As we head toward the end of 2025, I’m going to wrap up my series on Saint John’s Cemetery in Pensacola, Fla.

A Tale of Two Gargoyles

Two markers at SJC are topped by gargoyles. Yes, you read that right. Gargoyles.

While I’ve encountered a few cemetery gargoyles before, (the chapel at Evergreen Cemetery in Southgate, Ky. and the Busch mausoleum in St. Louis, Mo.’s Bellefontaine Cemetery come to mind), I haven’t encountered any attached to a specific gravestone until now.

First, let’s take a look at the grave of little George Wills.

George Gadsden Wills, born on July 29, 1904, was the son of George William Wills and his second wife, Sarah Frances Kelly Wills. She was 40 years his junior when they wed and the couple had seven children together.

Little George died only four months after his birth on Nov. 30, 1904. His cause of death is unknown. Another Wills baby would die in 1911. But their four other children would live long lives. George Wills, the father, died in 1923 at age 77. Sarah remarried to John Witherden and had a child, Lorna, with him in 1927. She died in 1953.

So why does little George’s grave have a gargoyle on top of it? I don’t know. I couldn’t find anything about it. My only guess is that perhaps whatever was on top originally broke off and someone replaced it with the gargoyle? That’s all I’ve got.

Let’s move on to Lizzie Henry White Kirkpatrick. Born in Alabama in 1857, Lizzie married John Alexander Kirkpatrick in Birmingham, Ala. in 1873. The couple had seven children together, with two dying in infancy.

Lizzie gave birth to a son, John, on April 27, 1890. She died less than a month later on May 30, 1890 at age 32. Her death may have been related to the birth, but I don’t know for sure. John (her husband) remarried the following year to Lena Brownlee. They had one son, Claude, together. John died in 1928 at age 75. John, Lizzie, and Lena are all buried at SJC.

So who placed the gargoyle atop Lizzie’s grave marker? Again, I don’t know. I’m not aware of any connection between the Wills family and the Kirkpatrick family. If anyone does know, please send me an email to let me know. I’d love to know the story behind the gargoyles.

Pensacola’s Madame Mollie

The original grave marker for Mary C. “Mollie” McCoy was stolen at some point after her death on February 4 1920. It remained unmarked until 2012 when her grave was discovered in a new survey of the cemetery and a new one was placed there.

You might wonder why that happened but her profession (explained by a helpful sign) might have been a reason. I’ve posted it below so you can read her colorful history for yourself.

In short, Mollie went from being a washerwoman to a prostitute in Selma, Ala. sometime during the Civil War. She gave birth to two children, who were sent to live with relatives.

In 1878, Mollie moved to Pensacola and eventually operated her own establishments. Later, when Pensacola had a legal red light district, Mollie shrewdly catered to wealthy customers. In addition to being described as very attractive, Mollie had a head for business. The prostitutes at McCoy’s establishments were widely considered “the prettiest girls you ever saw.”

Mollie died at 76 of natural causes on Feb. 7, 1920 and the news of it was in the local newspapers. Her grave marker at SJC received many male visitors in the coming years, to the consternation of some local women. So her marker was removed until a new one was placed decades later.

It’s believed (as it was back when her first one was placed) that if you touch it, you’ll have a better love life.

Her son, Augustus, is buried to her right. He died in 1915.

Death of a Railroad Man

SJC has a few white bronze (zinc) markers but the largest one is for Wilbern Fallaw. I didn’t know his story until this week because when I would do newspaper searches for him in the past, his name was misspelled in the articles so nothing would come up. Some kind person who was more diligent than I was posted his obituary on Fallaw’s Find a Grave memorial last year.

A native of Alabama, Wilbern was born on April 13, 1868. While visiting a carnival Pensacola, he met and fell in love with local girl Pearl Hendrix. The two were married soon after and returned to Alabama. He soon had to leave her behind to resume his job as a flagman for the Illinois Central Railroad.

Disaster struck when he was injured in a train wreck between New Orleans, La. and McComb, Miss. He survived and was taken to a hospital in New Orleans, but died there on May 16, 1903.

By this time, Pearl likely knew she was pregnant. She gave birth to a daughter, Wilbern Pearl Fallaw, in 1904. Pearl never remarried but raised her daughter with the help of her parents. Pearl died in 1934 at age 57. She is buried beside her husband.

It’s my belief that Wilbern’s monument may have been provided by the Brotherhood of Railroad Trainmen (BRT). The BRT was a labor organization for railroad employees founded in 1883. Originally called the Brotherhood of Railroad Brakemen, its purpose was to negotiate contracts with railroad management and to provide insurance for members. The BRT insignia is on one of the monument’s plates.

Down With His Ship

No Pensacola cemetery series would be complete without the telling of a tale about a sea captain whose ship sank.

Born in 1855, W.H. Allen didn’t leave much of a paper trail about his past. He married Hattie Lonsbury in 1885 in Santa Rosa Beach, Fla.

By 1898, he was a sea captain in charge of the 97-ton tugboat William J. Keyser. In the early hours of Aug. 3, 1898, the tugboat was headed for the Dry Tortugas. It foundered 15 to 20 nautical miles off Point St. Joseph, Fla. Four of the 13 crew were lost, including Capt. Allen. He was 42.

Initially, I thought that Capt. Allen’s body was lost at sea and his marker was a cenotaph. But an Aug. 9, 1898 article in the Pensacola News leads me to believe that’s not the case. It states that Capt. Lyons of the tugboat Nellie went to St. Joseph to bring back the bodies of Capt. Allen and Henry Brown (the cook), in addition to searching for the bodies of the two other victims.

This poem is inscribed on Capt. Allen’s monument:

Steady! O pilot, stand firm at the wheel. Steady! you’ll soon outweather the gale.

O how he flies ‘neath the loud creaking sail, he is homeward bound.

Into the harbor of Heaven, he now glides. Softly he drifts on its bright silver tide.

He is home at last. Glory to God! he will shout at last.

Capt. Allen’s wife, Hattie, outlived him by more than 40 years. She died on Dec. 27, 1946 at age 81.

That’s all from Pensacola, Fla. Next time, I’ll be writing about the Houston County Poor House Cemetery in Dothan, Ala.

I don’t think I’ve ever let two months elapse between blog posts before. But it happened.

My son started college, I did a good bit of traveling, and life…was busy. So I humbly apologize for keeping you all waiting for the next installment.

Last time, I introduced you to Saint John’s Cemetery in Pensacola, Fla. In this post, we’ll visit some more of SJC’s residents.

Babyland

If you’ve ever visited a cemetery that’s on the larger side like SJC, you may notice a section often referred to as “Babyland”. Many modern cemeteries actually label it as such. What it means is that a particular area is dedicated to the burial of infants and young children, always a heartbreaking thing.

SJC has a fenced off area for such graves. They even have a sign explaining it. Some of the graves have detailed markers but those without them (often unknown) are represented by numbers.

One of Babyland’s residents is Kenneth Anthony “Kenny” Hodgson. The son of Kenneth and Mary Hodgson, little Kenny was born on Jan. 20, 1960. He died on April 9, 1961 in a Boston, Mass. hospital. He was only 15 months old.

Florida State University’s Tomahawk Chop

While doing preliminary research before visiting this cemetery, I was surprised to learn that the inventor of Florida State University’s “tomahawk chop” was buried there. I had no idea it was attributed to one person since the chop’s been adopted by a number of sports teams (including the NFL’s Kansas City Chiefs, MLB’s Atlanta Braves, and the English rugby team, the Exeter Chiefs).

The tomahawk chop is a hot button for many. Controversy has been following it for years as many Native Americans have stated that they feel it mocks their culture. Some teams have stopped “officially” using it. FSU officials have said the university’s board does not endorse the action stating, “Some traditions we cannot control…It’s a term we did not choose and officially do not use”.”

In other words, Seminoles fans are still doing it. I can attest to the fact Braves fans are still doing it at baseball games. Since I don’t watch the Kansas City Chiefs or the Exeter Chiefs play, I can’t attest to their current use of the chop.

Which brings me to Wallace S. “Wally” Odom, an FSU alumnus who is said to have invented the tomahawk chop while attending games in the 1980s. I’ve also read that members of the FSU marching band supposedly invented it during the 1980s as well. Which is true? I don’t know. Maybe it’s a bit of both.

What I do know is that Wally was apparently a lively fellow with a great love for his alma mater who enjoyed having a good time with his friends and family. Oddly enough, his obituary doesn’t mention the tomahawk chop at all. He died at age 75 on Jan. 28, 2014.

