves these hidden gems. We finally found time to venture out together to see some of them. She’d already seen most of them but like me, enjoys revisiting certain cemeteries over and over.

Nesbit Family Cemetery

Nesbit Family Cemetery sits on the edge of the Gwinnett County line near the busy intersection of Lawrenceville Highway and Jimmy Carter Boulevard. I must have passed by it several times (like many people) without even seeing it.

Located in the woods beside a Georgia Power building, Nesbit Cemetery is a collection of almost 20 graves surrounded by a low metal fence. There are a mix of grave styles, from the table variety to the box type. Although many of the tombstones are broken or off of their bases, it looks like someone is looking after the place.

This iron gate is the entrance to Nesbit Family Cemetery. It’s worn around the edges but worth seeing.

The contrast of this quiet little cemetery with the frenetic energy on the road behind it is remarkable. Few know it’s there.

William Nesbit’s grave is the oldest (1789-1863) and he has quite a history. A native of South Carolina, Nesbit fought in the war of 1812 and was one of the founding settlers of Gwinnett County. He was its first elected sheriff. Nesbit also served Gwinnett County in the Georgia State Senate for two sessions, first in 1829 and later in 1833. His 650-acre plantation was located near the Gwinnett/DeKalb County line. He and his wife, Mary Lawless Nesbit, had 12 children together. Some are buried near him.

Little Nellie Nesbit only lived for two years but her tombstone still speaks today.

Alvin Craig Nesbit’s grave is broken but still beautiful with the clasped hands motif. He was one of William Nesbit’s 12 children.

Pounds Cemetery

It’s hard to believe anyone would know that Pounds Cemetery is located in an industrial park but someone is taking care of it.

Our next stop was a cemetery neither one of us had visited before. Pounds Cemetery is located down a pine-straw covered drive deep inside an industrial park off Mountain Industrial Boulevard. While only about 25 graves are marked, there are many more unmarked simple fieldstones scattered about to indicate others are buried there.

I don’t know anything about this particular cemetery. Members of the Pounds, Lankford, and Thompson families are represented. But the most stunning of the graves are the trio of unmarked cairn-style graves. Two are in rather sad shape but the third is in better condition.

I am guessing because of the proximity of these two cairn graves that it was a married couple. Their names are unknown.

I am guessing because of the proximity of these two graves that it was a married couple. Their names are unknown.

The identity of the person buried in this cairn grave is also unknown.

The rest of the cemetery is a collection of fieldstones, table-style graves and upright tombstones. You can clearly see warehouses surrounding it. However, it’s not that difficult to picture what it might have been like a hundred years ago before most of the forest around it was cut down.

The fieldstones scattered about the marked graves tells me there are many more people buried here than meets the eye.

Double Springs Church Cemetery

Remember my writing about risking life and limb when I visited Old Greencastle Cemetery in Dayton, Ohio? When we went to Double Springs Church Cemetery in a Smokerise neighborhood, not far from Stone Mountain, it felt like deja vu.

This small cemetery is located behind two houses. Fortunately, there is a public easement between the two that enables visitors to see it without having to ask permission. I am sure most people haven’t due to the uneven terrain and difficulty in keeping one’s footing.

Driving down the neighborhood street, you’d never know there was a cemetery behind this house.

Atlanta’s foremost cemetery hopper, Franklin Garrett, surveyed this cemetery in 1932. His books are invaluable to researchers. In his survey, he noted that a non-denominational church adjoined the cemetery once, but had been torn down many years before.

Only nine marked graves seem to have survived and they are almost all from the Seay family. A number of unmarked stones are scattered about. Most were hidden under the leaves the day we visited. Jennifer knows more about the Seays than I do so I’ll have to pick her brain for more details.

Samantha Seay almost made it to the ripe age of 70. The broken flower motif on her tombstone is touching.

This might give you an idea of the condition the cemetery is in and how difficult it was to walk around in.

Braden Family Cemetery

Our last stop was just down the road at Braden Family Cemetery. It consists of only four marked graves. However, unlike Double Springs Cemetery, this one is on the edge of a very upscale neighborhood and is well tended.

Three box graves contain a mother and two sons. Robert Mansfield Braden, was the husband and father but his grave has not been found.

Four members of the Braden family are buried here. Mother Rhoda is buried between her sons, Minor and Rufus. On the far left end is a monument to Minor’s wife, Mary Jane Milligan Braden. The whereabouts of Robert Mansfield Braden’s grave, the husband of Rhoda and father of the Braden sons, is unknown. Rhoda was born a Lankford, many of whom are buried over in Pounds Cemetery.

The monument for Mary Jane Milligan Braden is damaged but has been repaired.

By the end of our tour, I’d seen parts of Tucker I’d never seen before. But it made me eager to find more of these hidden gems tucked away in the neighborhoods around me. To glimpse the forgotten history of the place I now call home.

