Alive
with history: Area grave sites presently rich in the past
Joe McAdory
/ County Road
October
30, 2005
Mary Dowdell doesn’t use a nine
iron. She’s never slapped a Titleist into Lake Saugahatchee, nor has she
made divots along the 18th fairway at Grand National’s Lake Course. She
never made par, never made a hole-in-one or sent a ball sailing into the sand trap.
But some believe this woman who spends more time
at Grand National than any other soul has an unseen hand in every approaching shot.
Maybe she directs the breeze. Maybe she places a spooky spin on the ball. Maybe she’s the annoying gnat that distracts men in the tee box.
Head to Grand National and you’ll find her
… buried in the rough. She’s laid to rest in the shade beneath the
tall pine trees, with straw and cones scattered about, to the right of the 18th fairway.
Driven by the autumn breeze, fallen leaves rustle across her grave, which faces due east - in the direction of the
clubhouse of course.
"They say the clubhouse has a ghost named Mary,"
said Grand National Club pro Scott Gomberg. "Some say she keeps the birdies from
falling."
Bill and Judy Gotschall, Hurricane Wilma evacuees
from Naples, Fla., played Grand National for the first time last week and wonder if Mary thrives on success.
"Maybe she’ll bring good luck," Judy Gotschall
said.
"I think she’s hanging out in that sand trap,"
Bill chimed in. "I think Mary would love to know that people were enjoying themselves
on her property and that they have kept it in beautiful condition."
The 100th anniversary of her death, Dec. 28, lies
only two months away. But she had reason to celebrate. This Southern woman lived 85 long years. Visit her stone grave
and the only telling fact of her life other than her date of death states she was baptized on the fourth Sunday of September
in 1852 at the Bethlehem Church in Harris County, Ga., by Elber Greathouse.
Did Mary ever hook a bass in nearby Lake Saugahatchee? Did she have a husband and children? What
kind of woman was she? A simple headstone doesn’t reveal these mysteries.
Grave markers don’t always tell a person’s
story. Usually, you’ll find a name, date of birth, date of death and possibly
a short description about what made that person great. Perhaps it’s a beloved
mother, faithful husband, hard-working public servant, or one who simply had many friends.
Then there are the children. It’s sad to stroll the cemetery grounds and stumble across a tiny slab. Many were infants. Some were not. Their premature departure works against the laws of nature.
Walk through a cemetery and you can’t help
reading tombstones. Each stone has a story.
Each person buried beneath has one too. Cemeteries are grassy history
books. Each stone is another chapter. Some
old. Some new.
Below are the short stories of some of our area’s
most interesting grave markers and the people they’re dedicated to. Most
were found in Pine Hill Cemetery in Auburn and Rosemere Cemetery in Opelika. After
all, they’re among the oldest public cemeteries in both cities.
Founding Fathers
Judge John J.
Harper learned of East Alabama’s wonder from friends while serving as Probate Judge in Harris County, Ga. He took their word for it and in 1836 turned the fine timberland of what is now Auburn
his home. He settled with his family along what is now Dumas Drive and is considered
today the founder of Auburn. His daughter-in-law, Lizzie Taylor, named the city
after reading the passage about "The Loveliest Village."
Harper’s family legacy was stricken by tuberculosis. Three sons died from the disease. In
1789 at 57, Harper did too.
A big part of Harper’s legacy may very well
be what’s considered the hub of the town. A devout Methodist, Harper aspired
to make Auburn an education center. Today, it’s home to the state’s
largest university.
You can’t miss it. Capt. George Washington Cherry’s family marker spires tall on Rosemere Cemetery’s east end
and sparkles in the sun. Sparkles? That’s
right. Sparkles. It’s made
of zinc, a rare element for grave markers. The marker, an original, came from
New England in the late 1800s. Cherry died June 17, 1913 as an 82-year-old.
Cherry was a Confederate Captain, who fought in Mississippi,
Tennessee and Alabama, and operated a farm near Gold Hill. He may be locally
famous as serving as one of Opelika’s founding fathers. He also owned Opelika
Mercantile Company. His brother, Rev. Francis Lafayette Cherry, was a newspaperman
in east Alabama and in Georgia.
Appreciated
A page out of Pine Hill Cemetery’s Lantern
Tour tells the story of Gatsy Rice better than I. Here’s what it says:
"I was born a slave, and mine in the only remaining
marked grave of a colored person in Pine Hill, though many were buried in this old, north part of Pine Hill back in the 19th
century.
"I guess one could say I represent all those colored
buried here before and after slavery, whose resting places and names remain unknown.
Colored people continued to be buried here until Baptist Hill Cemetery on Dean Road was opened as an all-black cemetery
in the 1870s.
"After I was freed, I worked hard as a seamstress
and finally ran my own boarding house downtown. The college boys back then had
to wear military uniforms and they liked my sewing and cooking too. A white man,
who admired my courage, though I do not know his name, so I am told, erected my gravestone some time after my death. It says that I died at 63 years of age, but I forget the year of my death. Dates never meant much to me."