Gabriel’s Horn

One of the most beautiful monuments in SJC is the one for German-born Johan “John” Michael Pfeiffer and his wife, Kate Biersdorfer Pfeiffer. There are more than 60 Pfeiffers buried at SJC. The monument, made of Westerly granite, features the angel Gabriel holding his horn.

Born in Ermershausen, Germany in 1845, John came to America in 1867 and joined his brother, George, in Pensacola to help operate his grocery business. In 1870, he wed Eva Margaret Hepp and they had one son, Ernest, in 1871. Eva died of yellow fever in 1873 at age 30. John remarried in 1874 to Kunigunda “Kate” Biersdorfer and they had a daughter, Eva, in 1875.

John started his own grocery business and did well. The family was active in the local Lutheran church. John served as acting mayor of Pensacola at one point, and was director of a bank. Son Ernest married Pauline Ibach in 1894 and worked with John in the family business. He and Pauline had several children together, five of whom survived to adulthood.

Sadly, John would die at age 71 only nine days after his grandchild, Maynard, died on Dec. 20, 1906 at seven months old. Ernest, who took over his father’s business, died at age 37 on Aug. 5, 1909. All three are buried at SJC. Ernest’s mother, Eva, is buried to the left of John.

Kate and Eva (who never married) lived with Ernest’s oldest daughter, Ernestine, for a time. Kate died on March 4, 1928 and was buried beside John. Eva died in 1953 at age 78.

The Johnson Family Tragedies

There are times when I see a family plot in which the dates cause me to wonder what happened. Such is the case for the Johnson family.

A native of Sweden, Peter A. Johnson was born in 1859 and emigrated to America in 1879. He married New Yorker Isabella Gates in 1887. They would have four children together: Ruby, Victor, Alice, and Alfred. The family lived in Wisconsin and Minnesota before settling in Pensacola, where Peter worked as a carpenter and later, a wheelwright at a buggy works.

In 1907, Victor was 18. He and his friend, John Delmar, decided to move to Mobile, Ala. and get jobs. They moved into a boarding house. It was there that tragedy struck.

On Dec. 15, 1908, the two friends were in John’s room when he opened his trunk to get some money. His pistol lay in the top tray and he picked it up to unload it. Thinking he had removed all the bullets, he pulled the trigger and to his horror, fired a bullet into Victor’s head. He did not flee and was arrested by police. When informed five hours later that Victor had died, he was devastated.

A coroner’s jury cleared John of any wrongdoing and released him from jail. That was little comfort to his family, who had lost Victor forever.

Isabella died only three years later at age 50 on Sept. 16, 1910. Victor’s younger brother, Alfred, was only nine at the time.

When Alfred was 20, he became sick with what newspapers would call “a lingering illness” and died on June 5, 1922. Peter had now lost two sons and a wife. He clung to his daughters, who had both married. Alice, who married Arthur May, died on Oct 13, 1930 at age 35. She is buried at SJC.

Peter died at age 79 on Nov. 21, 1939. His marker and Isabella’s markers both feature a wheat sheaf and a sickle. This can symbolize the cycle of life, going from resurrection or rebirth (when the seeds are planted) to death, when they are harvested.

I’ve got more to share with you from Saint John’s Cemetery. I promise it won’t be two months before I return.

I’m still in Pensacola, Fla. and it’s still February 2000. But I’m in a different cemetery now!

Saint Michael’s Cemetery(SMC) is about two miles away from Saint John’s Cemetery (SJC), so not far. But the neighborhood in which Saint John’s is located in has a decidedly different feel. I did like the fact that it’s not right beside a busy interstate freeway ramp!

While the neighborhood is more working class, I didn’t feel unsafe when I visited. A mother was walking with her giggling baby in a stroller down the paths for exercise. A boy rode his bike through on his way somewhere, talking on a cellphone. Life going on amid the dead, as it were.

With about 13,000 recorded memorials (SJC’s web site says there are closer to 20,000 people actually buried there) on Find a Grave on 26 acres, SJC is larger than SMC and has about four times the number of burials. SMC consists of eight acres.

SJC is also “younger” in its existence than SMC. So if you were someone of note in Pesacola that wasn’t buried at SMC, it’s highly likely you’re at SJC.

Established by Masons

When SJC was established in 1876 by the Masons of Escambia Lodge, No. 15, F. & A.M., it was because SMC was getting a bit too crowded. Another cemetery was needed. The web page for SJC describes it like this:

Located on a gradually sloping hill, filled with native magnolia, oak, sycamore, and pine trees, the cemetery eventually was plotted to cover some 26 acres within 10 city blocks. Proceeds from plots sold initially went to pay off the mortgage acquired to purchase the land, to cover improvements, and to establish a perpetual endowment. While the trustees were drawn from the Lodge, neither the organization or any member would receive any financial benefit from this endeavor.

Later, in 1908, at its entrance on “G” Street, a gate house [see above photo] was constructed, which consisted of a chapel on one side and offices and storage rooms on the other. A fish fountain was also installed near the gate house. It was the largest cemetery yet constructed for a city that many Masons speculated would grow into needing such place.

After you enter through the archway of the gate house, you’ll find this handsome sign to assist you in locating graves. Funded by a grant, it features prominent graves and their locations, a cemetery map, and the history of SJC. You can also look up grave locations on their web site.

I especially appreciated the “symbol decoder” on SJC’s sign. It describes what many carvings you can find on a grave marker mean, such as the anchor and the clasped hands. This is something I wish more cemeteries provided so visitors can understand what they are seeing better.

Like SMC, there are also several signs indicating various historic/important burials in SJC along with some facts about the place. These little things are always appreciated by this cemetery hopper!

First Burial at SJC

There’s a sign for SJC’s first known burial, which is something always handy to know.

In researching the Frierson family, I came across another case of a man marrying sisters. It truly was common back then, despite the number of raised eyebrows it causes today.

Born in Charleston, S.C. in 1808, George Frierson graduated from South Carolina College (later the University of South Carolina) as a physician. He married Mary Ann Susanna Screven in 1830 and the couple had five children. Three of their sons served in the Confederate Army, one dying at the Battle of Chancellorsville in 1863. Mary Ann died at age 40 in 1844.

In 1846, Dr. Frierson married Mary Ann’s younger sister Martha Eleanor Screven. Two years later, they moved to Louisiana and helped found the town of Frierson. He and Martha had several children together. After living in Honduras for a period, they moved to Pensacola, Fla. where Martha died on Aug. 10, 1876.

Dr. Frierson lived out his final days back in Frierson, La. until he died in 1883 at age 74. He and Martha’s oldest son, William, became a doctor and served as an assistant surgeon in the Confederate Army during the Civil War. Dr. Frierson and his first wife, Mary Ann, are buried together in Evergreen Cemetery in Frierson.

Kursheedt & Bienvenu

Forgive me but I’m going to chase a rabbit now. Come along with me!

There’s another thing that’s special about Martha Frierson’s stone. It is marked with the name of the firm who created it, Kursheedt & Bienvenu, and includes their address. I’d never heard of them before. But I love finding out more about the people who made the stones I find in cemeteries.

It didn’t surprise me that Dr. Frierson purchased Martha’s marker from a New Orleans-based firm because Louisiana was his home for most of his life.

Fortunately, thanks to Emily’s Ford web page (she’s the owner of Oak and Laurel Cemetery Preservation, LLC), I was able to learn more about Edwin Kursheedt.

Born in 1838 in Kingston, Jamaica, Edwin came from a prestigious Jewish family and was raised in New Orleans, La. When the Civil War began, he joined the Confederate Army as a member of the Washington Artillery, where he rose to the rank of colonel (although this might have been an honorary title, a common thing in Southern circles).

After the war, Kursheedt went into business with his father, a stonework merchant since at least 1857. The firm was operated jointly with J.G. Bienvenu, who was also a notary public in New Orleans. 

According to Emily Ford, Kursheedt & Bienvenu were successful in providing not only cemetery stonework and tombs but also hardware, commercial stonework, mantels, grates, and other items. By the 1880s, they owned a large showroom on Camp Street (the street mentioned on Martha’s marker) with marble yard next door at which at least 30 men were employed.  

J.G. Bienvenu left the business after 1888 and Kursheedt operated Kursheedt’s Marble Works until 1901. He died in 1906 and is buried in Dispersed of Judah Cemetery (its congregation was established by his brother, Gershon) in New Orleans, which I visited in April 2025.

