Thomas Y. Trimble, killed by a murderous Ruffian

Gravestones typically provide only the most meagre details of a person’s life: a name; a date of birth; a date of death; and perhaps a family relationship (“Father”, “Daughter”, “Beloved Wife”). If any other text appears on the marker, it will, as likely as not, be a religious verse or popular saying that reveals little about the person. More rarely, there might be a few lines about the person’s life, accomplishments, and occupation. Most uncommon of all are those stones which describe how their owners died.

In rural Adams County, Illinois, near the village of Ursa, is Denson Pioneer Cemetery. Denson looks much like other small-town cemeteries of similar age – save for the large number of stones which were repaired after a tornado struck the cemetery in 1974. Among the marble headstones is one that lies flat on the ground, with a remarkable inscription: “In Memory of Tho’s Y. Trimble, …was Slain by the Murderous Hand of a Ruffian and Outlaw, May 13 1865”.

Henry Asbury’s “Reminiscences of Quincy, Illinois” (1882), provides scant details of this murder:

“In 1865 Rose, an alleged bushwhacker was taken from the jail and hung by some of the convalescent soldiers in the hospital here aided by a number of promiscuous people and inhabitants. Rose was, I believe, accused of having shot Mr Trimble a valuable and prominent Democratic citizen of Marcelline.”

In Plainfield Cemetery, Will County, Illinois, a black granite monument features an etched picture of a hot air balloon. The inscription reads “Prof. Harry Darnell met his death July 26, 1911, making a Balloon Ascension at Electric Park Aged 38 years.” Upon closer inspection, one can see the figure of a man hanging from the bottom of the balloon, clinging to a rope or trapeze with his legs.

The New York Times of that July 27th carried an short article entitled, “Balloonist Falls to Death – Aeronaut Drops 700 Feet in the Presence of Thousands”. The article details how Harry Darnell, an experienced balloonist, was “dashed to death in the presence of thousands of horrified men and women”, falling into the DuPage River, during a performance at Electric Park in Plainfield. The Times article concludes with the statement that “Every bone in the aeronaut’s body was broken.”

Plainfield’s Electric Park, one of many amusement parks that used that name in the early twentieth century, was opened by the Aurora, Plainfield and Joliet Railway in 1904. Darnell had made over 230 balloon ascensions, eight of them in Plainfield; but two years before, his own brother had died in a fall from a balloon near DeKalb. On that July 26th, the management of the park offered a prize to the amateur photographer who captured the best image of Darnell’s flight, and one such spectator captured the moment just after Darnell lost hold of his trapeze bar. Two thousand watched as the performer fell into the river.  As no relative was available to claim the body, the people of Plainfield buried Darnell in Plainfield Township Cemetery, with the contributions of citizens providing for a monument. (from “Plainfield”, Timothy Smith and Michelle Smith, Arcadia Publishing).

Note the human figure suspended below the balloon.

Disasters, in which a great many lives are lost, are often mentioned on the monuments to the victims. Queen of Heaven Cemetery has a section dedicated to the ninety-two children and three nuns who died in the Our Lady of Angels school fire, with a shared monument reading “In Devout Memory of the Victims of the Fire”. In Bohemian National Cemetery, Chicago, several monuments bear the phrase “Obeti Eastlandu”, indicating the persons interred there died in the S.S. Eastland disaster of 1915, in which a passenger ship overturned on the Chicago river, trapping over eight hundred people to die below decks. In Forest Home Cemetery, west of Chicago, one monument to two children reads “Lost in the Iroquois Fire”, referring to the 1903 theater fire where six hundred died.

Brothers, lost in the Iroquois Theater Fire

Those who sacrifice their own lives for the good of others are remembered by those they saved.  Soldiers who die in battle often have the place where they made their last stand indicated on their monuments.  Police and firemen who die in the line of duty might have their sacrifice noted; such as Harry Magers, young police chief of Elmhurst, Illinois.  Chief Magers was shot and killed when confronting two robbery suspects, a day after his own twenty-sixth birthday.

