We spent part of today’s afternoon with some of the older residents of our hometown. I hadn’t visited them in nearly fifteen years, but they were still there, of course. I would have liked to have heard the tales these old souls most certainly would have been able to tell. But they are silenced, and have been for what remains of eternity. But if you listen and look around awhile, you can discern a bit of life from them, despite them being dead for more than a hundred years and more. Sometimes, words are not necessary…
I remember Thomas from my last visit. You can recollect it with us here.
I happened to notice the name on this headstone as we were leaving. The owner of this plot shared our last name (and it’s not a common name!).
Rest well.
Do you have the address for this Jones Cemetery? I am looking for my great grandfather, William L Jones. He died in 1910 just before my grandfather was born. His name was William L Jones and his poppy was William Jones Jr.
He was from this area of VA/WV. Thank you. I love reading your stories, each one take me home for a few minutes.
The cemetery is in Cedar Bluff, VA. There may be a list online of the interred.
Thank you
Where is this at?
Cedar Bluff, VA
Great evocation of the history of Southern loss. The langue speaks volumes. Have you visited the Garden in Savannah? If no, go. You will love the stories our people tell there.
Isn’t it sad that the headstones get discolored and the ground shifts so that they often lean or even fall over? I imagine that family members who would ordinarily care for these graveyards may have died or moved away. My husband and I do like to walk through old cemeteries (and new ones too), reading the headstones and trying to imagine what their life was like. Thanks for this …