Okay, got that rabbit chased down. Back to SJC..

Grand Niece of Pres. George Washington

Another SJC resident who merits a sign is Mary Lewis Willis (1782-1834), the grand niece of U.S. President George Washington. How did she end up in Pensacola?

George Washington had only one sister who lived to adulthood, Elizabeth “Betty” Washington Lewis. Born in 1733, she married Col. Fielding Lewis in 1750. Betty gave birth to Capt. George Lewis in 1857. Capt. Lewis wed Catherine Daingerfield and she gave birth to a daughter, Mary, in 1782 in Millwood, Va.

According to SJC’s web site, Mary Willis Lewis was a socialite who rubbed elbows with the likes of Andrew Jackson at the famous Virginia Jockey Club race track owned by her husband, Col. Byrd Charles Lewis. Lewis was a brickmaker and the couple eventually moved to Pensacola. They would have at least seven children together.

One of their daughters, Catherine Daingerfield Willis (1803-1867), married Frenchman Charles Lewis Archille Murat in 1836 after her first husband died a year after they wed. Because Murat was the nephew of Napoleon Bonaparte, this made her a princess. They settled in Tallahassee, Fla. Murat died in 1847, leaving Catherine a wealthy widow. She died in 1867. The couple is buried in Saint John’s Episcopal Church Cemetery in Tallahassee.

Mary Willis Lewis died of yellow fever on Oct. 7, 1834 at age 52 in Pensacola. She was originally buried in Cantonment Clench Cemetery. The burial ground eventually fell into disrepair after Mary’s husband, Col. Byrd Willis, returned to Virginia in 1836. Mary’s remains were moved to SJC in March 1899 and the stone that marks her grave was placed in 2005 by the Sons and Daughters of the American Revolution, Pensacola Bay Area chapter.

One of Mary’s children is also buried at SJC, Dr. Louis Byrd Willis, who was born in 1801 in Virginia. Dr. Willis received his medical education and after his graduation in 1825, went with his parents to Florida. He practiced medicine in Tallahassee for 10 years, but in 1835 he moved to Pensacola. In the autumn of that same year, he died in a fall from a horse into a swollen stream while crossing. He is buried behind his mother.

I’m guessing his remains were moved when hers were, but his original marker was brought with him. According to his Find a Grave memorial, records indicate that his first name was actually spelled “Lewis”, not “Louis”. The dates of birth and death are also incorrect on the stone. He was born in 1801 and died in 1835.

Next week, I’ll cover more than two graves in my post. I apologize for that. But sometimes setting the scene of a cemetery takes time and when I have the information to do so, I like to share it with you all.

I hope you’ll return for Part II.

Today I’m wrapping up my visit to Pensacola’s St. Michael’s Cemetery (SMC) and if you’ve read this blog for long, you know I call this the “bits and pieces” part of the series. It has no rhyme or reason, it’s just what I found interesting enough to mention that’s left to share.

On a Distant Shore

Finding a grave marker that details the life of the deceased is always a jackpot to me. That’s the case for Pennsylvania-born Midshipman James Biddle Lardner of the U.S. Navy, who died at age 21 on March 8, 1829. His marker, at first glance, is nothing out of the ordinary. The front inscription sticks to the facts.

But if you read the epitaph on the back, you learn about the short life he led. I didn’t see it until some months later while looking at my pictures. This is why I take pictures of just about everything!

At the age of fourteen years he left the shelter of his father’s house and the delights of home for the toilsome and adventurous service of the Navy, participating in the dangers and sharing largely the ills of a sickly climate, he became the victim of disease just at the dawn of honorable usefulness.

This stone is placed as a mark where rests his remains on a distant shore and the last tribute of affection to a much loved brother.

James’ epitaph is far more informative than the brief newspaper item I found in Philadelphia’s U.S. Gazette on April 7, 1829.

I did learn a little about the USS Erie, the three-masted, wooden-hulled sloop-of-war launched in 1813 on which James served. I don’t know if he served on it from the start of his career, which would have been around 1822. The Erie sailed from New York in November 1823 to serve in the Mediterranean until 1826.

From 1827 to 1832, the ship was based at Pensacola, returning north for repairs. The Erie patrolled in the West Indies and off the coast of Mexico, protecting American citizens and property, suppressing the slave trade, and convoying merchantmen.

The author of James’ epitaph attributes the illness that led to his demise as due to the “sickly climate”. It’s hard to know what did him in, as it could have been anything from typhoid to tuberculosis. But his death clearly left a hole in the hearts of his family members, as this marker attests to.

Murder or Suicide?

Then you see a marker like the one for the Fudge sisters that leaves you with more questions than answers. Researching their deaths was quite a journey.

A native of Nashville, Tenn., Elijah Joseph (E.J.) Fudge married Josie Woods in 1904. They had three children together: Tennie, Bascom, and Ethel. At age 36, Josie died on Jan. 23, 1916 in a Nashville hospital. E.J. was now a widower with three little ones to raise.

E.J. and the children moved to Pensacola sometime in April 1916 to live near an aunt. From what I’ve read, life was hard for the Fudge family. E.J. rented a home for them and supposedly sought work with little success. Neighbors later said he was too busy drinking and chasing women to do much work. There was also talk that he was considering taking the children to an orphanage.

The exact facts are cloudy. But on June 27, 1916, E.J. went out that morning with Bascom (now 8) while Tennie (12) and Ethel (7), were left at home. Bascom supposedly went out earlier that morning to sell a horse bit/brace to a neighbor. E.J. was thus alone with his daughters.

Later that day, when father and son returned home, they found the two girls dead. Both had been shot in the chest with a rifle E.J. owned. Three suicide notes, supposedly written by the girls, were found. He believed Tennie had shot Ethel, then turned the gun on herself. The deaths shocked Pensacola residents and made headlines across the state.

E.J. wound up in jail while Bascom was in the care of local officials.

On June 30, the funeral of Tennie and Ethel was held at a local funeral parlor. Hundreds attended to pay their respects and leave flowers, which were later taken to SMC to be placed by the double grave. Several children, some of them former playmates of the children, attended the funeral.

On the same day, E.J. Fudge was charged with murder and eventually faced trial. It was discovered that he had two separate insurance policies for the girls that he had purchased shortly before the move to Florida. The death of his wife, Josie, was rumored to have been a suicide. Her death had netted him insurance money then.

Little Bascom testified that he never believed that the rifle was loaded and he also never saw his sisters handle the weapon. Only their father. He also testified that E.J. had often beaten them and provided little in the way of food.

It was also stated that there was no way Tennie or Ethel could have used the gun to shoot themselves in the chest. Their arms were too short.

E.J. Fudge was convicted of murder in late June 1916. But in March 1918, the conviction was overturned by the Florida Supreme Court for lack of evidence and all charges were dropped. E.J. returned to Nashville with Bascom and remarried. E.J. died of tuberculosis on March 14, 1930 at age 52. Because he was a veteran of the Spanish American War, he was buried at Nashville National Cemetery.

Bascom grew up and married a woman named Hettie. They had four children but later divorced. Bascom died after a heart attack on April 9, 1960. He is buried in Nashville’s Spring Hill Cemetery.

It saddens me that these two little girls met such a violent end and their father was never punished for what I believe was their murder.

Iron and Wood

You’ve seen me post about cast iron grave covers in the past but this is different. These markers for two Swedish sailors are made of cast iron and definitely stand out.

Gunner Andresen and Christian Pharo were both sailors from Sweden who worked aboard the ship Gertrude. Their ages are unknown. However, a yellow fever epidemic (there were many back then) gripped Pensacola in 1867. The two men were brought to a local hospital for treatment and died there sometime in September 1867.

Perhaps their shipmates paid for the markers, we don’t know. They are all that remain of two sailors who died a long way from their native land.

Then you have one of the rarest finds I’ve ever run across in a cemetery. A wood marker that survived almost 100 years! It had to be too good to be true. As I later learned, in a way it was.

Born in Griefswald, Germany in 1883, Wilhelm Voss emigrated to the United States around 1910 to work as a boiler maker. He became a naturalized U.S. citizen in 1916. He registered for the draft during World War I but he did not serve. This is his 1922 passport photo. Records indicate he applied for the passport in order to visit his father, Carl, in Germany. I don’t know if he ever made the trip.

Wilhelm died on March 6, 1926 at age 42. I don’t know his cause of death. I don’t know who provided his wooden marker, which was possibly made of cypress.