Tragedy averted, then realized
Loxla Edwards survived a near hanging when raiders
ripped through his home in the county, put a noose around his neck and strung him from a tree.
In the meantime, the devils looted his home for money, jewelry, a sword from the Civil War and whatever else they could
find. His servants, Charles, Dave and Frances pleaded for his life and managed
to bring him back to the ground. Edwards survived the ordeal, but watched as
his belongings were taken.
Tragedy, however, could not be avoided in other parts
of his life. His brother, Berry Edwards, Sr. was killed in the 1830s by Indians,
leaving a widow and eight children.
Later, a celebration at Spring Villa turned into
devastation. Loxla’s oldest son, Berry W. Edwards, had just returned from
the Civil War and the family honored him with a picnic. Instead, Loxla lost his
son, a daughter and two granddaughters drowned in a canoeing accident.
Loxla Edwards eventually served as Opelika’s
mayor for three terms before dying July 19, 1876.
Unknown soldiers
Arlington National Cemetery has the Tomb of the Unknown
Soldier. Pine Hill and Rosemere have similar plots, minus the changing of the
guard.
At the rear of Pine Hill Cemetery beneath the oak
trees you’ll find a noticeable marker memorializing a group of unknown Confederate soldiers, many of which were from
Texas.
Evidently, a Confederate hospital once stood where
Auburn University’s Samford Hall is today. The hospital averaged housing
400 wounded brought in by train from battlefronts across the South. Ironically,
it was dubbed the "Texas Hospital" since it was funded by the state of Texas for its wounded.
Upon the marker is a poem, "the Bivouac of the Dead,"
written by Theodore O’Hara. The poem’s original intent was to commemorate
soldiers who died in the Mexican War.
"Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead. Dear as the blood you gave … nor shall your glory be forgot.
While fame her record keeps. Or honor points the hallowed spot. Where valor proudly sleeps."
Fourteen unidentified Confederate soldiers are buried
at Rosemere. They’re quite easy to spot – just look for 14 tiny,
white crosses near Long Street, which splits the cemetery. Tales of the soldiers’
mission or history of their deaths is not clear. They may have been part of an
established military camp in Opelika in 1861, or possibly killed when Rousseau’s Federal troops swept through town in
July of 1864, burning warehouses and the train depot along the way.
The soldiers were originally buried at Rosemere’s
front, but have since been moved.
Dedication
Here’s a story of a slave who loved his master. Amos Wynn was the slave and playmate of the young Jeff Wynn. As legend has it, Jeff Wynn was tragically killed in 1859 by his first cousin in a hunting accident. Mysteriously, the boy’s grave was not marked by his family, an omission that
bothered the slave.
Upon Amos Wynn’s emancipation, he was determined
to put a marker at the place of his friend’s grave as a memorial. Amos
Wynn dug wells and graves to slowly pay for the new headstone. Through hard work,
Amos eventually raised enough money to pay for his fallen friend’s memorial.
Ironically, when Amos died and was buried across
town at Baptist Hill, he was laid to rest without a marker – a problem which was later rectified.
The Governor
Opelika received statewide prestige when one of its
own, William James Samford, was elected governor in 1900. A Confederate veteran
and prisoner of war, Samford previously served in the U.S. House of Representatives, was a State Representative and was President
of the State Senate.
Samford’s tenure as governor, however, was
cut short. He died of a heart ailment in 1901 while attending a trustee meeting
at the University of Alabama.
Samford, born in Greenville, Ga., was raised in Oak
Bowery before attending college at Auburn and Georgia. He remains one of the
most prominent figures in area history.
His father, William F. Samford, was a renown writer
and editor who is buried at Pine Hill. Confederate troops of the Auburn regiments
trained around his home on South College Street. Ever heard of Samford Hall? Now you know why.
Hole In My Head
Jethro Walker, a prominent Auburn lawyer, has a bullet
hole in his head. Not many of us can say that.
The sad part about Walker’s situation was this man was in his parlor reading the bible when a gunman fired a
shot through the window and sent a bullet right into his forehead. Walker has
been buried in Pine Hill since his death in 1858.
Now why would somebody do that? Shooting someone in the forehead isn’t very cordial, even for the 19th century.
Let it be noted that Walker’s murderer was
not caught. Hmm…
Let it also be noted that one of Walker’s sons
from his third wife left quickly for Cuba following the shooting.
Two of Walker’s three wives are buried beside
him. Their burial is another interesting story – they’re buried on
top of another.
Devoted Confederate
Sara Harrison must have loved her husband tremendously. Not only did she place a magnificent Georgian marble at the grave of Gen. George Harrison
in Rosemere Cemetery, but she made sure his grave was far more prominent than hers.
Her plot would not be beside her late husband, but rather in a corner of the family plot – ensuring his massive
marker drew the attention.