Because you never know what’s waiting in your own backyard.

Photo Finish: Pictures That Stay With Me

14 Friday Feb 2014

Posted by adventuresincemeteryhopping in General

≈ 4 Comments

This week, I decided to look through my growing collection of photos and choose some that have caught my imagination but that I have not shared with you yet. Some I know about and others remain a total mystery.

Near the entrance of Westview is a large panoramic sculpture of the Last Supper. It’s quite elaborate and detailed. German-born Fritz Paul Zimmer made Atlanta his home. He operated his own art school and was a professor at Oglethorpe University.

This sculpture of the Last Supper by German artist Fritz Paul Zimmer is eye catching.

I don’t know anything about Walter Andrews (besides the fact he was a big wig in the Elks Lodge). But I really like the art deco style of his monument, from the font of the words to the clean lines. It’s something I don’t see often.

The art deco style isn’t something I often see on a monument but it always makes me stop to look.

I don’t remember whose monument this anchor was on. But I was clearly taken with the detail on it. The authentic look of the rope and the iron makes it look almost real.

The detail in the carving of this anchor is amazing.

The day I took this picture the sky was a vivid white. From the angle I took it, the eyes look pensive and full of thought. It really stands out for me.

The sculpture of St. John the Baptist against the plain white sky gives it a stark, bare look.

I could share a hundred photos from Oakland Cemetery, the grand dame of cemeteries in Atlanta, and still not get to them all. There are just too many interesting images to limit to a blog post.

When I took a tour of Oakland last spring, the guide told us that during the awful tornado of 2008, the monument pictured below sustained damage. The tall spire literally crashed to the ground. But with loving care, it was restored. The angel leaning on his trumpet is beautifully detailed.

This monument at Oakland Cemetery was damaged during the a tornado but has been restored.

An angel leans against his trumpet at the base of the monument.

Last spring, I spent several days photographing Sugar Hill Baptist Church Cemetery up in northern Gwinnett County. This grave is a modern one and I’ve seen a few other examples of it but it still grabs at my heart when I see it.

The image of the weeping angel, face hidden in grief, is stunning.

Joseph “Jody” Paul Domingue wasn’t even 20 when he died. He was on a construction site digging a deep trench that wasn’t properly braced. It collapsed on him and he was killed. The angel crying over his grave seems very fitting for this young man’s short life.

Over the summer, I spent a few days photographing Fellowship Primitive Baptist Church Cemetery in Tucker (near my home). While nosing around in the wooded edge of the property, I found this little plaque.

Cooter the dog was clearly a well loved pet, although I’m not sure his burial was approved beforehand.

I don’t find pet graves in human cemeteries very often. There are a few at Oakland. I think Cooter was probably buried in secret without anyone seeking permission. But even if they had, I don’t think anyone would have said no. Having lived a long life, Cooter was clearly loved.

I’ve seen hundreds of monuments for little children who have died far too young. But the one of six-year-old Mary Ruth Britt sticks with me. The downcast face of the angel, her folded hands. It’s one of the most interesting in the cemetery.

The monument for little ? Britt is memorable.

The monument for little Mary Ruth Britt is memorable.

The symbol of the dove is quite common in grave symbolism. But I still find the differing styles very interesting. This one is at Phillips Cemetery in rural Fayette County.

This broken monument features a dove motif, a symbol of peace.

Lucy Pharr is buried at Decatur Cemetery. Her grave has no dates on it. But the carving of a delicate dove clutching an olive branch in its beak speaks volumes.

Lucy Pharr’s grave has no dates on it.

Military-themed monuments can be many styles. But this one from World War I is unlike any I have seen before or since.

I found this one at Fayetteville City Cemetery. It says "America Over the Top."

I found this one at Fayetteville City Cemetery. It says “Liberty: America Over the Top.”

I see monuments with the image of clasped hands on them a lot. But this one from a church cemetery in North Georgia is especially well done. The detail on the lady’s dress cuff and the gentleman’s sleeve is unique.

I'm not sure why, but of all the "clasped hamds" carving I have seen, this is my favorite.

I’m not sure why, but of all the “clasped hands” carvings I have seen, this is my favorite.

I love visiting cemeteries in other states because I get to observe monument styles and cultural differences that I don’t find in Georgia. This was evident at St. Mary’s Mount Cemetery in Kansas City, Mo. A Catholic cemetery dominated by Italian and Irish families, there’s a lot to look at.

I'd never seen a grave like this with a sort of window box on it before.

I’d never seen a grave like this with a sort of shadow box on it before.

There were a few examples of this temple-shadow box type of headstone at St. Mary’s. I don’t know what the cultural significance of it is. I don’t know if it’s Italian or of Hispanic origin. But it got my attention.