After Googling my heart out, I stumbled upon a web site for the University of West Florida Trust, which had a photo of Wilhelm’s original marker. Apparently, it was restored and returned to its original place in SMC at some point. As you can see, it was in danger of falling apart. I have no idea when it happened or how.

After asking some of my taphophile friends, I think it is pretty rare for such markers to remain intact due to the vagaries of Florida’s coastal climate. But thankfully, Wilhelm’s marker shows that efforts can be made to successfully bring them back to life, so to speak.

Last But Not Least

Finally, I’d like to share the grave marker of Tomas Posse De Rioboo. He has one of the oldest graves at SMC and I think it’s lovely.

Born in Galicia, Spain, Tomas married Marianna and Joseph Bonifay’s third child, Josephine Bonifay. In 1815, he was given 400 arpents of land near the headwaters of Carpenter’s Creek/Bayou Texar. That’s the equivalent of about 337 acres. By this point, Tomas and Josephine already had six children ranging in age from 17 to two.

Tomas died on Nov. 27, 1832. We don’t know his age. His marker, originally upright, is signed by Pensacola stone carver Elihu Purvis. It features a weeping willow and a cross. The inscription is in Spanish.

Saying Goodbye

St. Michael’s Cemetery was a hard cemetery to leave. There are many more stones I could have written about. But it was time to head to Pensacola’s other large historical cemetery, Saint John’s Cemetery. Many of the people there are related to folks buried at SMC

I hope you’ll join me there.

Not every cemetery I visit merits a minimum of four posts, but in the case of Saint Michael’s Cemetery in Pensacola, Fla., it’s more than justified. Today I’m featuring three women. They likely never knew each other, I don’t know. But all of them died young in the 1880s.

There are times I come across something written on a grave marker that just makes me come to a complete halt. This happened to me when I wandered into the D’Alemberte/Humphrey family plot at SMC. My photo of it isn’t the best, for which I apologize.

Haunting Words

It’s not to say that the marker for Anne Drysdale “Nannie” Humphreys D’Alemberte isn’t amazing in itself. I stopped because it was so beautifully carved. Her footstone is attached at the bottom, too.

Born in 1854 to Major Frederick C. Humphreys Sr. and Sarah Gates Drysdale Humphreys in Saint Augustine, Fla., Anne Drysdale “Nannie” Humphreys had several siblings. One was her younger sister, Maidee. Although a native of Massachusetts, Major Humphreys was a decorated Confederate veteran.

Nannie married Willoughby Augustus D’Alemberte on June 6, 1878. The bride and groom were both 23. The son of railroad builder William D. D’Alemberte and Emma Louise Walker D’Alemberte, Willoughby had lived in Pensacola since he was 12. He eventually became partner in a drugstore with Dr. H.C. Cushman after learning the trade of druggist from him.

Willoughby and Nannie had two children together, Clinton and Harry. But their happiness was not to last. Nannie died at age 27 on Jan. 4, 1882. I don’t know what her cause of death was, perhaps it was childbirth.

The last line of her marker’s inscription is haunting:

“Would You Miss Me.”

What does it mean? Did Nannie worry that her sons would forget her? Or her husband? It puzzles me to think of why those words are there.

Married Her Sister

Willoughby remarried on May 31, 1883 to Nannie’s younger sister, Maidee Louisa Humphreys. She was 26. Maidee and Willoughby would have several children together: Eddie, James, Sadie, and Willoughby Jr. Sadly, Sadie and Willoughby Jr. died in infancy. They are buried in front of Nannie and her mother-in-law, Emma.

It appears that Nannie and Maidee’s parents were living in the D’Alemberte household up until their deaths. Major Humphreys died of malarial fever in the D’Alemberte home on Oct. 5, 1899 at 76. Sarah Humphyreys died on July 13, 1902. They are both buried in the D’Alemberte/Humphreys plot.

Maidee passed away at age 56 on June 30, 1913. She had been in poor health for a year prior.

Willoughby D’Alemberte did not remarry, dying at age 65 on Jan. 30, 1920. His death notice in the Pensacola News Journal noted that he “died at 3 o’clock Saturday morning at the Pensacola Hospital after several weeks painful illness resulting from the amputation of his right leg.”

He is buried in between Maidee and Nannie.

This brings me back to the words on Nannie’s grave marker: “Would you miss me.” Did she somehow sense that Willoughby might marry Maidee if she died? Such things were fairly common in those days. You might recall I even wrote about a pastor who wed THREE sisters over the course of his life.

Or was it more of a plea from a father to his young sons to remember their mother?

I don’t doubt Willoughby loved Nannie. She’s on his right in the plot and to the left of his own mother, Emma, who died in 1884.

But it does make me wonder.

“The King of Shadows“

The death of the next young wife haunts me, but for different reasons.

Annie Washington Blount, born in Alabama in April 1854, was born to Alexander Clement Blount and Julia Elizabeth Washington Blount. Two brothers, Frederick and James, were doctors, and two others, William and Alexander Jr., were judges.

It may have been William and Alexander’s profession that brought Annie into the acquaintance of Judge Walter Tate. Born in 1834, he was widowed with five children when they married in 1883. The judge’s first wife died in 1880. His oldest son, Sterrett, was only nine years older than Annie.

The couple had a child that died on Jan. 9, 1885. Its gender is unknown. But the memorial for the baby is unlike any I have ever seen.

It was only seven months later on July 7, 1884 that Annie, too, would die. Her cause of death was scarlet fever. She was 31 when she died. She was buried beside her baby.

More than one Pensacola newspaper wrote about Annie’s death. A death notice in The Pensacolian on July 4, 1885 noted:

The king of Shadows, seemingly with an unwarranted right, entered that sanctuary of marital happiness and severed at one fell blow the silken chain that bound heart to heart, soul to soul, and created a void that may be filled only where the night of death is changed into the morning of life.

It’s my belief that the two markers were made at the same time.

Judge Tate did not remarry. He continued on in his work until his death at age 70 in 1904. He was crossing the street in front of the Hotel Escambia in Pensacola when he was struck by a wild horse that was running loose. He died of his injuries two days later on April 19, 1904. He is buried in nearby St. John’s Cemetery with his first wife, Sally.

“A Stranger in a Strange Land”

Our final young lady was from Denmark and lived in Pensacola for less than a year. But her life was cut short during her stay.

Born in Aarhus, Denmark in 1866, Petrea Thiesen had four brothers and one sister. Eldest brother Christen emigrated to America in 1882 and married in 1884. He and his bride, Emilie, were living in Pensacola. After losing two children in infancy, Emilie had just given birth to a son, Jack. They invited Petrea to visit them, perhaps to help in tending to the new baby.

Petrea sailed by herself from Copenhagen on a ship called Geiser, arriving in New York City on Oct. 29, 1886. The voyage would have taken about two weeks. I don’t know if Christen met her there, or if she took a train or ship to Pensacola from there.

I can imagine Pensacola was quite a shock to Petrea, used to the cooler climate of Denmark. But she likely enjoyed getting to know her new sister-in-law and baby nephew, and reuniting with her brother.

“Our Sister”

But tragedy was waiting. Petrea contracted typhoid fever and died a few days later on June 11, 1887 (which happens to be my birthday). She was 21. There is draping across the top of the marker along with a flower wreath with the words “Our Sister”.

On the base of Petrea’s grave marker is this epitaph:

Weep not! Oh, weep not kindred dear, for her whose last remains lie here.

For Jesus she on earth did love, and now she wells with Him above.

I cannot imagine the sorrow her brother Christen felt when he had to contact his parents to tell them their beloved daughter had died. In 1890, when Emilie gave birth to a daughter, she and Christen named her Petrea in his sister’s honor.

I’ve got one more post to go in this series to wrap up the loose ends. I hope you’ll hang on for it.

Yes, we’re still in Pensacola, Fla.! Today I’m going to share a bit about vaults/mausoleums.

Saint Michael’s Cemetery (SMC) is reflective of the geography in which it is situated. Being a coastal cemetery, the depth of the soil and height of the water table is something to be considered. So while it’s not like New Orleans where most interments are above ground in vaults, there is some of that going on at SMC.

In New Orleans, after someone dies, the body is often placed inside a temporary “holding” or “receiving” tomb while a space is being prepared in a permanent vault. After placement in the vault, the body remains for exactly a year and a day before the vault is opened again. In most cases, the body has fully decomposed by this time and only the bones are left.

