My post today is a sad one. I wanted to use photographs from Powell County today. I can’t tell you why I chose Powell, just a random choice. Ritchey and I visited August 19, 2017, taking photographs in three cemeteries – Clay City Eaton Cemetery, Kennon Cemetery and Powell Valley Baptist Cemetery.
Our journey today is to Kennon Cemetery. Our drive was from Harrodsburg, Kentucky, starting north US 127, right onto Hwy 9002, then a right on Hwy 60 to Lexington, around New Circle Road to New Town Pike to get on I64, to Winchester, Kentucky, where we hopped on the Bert Combs Mountain Parkway, over to the beautiful hills of Eastern Kentucky. At Clay City, the county seat for Powell, we turned right on Hwy 1057, known as Hardwick Creek’s Road. Driving down this area we were between two sets of knobs – a beautiful drive with the creek on the left side of us. We turned left on Ballard Branch Road and the cemetery turn wasn’t far, a left turn where you can see Kennon Cemetery – about 82 miles and travel time of an hour and a half. In this farming area it was very quiet and peaceful.
I am sharing only one gravestone with you, but as I searched for answers it became clear these were no ordinary deaths.
A father, two children and their housekeeper perished in a night fire.
The Winchester Sun, Winchester, Kentucky – March 30, 1915
A search revealed the young wife and mother died two years previous of typhoid fever.
The Clay City Times, Clay City, Kentucky – September 4, 1913
What a tragic end for this small family. It should make us cherish the time we have together. But more importantly, I hope someone remembers them. In a post from some years ago I discussed the theory that you die twice – once with the actual death, and the second time when people don’t say your name any more. I think that’s why I have the habit of reading names aloud when I visit a cemetery. Let’s bring these people back to life, to live again in our memories.
Categories: Cemeteries
I remember your post about the second death when no one says your name anymore. I visit the graves of my sister, parents, grandparents, great and great-great grandparents each year to clean the headstones and to show my kids where the graves are and talk about how we’re all related. It’s a nice way to keep a hands-on connection to our family history.
I’m just reading this post early this morning Phyliss about the family dying in the fire. I’m so touched by you saying you read names out loud when you visit a cemetery. I will remember that from now on. When a person’s name is read out loud in church or at a memorial service it really does make them feel almost present for a moment. Definitely not forgotten. Thank-you. You are still a beloved teacher. 🍃💕🍃💕🍃
Thank you! I keep telling my grandchildren I am most of all a teacher, even though I was finance officer for a school system for 25 years! Julian, 10, FaceTimes with us every night and we discuss geography, world politics, current events – and Minecraft!! He’s quite the character!!
My heart skipped a beat for a moment because I have lots of Larisons in my line. I had to go back to my tree to double check. Most came from Ohio to Illinois in the early to mid 1800’s. Still this is so very sad. So many tragic stories from the “olden days” that are now avoidable.