Gen. Harrison, buried in a Confederate uniform upon
his death in 1922, earned the rank of brigadier general in the Confederate Army before he turned 21. He was the youngest general in the Army. Not bad. But he also accomplished much after the war, serving as a state senator, in the 56th U.S. Congress and
as Major Gen. for the Alabama United Confederate Veterans.
Upon his monument is a listing of Gen. Harrison’s
accomplishments, but a French poem enscribed at the foot of a vase is the most catching.
It translates, "The time flies; The flowers die; The years pass; Love remains."
Only feet away from Gen. Harrison’s masterful
monument towers a statue you can find in "Ripley’s Believe it or Not." Atop a spire rests a stone angel. There’s nothing odd about the angel except the fact she’s facing the west.
Oops.
Let Me Help You
Dr. John Darden wanted to make sure that black people
had medical care. He had to since he was the only black doctor within a 30-mile
radius. From his home along Auburn Street in 1904, he treated those who needed
his care. He also built a hospital specifically for blacks since none were allowed
admission otherwise.
Dr. Darden eventually opened a drugstore, which became
a meeting place for the black community. Dr. Darden, who died in 1949 and buried
at Rosemere, was proud to help create an even stronger Opelika.
I Shot the Sheriff
Perhaps Jimi Hendrix’s psychedelic tune was
inspired by the dreadful actions of Charles Green Miller. Perhaps the best way
to describe what happened to the late Lee County Sheriff Samuel "Buck" Jones is to let him describe his final evening himself,
with the help of Rosemere Cemetery enthusiast Angela Hamby.
"Early in the morning of June 29, 1932, while I was
serving what I thought would be my first term of sheriff, I was called to investigate a multiple homicide," Jones said, er
Hamby writes. "A man named Charles Green Miller had gone on a rampage –
destroying the contents of his home with an axe and killing his wife by slashing her throat with a razor."
Nice guy, huh?
And this was before the movie "Friday the 13th."
"Still in a murderous rage, Miller proceeded to the
home of Taylor Matthews, his brother-in-law. He killed Matthews and severely
wounded his wife by firing at them point blank range with a shotgun. Intending
to arrest Miller, I took my deputy, Mr. Roberts, with me to Miller’s house. Roberts
went around the back of the house while I approached the front door. Just as
I placed my hand on the screen door, the front door suddenly swung open and before I could even draw my pistol, Miller shot
me dead at close range with a blast from his shotgun. The load made a hole the
size of a silver dollar all the way through my chest."
Too much information?
Sorry.
Miller escaped briefly, but was hunted by a handful
of armed citizens. The posse tracked the killer into a cornfield four miles east
of Opelika, then fired relentlessly – shredding holes throughout his body. Witnesses
claim Miller was shot 50 to 60 times. His tattered remains were brought to the
lawn of the Lee County Courthouse. Justice was served.
Jones was the only elected Lee County Sheriff killed
on duty.
I Like My Bed
William Mitchell relished in comfort. Come to think of it, he still does.
Mitchell, known by many as Uncle Billy, died in 1856
and has spent the next 149 years in his bed. His large gravesite is among the
most unique in the area. You see, he’s buried with a brick crypt, which
holds his remains atop his favorite feather bed above ground level. His bedtime
slippers were placed beneath the bed’s frame.
Mitchell figured since he worked hard for all of
his life, his nights should be enjoyed by the comfort provided in his feather bed. Mitchell
wished he didn’t have to get out of bed each morning and go to work and that heaven to him was his big feather bed. Evidently, he got what he wanted.
Extravagance
Felton Little isn’t just a youth baseball field
in Auburn. It’s also the name of a man who owned loads of real estate and
wheeled around Auburn in what was considered as the fanciest car in town. The
year was 1914 and Little’s ride had electric lights, an electric starter and was considered to be a "chick magnet." Ironically, he remained single.
A big part of Little’s legacy is his tenure
as president of Auburn Bank, where Bodega is today, and the fact he owned an abundance of land near Cary Woods.
Something different
Only two shell graves can be found at Pine Hill. The grave pictured above, of an unidentified child, lies in the northern sector of
the cemetery. Shells were once common cemetery décor, which were said to symbolize
resurrection and eternal life.
When we think of tombstones, we obviously think of
granite, marble or some sort of rock. The grave marker for Mahalia Shelton at
Pine Hill is neither. Hers is made of zinc.
Really. Tap your knuckles along its base and you can hear it belt out
a deep ring.
A journey through the cemetery is an education. There, you’ll find family generations and the evolution of grave markers. Some cracked, beginning to sink into the soil.
Some made of magnificent marble. Cemeteries teach us the history of our
communities. A touch of sadness for those we lost. A touch of gladness for what they contributed.
Head to a cemetery and take a long look. Just don’t go alone at night.
Joe McAdory is editorial page editor for the Opelika-Auburn News. He can be reached at 749-6271 ext. 2549 or jmcadory@oanow.com