These bones are then placed in a bag, tagged with the decedent’s name and placed at the bottom of the vault. This makes room for the next person who dies. That’s why you can often see 20 names on a vault that seemingly would only have room for say, four people.

Of course, you may be asking yourself the same question I had. What if the body isn’t fully decomposed yet? I encountered a woman in Greenville, Ala. on my way to New Orleans recently who had encountered this very situation in her family. She told me they waited another few months and by that time, they were able to proceed with the entombment.

The Tarvalan/Pons Vault

Here’s an example of what I THINK is a New Orleans-style vault, having pieced together a few clues. Because of some variation in family names, I couldn’t get a complete picture of exactly how these folks were related to each other.

The next to oldest occupant of the vault is an A.F. Tarvalan, born in New Orleans around 1820 and died in Pensacola on Aug. 30, 1895. I believe this may be Adolph Francois Tervalan (note the spelling variation), and that he may have been black or of mixed race parentage. He was married to Louise Mandas Tarvalan (I’ve seen her last name as Mendez, too). She was also born in New Orleans and died in Pensacola on Aug. 22, 1892.

But the first name at the top is Lydia Deffilo, daughter of T.A. and Hortense Pons. Lydia died on April 2, 1910 at the age of 20. I believe Hortense was A.F. Tarvalan’s sister and that Lydia was his niece. The last name at the bottom is Theo Pons, born in 1870 and died on Feb. 2, 1919. This may be the “T.A. Pons” who was Lydia Deffilo’s father.

Could you get five complete bodies in this small vault? I don’t think so. Being that several of this vault’s occupants were born in New Orleans, I believe they followed the method I’ve mentioned of bagging the bones after a year and a day so more occupants can be interred within.

Family Tomb of E.T. Dunn

Then we have the E.T. Dunn family tomb (you can barely make out the words above the door), which is much more like what I’m used to seeing. A bonus is that it is open (with a gate) so you can see who is interred within. Each body is entombed within its own niche in the walls.

Born in Vermont in 1840, Edward “Ned” Thomas Dunn married Mary Frances Connolly in 1863 in Quebec, Canada. By 1870, the couple had moved to Pensacola and started a family. Eventually, they would have several children together.

Known as Capt. Dunn, Ned worked as a stevedore. That’s another term for a dockworker that usually loaded and unloaded cargo from ships.

Mary died on Nov. 9, 1895 at age 49. She may have been the first interment in the family tomb. The facing of her space looks like it was damaged at some point.

Ned remarried on Aug. 17, 1896 to widow Ada Quigly. She was 41, he was 47. Her husband, John, had died of consumption in 1893. Ned died at age 64 on Dec. 22, 1904. No cause of death was listed in his obituary.

Sadly, Ada Quigley Dunn died a horrible death. Living in a Pensacola boarding house, Ada accidentally knocked over an oil stove that exploded and her clothes caught on fire. She died from her burns on Dec. 23, 1915. She is buried with her first husband, John Quigley, at SMC.

Son of a Sailor

Born in 1872, one of Ned and Mary Dunn’s sons was Capt. Frank Mark Dunn. Like his father, he spent his life working on and around ships. Known as a “bar pilot”, he gained a stellar reputation steering ships through difficult waters and was well thought of around Pensacola.

His obituary noted: “The deceased had been commander of the dredge Caucus since that vessel was constructed and placed in commission. Prior to that he was a bar pilot, and during the Spanish-American war commanded the dispatch boat Summers N. Smith, then owned by the pilots.”

Frank married Laura Marsh in 1902 and they had several children together. When Frank died on Jan. 15, 1911, his youngest child (Frank) was only a few weeks old. Frank, only 39, died suddenly of “paralysis of the bowels”. Laura did not remarry and died in 1954 in California.

Little Frank grew up and served in World War II. He eventually moved to Oregon in the 1950s where he spent the rest of his life, owning a steam cleaning business. When he died on June 1, 1995 at age 84, he was cremated and his remains were interred in the Dunn tomb at SMC.

“Our Children”

On the lowest level on the left side, the facing of one of the plates has the words “Our children” written on it with several names inscribed. I’m not exactly sure whose children they are but I have a guess.

I could only trace two of the names via Ancestry. They were Edward T. Dunn, who is listed as a child born to Edward T. and Mary Dunn in Quebec, Canada on May 23, 1868 and died on Nov. 9, 1869 in the same city. Augustine Webb Dunn was born on March 10, 1885 and died sometime in 1886 in Pensacola.

Are the remains of all these children contained within? I don’t think so. I believe it’s more of a memorial to them.

One last little thing I wanted to mention is that the gate on this tomb got my attention.

I looked it up back in 2020 and could find absolutely nothing about the Industrial Architectural Works of Cincinnati. The same thing happened this week. Cincinnati is also home to Stewart Iron Works, which is still going strong today. I’m hopeful I can find out more about this firm eventually.

Love Story of Bartolo and Carmelitta Borras

I’ve got another small vault for you that contains two people, and I think it is traditional in nature. When I saw that the husband was from Spain, I felt compelled to share it because so many residents of Pensacola were Spanish immigrants in the early days.

It’s always great when you find that someone else has done all the research for you. The folks who manage the Facebook page for SMC posted this in 2019.

Bartolome Borras was born in Spain in either 1808 or 1815 (records differ). Nevertheless, he was living in Pensacola by at least 1850. In 1856 he bought what is now called the Julee Cottage (located in the Historic Pensacola Village today), where he lived with his Creole family.

After he bought the cottage he was charged with living with and being in a relationship with a “mulatto” (a person with both African and European ancestry) female named Carmelitta Ann Mingaro. During this time, “free people of color” faced increased racial discrimination from laws passed by the state meant to restrict interracial relationships.

Despite these racist laws, in 1860 he was living with Carmelitta and several of their children. Carmelita died in 1864 at the age of 33 and was buried in St. Michael’s Cemetery. Bartolome continued to live in the cottage with his children for the next several decades where he was listed as a merchant and grocer.

While we don’t know if he was ever officially married to Carmelitta, there is no doubt about his commitment to her both in life and in death. When Bartolome died in 1894, he was buried in St. Michael’s with her. This was 30 years after Carmelita passed away.

There’s still a great deal to see at Saint Michael’s Cemetery. Part IV is coming soon.

Last week, I introduced you to Saint Michael’s Cemetery (SMC) in Pensacola, Fla. Now let’s delve into more about some of the people buried there.

The Woman Behind the Man

Had there not been a sign next to her grave, I might have walked on by Dorothy Camber Walton’s humble box grave.

Born in 1760 in Georgia, Dorothy Camber had British parents of means. She caught the eye of attorney and Georgia congressman George Walton. On July 2, 1776, he voted in favor of the Declaration of Independence for Georgia, along with Button Gwinnett and Lyman Hall. The couple wed in 1778.

On Jan. 9, 1778, Walton received a commission as colonel of the First Georgia Militia. Despite being wounded and taken prisoner, he was released in late 1779. Soon after, Walton was elected governor of Georgia for the first time, a position he held for only two months.

Dorothy got caught up in the turmoil as well during her husband’s capture. George used his connections to have her sent to sea, arriving at the port of Charles Town. Her ship was captured by a British frigate and sent instead to the West Indies. Dorothy was eventually exchanged for two British colonels and sent back to join her family, according to the book “The Walton House” by Leora M. Sutton.

During the 1780s, Walton devoted himself almost exclusively to Georgia state politics. He served as chief justice and negotiated a treaty with the Cherokee. Walton was elected to a second term as governor in 1789 and served for one year.

During his term, Georgians adopted the new Georgia Constitution, moved the capital to Augusta, and concentrated on settling the western frontier. After his tenure as governor, Walton served as a judge of the superior court from 1790 to his death. He also filled the unexpired term of James Jackson in the U.S. Senate in 1795 to 1796.

During the last years of his life, George suffered from continued attacks of gout. He died on Feb. 2, 1804 in Augusta at age 62. He was initially buried at Rosney, home of his nephew Robert Watkins. He was re-interred in 1848 beneath the Signers Monument in front of the courthouse on Greene Street in Augusta.

George and Dorothy had two sons, Thomas (1782-1803) and George Jr. (1787-1863). George Jr. was a graduate of Princeton and served several terms in the Georgia General Assembly. He was practicing law in Augusta in 1821 when his wife’s uncle, senator Freeman Walker, recommended to Georgia’s secretary of state that George Jr. be appointed secretary of the West Florida Territory.