Cale Cramer's monument at Oak Woods

Perhaps the most spectacular Illinois monument erected by the grateful recipients of a hero’s selfless deed is that of Cale Cramer in Oak Woods Cemetery, Chicago.   A railroad engineer, Cale Cramer stayed at his post, slowing his train in an attempt to avoid a head-on collision with another.   Though he was unable to prevent the crash, the reduction in speed was enough to prevent major damage to the passenger cars – Cramer himself was the only person killed in the collision.  Cramer’s monument – erected by the grateful survivors – resembles a pile of disassembled train parts; a flat panel on one side shows a picture of the train and tells that Cramer “lost his life by saving the train at York Indiana, July 27 1887″.

Of the hundreds of thousands of monuments that I have seen in my travels through the Graveyards of Illinois, only a tiny fraction list the cause of death.   A sudden and unexpected tragedy, like the murder of Thomas Trimble, the falling death of aeronaut Harry Darnell,  prompted some of these monuments.  Others are part of a community’s attempt to cope with a major disaster, such as the capsizing of the Eastland or the Iroquois fire.  And some monuments list the cause of death to commemorate the act of a hero.  As police chief Magers’ monument reads, “Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends”.

Hancock County Poor Farm Cemetery

On the other extreme, some graveyards are entirely forgotten – lost in the deep woods, monuments scattered or plowed under.   Or, they may be known only to local authorities, or the owner of the land or neighbouring land.  Monuments might be piled haphazardly in a corner of the cemetery, or around the bases of trees; the grass is cut infrequently or not at all.

In such places, one might drive by a seemingly empty field, a grove of trees, or an ordinary fence, not knowing a graveyard is there.

Some of these cemeteries, however, are known to local historians and to the researchers of the U.S. Geological Survey, which recorded their latitude and longitude, perhaps before the cemetery was “forgotten” to the general public.  Using their list, graveyard explorers like me have found and walked through some of these cemeteries – alongside or within farmers’ fields, in woods, on a golf course, in a scrap yard.

In rural Hancock County, Illinois, next to a farm field lies a seemingly empty grassy area, bordered with trees.  It doesn’t look like a graveyard at all, even when one begins walking through it.  But behind one large tree (near the centre of the above photo), leaning against the trunk, are the only two remaining headstones.

A small patch of woods near Kankakee conceals the Old State Hospital Cemetery – which is barely there at all, with one visible headstone and a scattering of fragments.

Monument at Drake Cemetery

Drake Cemetery, in Boone County, also has just a handful of tombstones.  Surrounded by woods, and with the few stones knocked to the ground, it is not recognizable as a cemetery from even a few feet away.

Formerly Forgotten

In some cases, however, efforts are made to restore and recognize forgotten cemeteries.   Nearby cities or other authorities often take over the property, repair monuments, and erect signs.  In Palatine, Wolfrum Cemetery has been restored; though every monument had been knocked down and damaged in the past, they are now set into concrete frames in the ground, and a sign informs the visitor of the cemetery’s name and overseeing authority.

In the southwest part of Cook County, Sauerbier-Burkhardt Cemetery has undergone a similar restoration.  For years, hikers told tales of gravestones in the woods near 135th street.  In the 1984, the site was acquired by the Cook County Forest Preserve District; and when a residential subdivision was built nearby, the county set the stones upright, added a bicycle and walking trail that passed alongside the cemetery, and erected a sign detailing the history of the Sauerbier and Burkhardt families.

Dewes Cemetery, Cook County, Restored

Local Boy Scouts adopt forgotten cemeteries as community service projects.   For many years, a nondescript chain link fence enclosed an overgrown clearing, hidden away in woods on a golf course in Glenview.  When I visited the site in the late 1990s, nothing at all could be seen behind the locked gate except weeds growing to the height of a man.  But now, the cemetery is open, well kept, and properly marked: Dewes Cemetery is cared for by a Scout, as the new sign proudly states.

With the technology available to us, no cemetery need be forgotten.  The lists assembled by the US Geological Survey are invaluable in locating these places; they can then be visited, photographed, and documented on web sites like this one.  Though monuments may be scattered, broken, face down, or weathered to illegibility, we can still commemorate and preserve these sacred places.