St. Mary’s also has many Italian graves that feature portraits of the deceased. Some of the faces are dour and serious. Others are more lighthearted. But it’s a wonderful way to get a better sense of who the person was. Here are two of an Italian couple.

The woman’s expression is rather enigmatic. Regal, perhaps?

Her husband looks much happier than she does.

Her husband looks happier than she does.

Charleston, frankly, blew me away. There’s enough for a cemetery hopper like me to absorb to last for years. I could visit often and never see it all. Still, there are some other images I want to share. Magnolia Cemetery is especially interesting.

The decaying iron fencing around this family plot is common around Magnolia Cemetery.

As you can see, the intricate wrought iron fencing around this plot is falling to pieces. The elements and lack of care are part of it. Magnolia is a large, old cemetery with not many people to care for it. Or money to restore parts of it.

This rusted gate stands sentry over loved ones from the past.

The detail that was put into this mental work was astounding. It’s sad to know that it’s slowly falling into disrepair, never to be restored.

At Decatur Cemetery here in Atlanta, they did something about a much loved grave whose surrounding iron fence was falling apart. With support from the Friends of Decatur Cemetery, a local blacksmith restored the beautiful iron work.

What could have been lost forever has been restored at Decatur Cemetery. This is the grave of Emily Pittman, who died in 1853 at the age of 21.

I could keep on sharing photos for hours but I’ll end here. I hope you’ve enjoyed this pictorial journey of different monuments, unique styles.

I’ll do it again (with new photos) another time.

The Minister’s Wives: When a Widower Marries His Sister(s)-in-Law

07 Friday Feb 2014

Posted by adventuresincemeteryhopping in General

≈ 3 Comments

A few weeks ago, I visited Decatur City Cemetery for the first time. It is probably one of the oldest cemeteries of its size in Atlanta, even older than Oakland Cemetery.

Decatur Cemetery’s Old Section is well worth a visit on a sunny day.

I stopped by the office to find the location of a few graves and met Wilbur, who was more than happy to help me. He and his co-worker, Demetrius, were a welcome surprise to a hopper like me. The reception I get at cemetery offices is not always friendly. When the computer database didn’t yield what I was looking for, Wilbur went through the old paper card files. Still no luck.

That’s when he got out the old cemetery books from the 1800s. I carefully handled the worn pages, scanning the faded handwritten names and dates from another age. Together, we found the information. After thanking them both, I was on my way. If you are ever looking for a grave, visit Wilbur and Demetrius. They are top notch fellows who will go the extra mile to help you.

The grave of Anne Reynolds, who died in 1827, is one of the oldest at Decatur Cemetery.

It didn’t take long to find the graves. While meandering through what is referred to as the Old Section, I came upon the monument for the family of the Rev. William Henry Clarke. His name was on one side of the base, his wife, Alice, on another, and their teenage son was on another. Rev. Clarke was born in 1804 and died in 1872. I didn’t think much of it until I got home and started digging into his past.

The Three Wives of the Rev. William Clarke

Alice was the second of the three wives of Rev. Clarke. What was especially unusual about Rev. Clarke’s wives is that they were all sisters. He married the oldest sister, Melinda Kirby, on Nov. 21, 1828 in Morgan County. She was 19 at the time. Their son, the Rev. Elijah Henry Clark, served with distinction in the Confederate Army in the Civil War, and was a representative for DeKalb County in the Georgia House of Representatives.

Tintype of the Rev. Elijah Henry Clarke in his Confederate uniform. He was the firstborn son of Rev. William Henry Clarke and his first wife, Melinda.

Tintype of the Rev. Elijah Henry Clarke in his Confederate uniform. He is buried in Wesley Chapel United Methodist Church Cemetery.

After Melinda died on February 23, 1837, Rev. Clarke married the next oldest Kirby sister, Alice, a mere two months later on April 29, 1837. Alice died in August 1863. Rev. Clarke waited a little longer to marry younger sister, Julia Anne Kirby, in March 1865. He died seven years later, but Julia Anne is recorded to have died in 1905.

One of my friends commented that Rev. Clarke must have had a good relationship with his in-laws.

A widower marrying not just one but two of his first wife’s sisters is rare. But one sister-in-law? Not so much. In an era when healthcare was just emerging from the Dark Ages, women died much earlier than they do now, often in childbirth. As a result, a man might be left with several young children and no one to help him care for them.

Lack of sanitary conditions and other factors made childbirth a risky proposition in earlier centuries.

Lack of sanitary conditions and other factors made childbirth a risky proposition for women in earlier centuries.

The 1850 U.S. Census lists Alice and Rev. Clarke as having four children ranging in age from an infant to 14-year-old Elijah. Julia Ann was living with them at the time. Unmarried, she probably helped Alice care for the children and was well acquainted with her brother-in-law.