George Jr. received his commission from President James Monroe on June 27, 1821 and served under Gen. Andrew Jackson, the appointed commissioner to receive the Floridas from Spain, and to serve as acting governor of east and west Florida until a civil government could be established. He and his family moved to Pensacola, Fla. and Dorothy accompanied them.

After a long illness, Dorothy died in Pensacola on Sept. 12, 1832 at age 71. George Jr., who moved to Mobile, Ala. in 1835 with his family, later became mayor of that city. He died on Jan. 3, 1863 and is buried in Blandford Cemetery in Virginia. So Dorothy remains alone at SMC.

The Kelly Family Plot

Unlike Dorothy Walton, the Kelly family has no signs. But their three monuments indicate they had money and I found myself drawn to them.

Let’s start on the far right with Hanson Kelly, who was possibly married more than once. Shortly after arriving in Pensacola, Hanson became the Pensacola port master and got involved in the timber trade. He also served as the city’s mayor in 1847.

Hanson and Susan Kelly’s oldest son, William, was a lawyer, judge, soldier, and statesman. I suspect it may have been his wealth that provided these handsome markers.

Hanson Kelly died at the age of 81 on May 11, 1855. According to the Pensacola Gazette:

We are called upon to chronicle the death of Mr. HANSON KELLY, one of our oldest and most esteemed citizens. He died at 12 past 11 o’clock A. M., after a lingering sickness, during which he manifested great patience and fortitude. Mr. Kelly has been identified with our community for a long time, maning faithfully and creditably posts of honor and usefulness. His amiable spirit–unobtrusive modesty, strict integrity and generosity have won for him an enviable reputation; and his loss is no unimportant one to our city. He was a native of North Carolina–about 80 years of age, and leaves a large family.

Hanson and Susan Kelly share a monument. I believe it had been cleaned shortly before I saw it. That made reading the epitaphs much easier.

There are two epitaphs at the bottom. The first comes from Psalm 90:10. The second one, which is better known, comes from Psalms 23:4.

Susan Kelly died a few weeks later on June 25, 1855 at age 72 (according to the monument).

In the center is the grave for Mary Kelly, Hanson and Susan’s daughter. We don’t know her exact date of birth. Because she died in the 1840s, census records are of little help because women were rarely mentioned by name.

I especially like the two inverted torches with flames on each side. This often symbolizes the eternal flame of the soul.

Mary Jane died on Sept. 1, 1844 in Cincinnati, Ohio of consumption (tuberculosis) and her remains were brought back to Pensacola for burial. Perhaps she was attending a boarding school at the time of her death.

Mary Jane’s epitaph is small but powerful.

I noted a signature on the base of her marker that indicates the firm of John Struthers & Son of Philadelphia, Pa. provided it. I was not familiar with them but the carving is beautiful.

A native of Scotland, Struthers came to America in 1816. He was the marble mason for Strickland’s Second Bank of the United States and the Philadelphia Exchange. He also worked as a mason on St. Stephens Episcopal Church, the steeple of Independence Hall, as well as the U.S. Naval Home and the New Almshouse.

It’s rare that I can share a photo of the person attributed with a firm that carved a specific marker but here he is.

So what does this tell us? I think Mary Jane’s family thought a great deal of her and were more than willing to spend a lot of money to express that.

To the left of Mary Jane’s monument is one for Sarah Eugenia Van Braun. Even less is known about her beyond the fact she died on Dec. 15, 1836.

Her epitaph reads:

Calm on the bosom of thy God/Fair Spirit! rest thee how!

E’en while with us they footsteps trod/His seal was on they brow.

Dust to its narrow home beneath/Soul to its home on high.

They that have seen they look in death/No more may fear to die.

These words come from a hymn called “Calm on the Bosom of Thy God” by British poet Felicia Brown Hamans (1795-1835). Married to a sea captain, Hamans was quite popular in her day for her writings.

But who was Sarah Eugenia Van Braun? I did a little digging and discovered that a Sarah Kelly married Blidon Van Braun on May 11, 1833 in Escambia County, Fla. where Pensacola is located. So she was likely one of the daughters of Hanson and Susan Kelly.

On the 1850 U.S. Census, a Blidon Van Buren is shown to be living in the Hanson Kelly household in Pensacola and working as a clerk. It notes he was born in Pennsylvania. Is it possible he had Philadelphia connections to assist in attaining Mary Kelly’s marker? We don’t know.

“Thou Art Gone to Rest”

The Abercrombie family plot left me with some questions. It’s quite large with a handsome fence but is covered in concrete with only two markers on top. The one you notice from the start is the small one for Evalina “Evie” Abercrombie. It’s a heartbreaker for sure.

Evie was the daughter of Alabama-born lumber manufacturer James Abercrombie, Jr. Born in 1819, James was the son of James Abercrombie, Sr., who had a distinguished political career as an Alabama congressman. James Jr. married a cousin, Sarah “Sallie” Abercrombie, on March 27, 1840. After living in Alabama, they moved to Florida in the 1850s. James managed his family’s brick making business in Pensacola, which supplied the U.S. government with bricks for its forts.

Over the course of their marriage, I believe James and Sallie had eight children. Evie was next to last, born on Jan. 18, 1859.

Evie died on Oct. 18, 1860 in Pensacola. Her father had just been elected a Florida senator 10 days before and served for five years. Sallie gave birth to their last child, Lula, on Aug. 2, 1866.

The epitaph on Evie’s grave reads:

Thou art gone to rest in a lonely bed
Sweet form of my precious child
In the silent grave rest thy little head
And hushed by cries so mild
And at Jesus feet thou dost worship now
with a lovely infant throng
and soft music swells from thy little harp
and sweet is thy lisping song.

James Abercrombie Jr. died on Jan. 3, 1871 at age 51. I don’t know his cause of death.

According to the 1880 U.S. Census, Sallie was living in Pensacola with her three adult sons and Lula, who was 13. Daughters Bella and Lizzie had both married. Sallie died in 1882, the exact date is unknown. I found no funeral notice for her anywhere.

I don’t know why there are no individual markers for James, Sarah, or their sons. William, 33, died on Jan. 19, 1883 of pneumonia. John, 28, died of “hematuria” (which basically means blood in the urine) on Dec. 6, 1884. James “Jessie” Abercrombie, who died in 1924, was Pensacola’s harbormaster for many years and his obituary noted that he was to be buried at SMC.

Perhaps after Sallie, John, and William died (only a year apart), the remaining siblings couldn’t make a decision on how to mark their graves. Or perhaps they did have markers and they were damaged. It leaves me very curious.

Lula, who married Brigadier General William S. Pierce, died at age 63 in 1929. She is buried nearby at St. John’s Cemetery (which I will right about next). Her husband died in 1923 and is buried in Vermont, so she is alone. Her sisters, Bella and Lizzie, are both buried with their husbands in SMC.

I’ll be back soon with Part III.

When I look back at my visit to Florida in February 2020, I have mixed emotions. While I didn’t know it then, it would be the last time I visited Blue Mountain Beach with my best friend. She ended our friendship for reasons I still don’t understand a year and a half later. I miss her a lot.

Second, the “hop” I took in two Pensacola cemeteries then would be the last before the Covid-19 pandemic took hold. It didn’t keep me out of the cemetery but things did change.

A few weeks later, I was sitting in my car waiting for my son to get out of school when I listened to a news report about this strange new illness. I had just booked a bed and breakfast in New Orleans for spring break and was wondering if I was going to have to cancel.

I wouldn’t make it to New Orleans for another three years.

At the same time, I’m very glad I did make it to Pensacola! Although it was a two-hour drive one way from Blue Mountain Beach through construction traffic, to me it was well worth the effort. In addition, cemetery hopping in NW Florida in February means a comfortable temperature!

St. Michael’s Cemetery (SMC) is wedged in next to Interstate 110 and the roar of cars going by is ever present. But as you walk amid the graves, you can step back a few hundred years as you read the markers. Today, primary stewardship for the cemetery is provided by St. Michael’s Cemetery Foundation of Pensacola, Inc., a nonprofit.

The history of SMC alone makes it a stand out, but the fact that it’s documented so well by interpretive signs throughout makes it even better. Quite an effort has been made to help visitors learn more about Pensacola’s rich history and the people that helped create it.

SMC’s self-guided walking tour is documented with this helpful map. It certainly helped me find some of the more notable graves.