Monday, a DuPage County Judge ordered that title of the land be transferred to the City of Chicago so that O’Hare Airport – which is just beyond the fence at the rear of this photo – can have additional runways built.  Within weeks, city workers will begin the obscene task of dismantling this cemetery.  Bodies will be relocated to other cemeteries chosen by surviving family members.

With the entire corrupt Illinois political machine against them, St. John’s United Church of Christ faced a difficult struggle to save the cemetery.  The state legislature even changed the law to favour the city (frightfully reminiscent of a bill of attainder).  To base a ruling on laws passed after the trials began, specifically for the benefit of one of the parties and the detriment of the other, is not justice – it’s the sort of thing one expects in a third-world dictatorship.

Today’s featured stone is the H.F. Volberding monument at St. Johannes.  The style is known as a “pedestal tomb”.   Atop a concrete base (on which the Volberding name can still be clearly read), a tall block of marble stands.  The front is inscribed with an intricate floral design surrounding the name and biographical details – in a fancy German script – of the persons buried here.  The soft marble has weathered to such an extent that only the surname, in large lettering, is still readable; the other details have been lost.

What will happen to this monument, and the hundreds of others here, when the city completes its foul task?  Will it be thrown onto a pile of rubble?  If they attempt a proper removal and reconstruction at a new location, will this monument survive?  Or will it crumble under the rough hands of city thugs who care nothing for the history they destroy?

For more on St. Johannes Cemetery, read here.

Fox Monument, Capron Cemetery

Adopting a custom of other bloggers in the Graveyard Rabbits network, I shall be posting “Tombstone Tuesdays” – a brief article highlighting an interesting stone, each Tuesday.

The first entry is the Fox monument at Capron Cemetery, Capron, Boone County Illinois.  The monument is carved to include two horizontal logs, with the texture of the bark clearly visible.  The lettering, also, resembles the natural forms of wood.

W.I. Fox, 1830-1924;  S.L. Woodruff Fox, 1825-1905.

I visited Burr Oak only once, in 2003, at the invitation of a previous manager (the suspect’s predecessor, who has not been connected to these events in any way).  She and her husband showed me the historic graves, such as Emmett Till, Dinah Washington, Otis Spann, Drew Ali…   They were very proud of their cemetery and its history, in stark contrast to the vile profiteers who desecrated it a few years later.  In 2003, the cemetery was in good condition, though there was a bit of flooding in the western portion.  Mamie Till (Emmett’s mother) had recently been entombed there, in the cemetery’s only above-ground vault, and there were plans for a museum to be built on site.

But, in spite of its history, I did not revisit Burr Oak, and I have only a handful of photos – mostly close-ups of individual markers of the famous interments.  I regret, now, that I had not obtained more landscape shots, before the cemetery became nefarious.   My preference is for Victorian architecture and monument styles, and I just don’t find flat-marker cemeteries visually appealing; and as I had only recently switched to a digital camera (Nikon D100) I was not yet in the habit of shooting everything in sight, and getting plenty of wide shots.

So Burr Oak is lost to us.  I have only a minimal record of what it looked like before the atrocity; and now it is forever tainted; once a place of history and culture, now it will be mentioned alongside the Tri-State Crematory as a horrific incident of betrayal of a sacred trust.

Burris’s monument – or mausoleum – is a grey granite structure featuring twin crypts, a small roof, and a wall with the state seal of Illinois and a list of Burris’s accomplishments and offices.   By the standards of the beautiful and historic Oak Woods, it’s not particularly spectacular.

Nevertheless, the Senator presumptive has been mocked for it – blogger “Wonkette” calls it a “terrifying death chamber”.  In the eyes of these people, Burris has committed a cardinal sin, violating the “less is more” wisdom received from Ludwig Mies.  These people apparently think that no one should aspire to stand out from a crowd, to have a monument that displays character, accomplishment, vision and artistic flair; they seem to want everyone to lie under the standard-issue granite rectangles.