This is the Clarke family's monument. The son of the Rev. Clark and his wife, Alice, died a few years after his mother.

This is the Clarke family’s monument. Robert, the son of Rev. Clark and Alice, died a few years after his mother.

Today, one might look at such marriages with a raised eyebrow, thinking perhaps some adulterous affair was brewing before the death of the wife. But most of the time, it was a matter of practicality, not romance. A man with several children to look after might turn to the nearest single female he knew he could trust with rearing them and running his household: his sister-in-law.

Whe I first wrote this piece, I assumed that because Rev. Clarke was probably not a wealthy man due to his religious occupation, he might not have been able to pay for childcare. One of his descendants wrote me later to correct me. Rev. Clarke (whose nickname was “Big Henry”) was one of Decatur’s wealthier residents (and owned quite a bit of land) could well afford to hire a nanny for his children. But not every widower had that luxury.

When Alice died, there were still three children under the age of 16 in the house. It was only natural that Rev. Clarke might turn to Julia Anne to take their mother’s place.

The identity of this group is unknown but they represent the typical family of a Victorian-era minister (or vicar in Britain) and his family. If a wife died young, who would care for her children?

The identity of this group is unknown but they represent the typical family of a Victorian-era minister (or vicar in England) and his family. If a wife died young, who would care for her children?

Marrying Your Sister-In-Law

One example of this situation is the case of British author Jane Austen’s younger brother, Charles. In 1814, his first wife, Fanny, died in childbirth. Being a naval officer, he left his surviving three daughters in the care of his wife’s older sister, Harriet, and returned to sea.

Author Jane Austen’s brother, Charles, is pictured with his first wife, Fanny. She died in childbirth.

In 1820, Charles and Harriet married and had three sons and a daughter. Charles’ career in the Navy does not appear to have faltered because of his marriage. He became a rear admiral in 1846, and was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the East India and China Station in 1850. The Austens were married for 32 years, until Charles died in 1852. Harriet died in 1869.

However, England’s Anglican Church was against most of these unions, considering it almost akin to incest. Reformer Felicia Skene’s novel, The Inheritance of Evil; Or, the Consequences of Marrying a Deceased Wife’s Sister (1849) addressed this topic in melodramatic fashion.

Author Felicia Skene was a faithful Anglican and strongly opposed the practice of a widower marrying his sister-in-law.

Author Felicia Skene was a faithful Anglican and opposed the practice of a widower marrying his sister-in-law.

The prohibition against a man marrying his brother’s wife does have religious roots. It comes from an Old Testament text: “If a man shall take his brother’s wife, it is an impurity: he hath uncovered his brother’s nakedness; they shall be childless.” (Leviticus 20:21.) Genesis 2 states that husband and wife “became one flesh,” therefore a wife’s sister was really the husband’s own sister, so he shouldn’t marry her.

The Marriage Act of 1835 made marriages between widows or widowers and their siblings in-law illegal. Any such couple that wished to marry had to go to a country with more flexible marriage laws, such as Italy or Norway. The Act DID legalize all marriages within the prohibited degrees of affinity (i.e. with deceased wife’s sister) that had taken place before August 31, 1835, such as that of Charles Austen. It’s hinted that he and Harriet may have wed in France, indicating that even before the Act was passed, they feared public opinion might go against them.

As far as I know, such a law was not in place in the U.S., so the practice was much more accepted. In fact, it cropped up in my own husband’s family tree. One of Chris’ great-great-grandfathers, after the death of his first wife, married her younger sister.

Annie Musson Newland was the second wife of Abraham Newland, Jr. His first wife was Annie’s sister, Mary Jane. (Photo courtesy of Marcia Farina.)

In 1907, Parliament passed the Deceased Wife’s Sister’s Marriage Act, which repealed the section of the 1835 Marriage Act outlawing these marriages. However, it was still illegal for a man to marry his widowed sister-in-law after the death of his brother. That impediment was removed with passage of the Deceased Brother’s Widow’s Marriage Act of 1921.

Going back to Rev. Clarke, I learned that Julia (although her name is not on the monument) is buried in the family plot with Alice and the Rev. The location of first wife Melinda’s grave remains unknown. I do wonder if the Kirby sisters (as young girls) ever imagined that each one of them would become the wife of a minister one day. Perhaps.

Just not to the same one.

A towering tree provides shade for those resting in peace at Decatur Cemetery.

Adventures in Cemetery Hopping

~ A blog by Traci Rylands

Monthly Archives: February 2014

In Your Own Backyard: Hidden Cemeteries of North DeKalb

Photo Finish: Pictures That Stay With Me

The Minister’s Wives: When a Widower Marries His Sister(s)-in-Law