The City of Five Flags

Pensacola is often referred to as the City of Five Flags due to the five governments that have ruled it during its history: Spain (Castile), France, Great Britain, the United States, and the Confederate States of America. So when you glance at the names on the grave markers at SMC, that heritage is reflected in them.

Pensacola was the first multi-year European settlement in the continental United States, established at by conquistador Don Tristán de Luna y Arellano in 1559. Two years later, in 1561, the settlement and its fleet were destroyed by a hurricane and the site was abandoned. Pensacola was permanently reestablished by the Spanish in 1698 and became the largest city in Florida, and the capital of the colony of West Florida.

Since Pensacola was destroyed and abandoned only two years after it was first founded, many people regard St. Augustine, Fla. as the first permanent European settlement in what would become the United States. The City of Pensacola, however, still occasionally refers to the area as “America’s First Settlement” in advertisements, signs, and travel brochures.

The city and its bay were named after the Panzacola Indians, a tribe that lived near the bay when the Spanish arrived. They spoke a Muskogean language. The name was changed to Pensacola to make it easier to pronounce. Later, both the French and the British would wrest it away but the Spanish had three different periods of possession until 1821. It was later under Confederate control during the Civil War until 1865.

St. Michael’s Cemetery Established

According to the cemetery web site:

Historical research and early maps indicate that the land in and around the modern cemetery was in use as a burying ground beginning in the mid to late 18th century. The earliest surviving above ground markers in St. Michael’s Cemetery, however, are associated with Pensacola’s Second Spanish Period (1781-1821).

Pensacola drew immigrants from around the world. There are approximately 3,200 marked graves in the cemetery, and with subsurface anomalies, possibly several thousand unmarked graves. Tombstones in the cemetery reflect not only status and ethnicity of individuals but also reflect society as a whole on the Florida Gulf Coast frontier.

Looking on Find a Grave, I see that the oldest marked grave is for George Oseola Commyns, an infant who died on May 2, 1812. We only know this due to a 1938 book of transcriptions of the cemetery, the inscription on George’s grave is now impossible to read.

The Sullivan Brothers

The largest monument at SMC is for Irishman Daniel Francis Sullivan (1833-1884). The plot is surrounded by a well-maintained fence. Daniel is the only occupant as far as I know. Perhaps plans were originally for his wife and daughters (along with their spouses) to be buried with him later.

Born in Ireland in 1833, Daniel moved to Pensacola with his younger brother Martin when they were young. He married Alabaman Emily S. Cropp in 1868. The brothers were very successful in the lumber business, purchasing several mills and wharves on Pensacola Bay, and large areas of timber in other parts of Escambia County. Later, Daniel was president of Pensacola’s First National Bank.

The town of Century was founded around the lumber industry the Sullivan brothers brought to the area. A colorful personality, Daniel also built the Pensacola Opera House that opened in 1883. Two hurricanes in 1916 and another the next year caused so much damage that it was demolished in 1917.

According to a 2019 article in the Pensacola News Journal:

Sullivan’s life was like Horatio Alger, for he had begun with a modest career, then extended into insurance investing and beyond the lumber industry itself. There, by the 1880s, he had become a millionaire, a true first for that time and within Pensacola itself. Observers of those years labeled Sullivan as flamboyant, perhaps because he set a standard in bringing “the unusual” to the community. With capital to invest, Sullivan focused his eyes upon the arts, then in 1883 he began establishment of the Pensacola Opera House.

Daniel and Emily had two daughters, Mary and Katie. His lumber business, operated with his brother, was thriving and his wealth increased by the year.

So it came as a shock when on the morning of June 14, 1884 that (according to his obituary) Daniel Sullivan was found “dead in his bed”. His family and the community were shocked. He was only 50 years old.

I don’t know how long Emily and her daughters remained in Pensacola. But by 1910, census records show they were all living comfortably in the same Manhattan household in New York City. Katie married promoter Malcolm Anderson and had three children, while Mary remained unwed.

When Emily died in 1919, she was buried in River Bend Cemetery in Westerly, R.I. Mary and Katie are buried in the same cemetery.

Daniel’s brother Martin continued with the lumber and banking business in the years that followed. He and his wife, Kate, had five children together. Martin, who had recently traveled back to Ireland, felt his health beginning to decline in 1911. He traveled to Baltimore, Md. for medical treatment in the fall of that year. He died on Oct. 15, 1911 at age 73. Katie made it to his side only a few hours before his death, one article said.

Martin is also interred in SMC, but not in the Sullivan plot. He and his family have their own handsome mausoleum.

Tragedy was not done with the Sullivan family. Son Charles Russell, 25, died in Colorado Springs, Colo. only a month later on Nov. 16, 1911. A cashier in his father’s bank, he had traveled west in hopes of improving his health.

Daughter Marie Sullivan Read, only 37, died during or after giving birth on Jan. 1, 1912. Her infant daughter, Marie Ellen, died the next day.

Martin, Russell, Marie, and the baby were the first four interments in the mausoleum. Katie died at age 86 in 1937. She is interred in the mausoleum along with the other adult children (Julia, Martin, and John).

There’s so much more I have to show you at St. Michael’s Cemetery. Part II is coming soon.

In Part I, I shared the story of the angel at Hendersonville, N.C.’s Oakdale Cemetery that is said to have inspired Thomas Wolfe when he wrote his 1929 novel, Look Homeward, Angel.

This week, I’m going to feature what I’m simply going to call…random funky stuff at the cemetery. Every cemetery is a little different. Oakdale stood out to me not only due to Wolfe’s angel but for the many above ground vaults/tombs sprinkled throughout the cemetery.

Brick Tombs Aplenty

Last time, I showed you some large vaults from Oakdale Cemetery. Now I’m going to share some of the individual brick ones. My guess is that at some point in the 1940s to 1960s, a local brick mason was making these. Perhaps they might have also been more affordable than the ones being manufactured at that time.

Lloyd Laughter has a stone marker placed atop his brick vault. It has a stone slab over the top. He died on July 28, 1954 at age 51 after a long illness. It makes sense in a way that he has a vault like this because his obituary mentions he was both a stone mason and a builder. His wife, Martha, died 24 years later at age 70 in 1980. You can see her marker to the left of his vault in the photo above.

Unlike the Laughters, the Moodys are buried in one double brick vault, topped by a stone slab. They have individual bronze plaques with their names/dates on the front.

Lua Mae Garren Moody, 67, died on Dec. 19, 1950. Her husband, Ralph Leonard Moody, a retired railroad worker, died on Nov. 4, 1962 at age 75. Ralph remarried to Inez Brooks but she is not buried at Oakdale Cemetery.

Helen Saleeby’s vault is made of brick and has a handsome bronze plaque on one end. It does not have a stone slab on top like the others I’ve mentioned.

Helen “Hallie” Kershaw Saleeby was a native of Beirut, Lebanon but emigrated to America in 1910. She married Saloom Saleeby, who was also a native of Lebanon. Sadly, Saloom was shot and killed during a robbery at the gas station he operated in Salisbury, N.C. in 1940. He was 69 when he died. Hallie died on March 13, 1968 at age 82.

The vault of Dixie E. Whiteside is a little different because the bricks are a white/gray and the top has a curved, arch-like shape to it. She has a bronze plaque with her name/dates on the front. She died on Oct. 31, 1965 at age 40.

Ann Osteen Waters has a similarly shaped brick vault but hers is made of the traditional red bricks and is not as tall. She died at age 42 on May 12, 1965.

Roll Out the Barrel (Vaults)

Oakdale Cemetery also has a number of what I call “barrel” vaults because they look like a barrel sticking halfway out of ground. The body is not above ground but is buried underground. The two I’ve featured here are from t he 1930s.

This one for Ulysses Grant Alredge (1872-1937) is typical of the ones I see. I noted seven men named Ulysses buried at Oakdale Cemetery. But only this one was Ulysses Grant, not exactly a popular name in North Carolina after the Civil War!

Born in 1872 in Polk County, N.C., Alredge did not go by “Ulysses” but “Grant” instead. During his last 10 years, he was the election registrar for the South Blue Ridge precinct. He died on May 5, 1937 after an illness of two years.

The barrel vault for Lillie Louise Forest Garren (1880-1934) is very similar to that of Ulysses G. Alredge. But hers appears to have two small vent holes on one side of it.

Born in 1880 to John P. Forest and Louisa Caroline Forest, Lillie married William Absalom Garren. He was a police officer who served in many roles from constable to deputy sheriff to police chief in Henderson County.