This author salutes Senator Burris for having the courage to express himself, and to give the gift of a unique monument to future generations.  Though it lacks the beauty of the Victorian Gothic monuments that can also be seen at Oak Woods, it stands head and shoulders above the endless grid of anonymous grey rectangles that fill most modern cemeteries. Whatever one thinks of the Senate appointment, Burris is a man of significant accomplishments – Attorney General, Comptroller – and these deserve to be remembered.

Thank you, Senator Burris, for breaking free of the straightjacket of “less is more”, and for refusing to have merely an ordinary, unremarkable granite slab.

We are not all alike in life, why should we be alike in death?

update: Thanks to Eric Zorn of the Chicago Tribune for asking my opinion, and linking here from his column.

update ii: please note that this is a not a political web site – it’s a graveyard site.  Please don’t post random political arguments here.

I’ve now set up a new one, hosted here on my own server, and more integrated into the rest of the site – as I’m actively working on graveyards.com regularly again, I hope to have more to report.

The site has grown tremendously in the past year.  My focus has shifted from the “featured sites” section to the “cemetery list” section.

At the end of December 2007 the site contained 3209 photos.

Today, one year later, it has 6211 photos.

Early in 2008, I invited others to contribute photos of graveyards I had not yet been to, so that each record in the “cemetery list” database might be illustrated.  Many responded to the call!  Volunteers throughout Illinois have covered entire counties, some submitting multiple photos of each of dozens of graveyards.

I’d like to think the most prolific contributors:  Angie Johnson, Al and Carole Martin, David Habben, Joan Blood, Carol Slingo, and all the others who have sent photographs of Illinois graveyards.

The game has existed since 2000 but this is the first I had seen it… and looking more closely, I had another surprise. The drawing exactly matches the angle of one of the two photos of the mausoleum that had been on my site since 1996.

I’m flattered that my photo inspired a game design – but they should have at least told me about it back then; I’d have ordered several copies.

Compare the photo and drawing here

I wanted to visit some friends in Ohio; and as that state has more dead presidents than any other, I planned my route accordingly.

Friday, I drove through Indiana, stopping in Indianapolis for about five hours to see Crown Hill Cemetery, which includes President Benjamin Harrison; three Vice Presidents (and one failed candidate for that post); John Dillinger; and poet James Whitcomb Riley. A fine Victorian cemetery, I rate it at 4.5 stars (equal to Chicago’s Forest Home or Mt. Carmel).

After staying the night at a friend’s house in western Ohio, I visited the grave of Warren G. Harding in Marion. He is generally considered a poor president, but because he died in office has a magnificent monument – a circular structure about one hundred feet across, surrounded by columns fifty feet high, with his grave and that of his wife in a courtyard in the middle. The cemetery across the street has the receiving vault where the president’s body was temporarily stored.

All day Sunday I was in Cleveland. Lakeview Cemetery is magnificent, and I toured it the whole day, longer than I had planned. President Garfield’s monument dominates – it is a 160-foot brown stone tower, with a statue of the president on the main floor, and the burial chamber below. Surprisingly, the president and first lady’s coffins were exposed – not sealed behind or under any stone, the bronze coffins sat on pedestals in the open air, with only iron bars to keep the tourists from touching them. Lakeview is a “5-star” cemetery, my highest rating.

Monday I journeyed home, stopping first in Canton to see President McKinley – who has a large domed mausoleum on top of a hill – and explore the graveyard next door, with its wonderful hillside vaults.

I then drove most of the way across Ohio, stopping in the small town of Fremont to visit the Rutherford B. Hayes presidential center; the president’s estate, now converted into a library and museum. The president and his wife, their son and his wife are in a small graveyard on the grounds, with a comparitively humble monument.

I drove home on I-90 across northern Indiana. As I passed the town of Gary, a long stretch of chemical factories came into view – and at that same moment, the song “Black God” by My Dying Bride began on the CD player… that song is just about the bleakest, most mournful piece of music I know, and was perfect for the view out the window.

The total score: 1,980 photos.

(this post was copied from my previous blog, December 2008)