Lillie died on March 5, 1934 at age 53. She is buried to the right of her son, Willie, who died as an infant on Oct. 21, 1902.

“Of Such is the Kingdom of Heaven”

The monument for William Stuart Gover caught my eye because of the lovely ivy entwining the column carved into it.

Born in 1893 in Kentucky to stock trader Bowen Goggins Gover, Jr. and Annie Singleton Gover, William was one of their three children. He had battled with tuberculosis since the age of five (according to his death certificate). According to his obituary, he was known and liked by many in Hendersonville. He died of heart failure at age 17 on May 17, 1911.

William is buried between his mother and his sister, Gladys Gover Egerton.

A Transplanted Scotsman

The detail of the carving on the monument to Thomas Anderson and his wife, Annie Laing Anderson, I worth sharing. I wonder if it was from the Asheville monument shop operated by Thomas Wolfe’s father.

Born in Crossgatehall, Scotland in 1836, Thomas married Annie Laing in Wentworth, Canada in 1867. The couple had two daughters, Maggie and Bessie.

According to the 1880 Census, they were living in Spartanburg, S.C. where Thomas worked as a railroad engineer. Thomas’ brother, James, a railroad superintendent, and his nephew, William, an engineer, lived with the family .

The Andersons were living in Hendersonville at the time of Thomas’ death on May 18, 1887. He was 50. I don’t know his cause of death.

Annie lived with daughter Maggie (she never married) for the remainder of her life. Annie died on Dec. 21, 1921. Maggie died on Feb. 28, 1944. Bessie, who married the Rev. Montraville Walker Egerton in 1893, died on Nov. 30, 1941. Both daughters are buried at Oakdale Cemetery.

The draped urn at the top of the Anderson monument features flowers and an eternal flame. I think this one is particularly well executed by whoever carved it.

Then there are the flowers that adorn the top of each side of the monument. Again, I think these were done by someone with admirable carving skills.

My traveling companions were ready to get going so we left Oakdale Cemetery. Lisa and I found a nice winery not too far from our cabin and enjoyed some freshly made sangria.

Next time, I’ll take you with me to visit St. Michael’s Cemetery in Pensacola, Fla.

Leaving Fayette County behind, I went on a weekend getaway to the Carolinas with a few of my friends. We stayed at Table Rock State Park. Naturally, my friends Sarah, Beverly, and Lisa knew I’d want to visit a cemetery and were game. I already had a specific one in mind.

Oakdale Cemetery is located in Hendersonville, N.C. and covers about 22 acres. I found conflicting information on how many burials are there. The 2013 application seeking to put Oakdale on the National Register of Historic Places (NRHP) noted there are about 5,400 buried here. But Find a Grave has over 8,000 memorials recorded.

Established in 1885, Oakdale had a section for whites and a section for blacks. Acreage was added in 1913 and 1943. Some grave markers were moved to Oakdale Cemetery from other cemeteries. Some from Hendersonville’s Methodist Episcopal Church were moved in 1923 (now First United Methodist Church) and First Presbyterian Church (1955) when they built new church buildings in the areas where their cemeteries were located. So that explains why you’ll see graves that pre-date the 1885 establishment date of Oakdale.

There are also some intriguing vaults at this cemetery. This brick one for the Staton family was built in the 1940s.

Then there is this large rectangular-shaped, classical style concrete block structure built in 1951 near the 1943 section’s southwest corner to house burial vaults.

But what most people want to see when they visit Oakdale is the angel that inspired an author in writing a bestselling novel that is still read by many today.

Thomas Wolfe’s Inspiring Angel

This particular area of Western North Carolina is notable for two authors that called it home. The best known is Carl Sandburg, who was a poet and an author. He won three Pulitzer Prizes: two for his poetry and one for his biography of Abraham Lincoln. Sandburg was widely regarded as a major figure in contemporary literature, especially for volumes of his collected verse, including Chicago Poems (1916), Cornhuskers (1918), and Smoke and Steel (1920).

The second is Thomas Wolfe (1900-1938), who was born in Asheville, N.C. Wolfe wrote four novels as well as many short stories, dramatic works, and novellas. His best known novel, Look Homeward Angel, was published in 1929 right before the stock market crash. Set in the fictional town of Altamont, Wolfe’s coming-of-age novel is closely based on his family, neighbors, and upbringing in Asheville.

Wolfe’s father, William Oliver Wolfe, was a stone carver and operated a successful grave stone business in Asheville. Although an accomplished artisan, Wolfe did not have the skill to carve an angel’s face. The stone angel that inspired the novel’s angel was actually carved in Carrara, Italy and ordered from New York. His business used an angel in the window to attract customers.

Thomas Wolfe described the angel in great detail in a short story and in Look Homeward, Angel. While there was controversy over which one was the actual angel, the location of the Thomas Wolfe angel was determined in 1949 to be at Oakdale Cemetery.

The title of Wolfe’s book comes from John Milton’s Poem “Lycidas”:

Look homeward Angel now, and melt with ruth:
And, O ye Dolphins, waft the hapless youth.

Although records indicate that Wolfe sold at least a dozen Italian marble angels as grave markers, the angel in Oakdale Cemetery most closely matches the description in the novel.

W.O. Wolfe sold the angel to the Johnson family in 1906. It marks the grave of Margaret Bates Johnson, wife of Dr. Henry Johnson. Dr. Johnson was president of Whitworth Female College in Brookhaven, Miss. Although Margaret died on May 26, 1905, in Brookhaven, she was reinterred in the Oakdale Cemetery since Hendersonville was her hometown. Dr. Johnson is buried beside her.

Wolfe was diagnosed with tuberculosis not long before he died at age 38 on Sept. 15, 1938. He is buried in Asheville’s Riverside Cemetery, which I visited in 2023. So you’ll get to see his grave here eventually.

Sadly, Wolfe’s fans visiting the grave caused damage to the statue that required repair. A wrought iron fence now encloses the Johnson graves to keep them safe from further harm. So I couldn’t get too close to her. But I was able to photograph her through the bars. If you find yourself in the Hendersonville area, it’s well worth the time to visit the angel.

Tragic Train Accident

One of Oakdale’s most heartbreaking monument is for Lewis Littleberry Tunstall. His tree-shaped monument has a train engine and coal car carved into it below his name and birth/death dates.

Lewis was the engineer on a railroad engine that pulled a train from Hendersonville to Spartanburg, S.C., when the train’s brakes failed and it jumped the tracks. It then slammed into a large chestnut oak tree. The impact killed Tunstall immediately. The cause of this accident was the lack of safety switches on the Saluda Grade. After this tragedy, the railroad built safety switches between Saluda and Melrose to prevent further accidents. So Lewis’ death was no in vain, but actually saved future lives.

Masonic and Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineer (see the interlocking B and E) markings can be seen on the “tree,” along with a skillful carving of a locomotive engine and coal car. It’s possible that the Brotherhood paid for his marker.

Lewis, who was only 32 when he died, left behind a wife and daughter.

Gentlewoman, Philosopher, Author, Composer, and Artiste

I’m going to close Part I by including a grave stone I found for Henrietta Natalie “Hennie” Whitted Price. I had no idea who she was and I’m guessing you don’t either. But it appears she was a minor lady of note in Hendersonville back in her day.

Born in Hendersonville in 1865, Hennie was the daughter of Dr. William Davis Whitted and Sara Earle Yancy Blasingame Whitted. She married William Bates Price in Chicago in 1893 at age 28. Henry was president of the Price-Teeple Piano Company. William had two children from his first marriage, Albert and Kathleen, who lived with their mother, Lucy. The couple made their home in Chicago and had no children of their own.

To be honest, I couldn’t find much about Hennie. She did write two books, “Sketches in Lyric Prose and Verse” in 1920 and “Ravelings in Rhyme” in 1910. I can see how ladies of that era might have enjoyed reading them. I could not track down any of her musical compositions.

When she died on Feb. 4, 1923 at age 58, this was her obituary in the Hickory (North Carolina) Daily Record.

While her funeral was held at the chapel at Chicago’s Graceland Cemetery, Hennie’s body was brought home to Oakdale Cemetery for burial beside her parents. Her husband, William, died in 1936.

Life is Just a Patchwork Quilt

There’s a bit of verse written by Hennie on the back of her grave marker. But I found this one from her poem “The Patchwork Quilt” that I particularly liked.

I’ll be back next time with more stories from Oakdale Cemetery.