Here comes the bridalwreath

Spiraea, also called bridalwreath (actually Spiraea prunifolia --- I think), is a tool from the landscaping kit of our grandmothers that doesn't seem to get too much respect these days. But back in the day when nearly everyone in the Midwest had a front porch, there was a good chance this import from the Orient would border it, flank it, obscure it or in some other manner be located nearby.

That's still the case at the Stephens House, and with storms in the forecast I went out late Sunday afternoon to take a few pictures before the wind and heavy rain arrived. Isn't it beautiful?

The alternate name, bridalwreath, probably results from cascading branches that when in full bloom resemble the trailing parts of an elaborate bride's bouquet.

The somewhat unruly nature of the shrub probably is what makes it less popular these days. Although it does need to be trimmed judiciously after blooming, it is best left shaggy and really isn't designed to be clipped into a hedge shape --- that upsets the bloom pattern, the principal reason for planting spiraea in the first place. On the other hand, if allowed to go out of control to the point it starts to take over a building, spiraea generally will survive and bounce back from being cut to the ground.

The other staple of vintage landscaping at the Stephens House is a constantly expanding sea of old-fashioned ferns along the north side of the building. For some reason years ago the decision was made to plant some sort of new-fangled landscaping shrub among them. Maybe some day the newer shrubs, planted as part of a memorial I believe, will pass to their reward and can be replaced with the other staple ferns call for --- lilacs.

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I was a tour guide in a previous incarnation, so the appearance of a vehicle with Utah license plates always brightens my day. This generally means I get to wax wise on the intricacies of the Mormon Trail across Lucas County --- and as is happening more often this days, direct or guide folks to the new memorial in the Chariton Cemetery for Elder Freeman Nickerson. If you follow this blog, you'll remember that we dedicated that monument last summer.

So shortly after the Utah-based vehicle pulled into the museum drive Friday and I had dazzled its occupants by telling them exactly what they were looking for without being asked, we were off to visit not only the monument but also the site of the (unmarked) Nickerson party graves in old Douglass Cemetery a mile east. The were headed for a Daughters of Union Veterans convention in Illinois, so didn't stay long, but it was fun anyway.

Here's something to keep in mind if you visit the monument. It bears a small metal plate into which is inscribed a "quick read" or "QR" code. If you have a smartphone and the right free ap, you can scan the code and download the story behind the monument. Of course I didn't have the camera along Friday, but here's what the code looks like.

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Finally, if you're a follower of the adventures of Mary Ellen, you'll want to know that she arrived safely last night on the shores of beautiful Cass Lake after a nine-hour marathon through rain and wind and minor flooding. She'll probably be tuning up the motorboat today getting ready for the daily communte to Star Island where she'll be spending the summer (the last, she claims) as food services director at Camp Unistar.

This Place Matters: The Crozier house

Here's another of Chariton's "This Place Matters" photos taken last week to recognize May as Preservation Month. "This Place Matters," by the way, is a trademarked program of the National Trust for Historic Preservation.

The building is the James T. Crozier house at the intersection of North 7th Street and Ilion Avenue, now owned and lovingly maintained by Fred and Sherry Steinbach, who are holding the sign. The house is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, thanks to the Steinbachs, on its own merit and also as one of a suite of National Register properties in Chariton designed by hometown architect William L. Perkins.

J.T. Crozier was a pioneer Chariton businessman whose landmark store was located for more than 80 years on the southeast corner of the square. The family home, a substantial frame structure, was located in the southwest corner of a large acreage northeast of the 7th Street-Ilion Avenue intersection.

After fire destroyed the frame building in 1917, J.T. Crozier employed Perkins, who had just moved to town to open his office, to design this house. It was intended to be "fireproof," although that is a relative term. The exterior walls are tile clad in brick, but the interior is frame. It falls generally into the "Prairie" style.

Perkins designed other similar houses in Lucas County, although the Crozier home was the largest and grandest. A considerably smaller version is located on North Main Street. The house on the ISU McNay Research Farm southwest of Chariton is the most easily recognized as a "sister" (or brother, if you prefer).

Because fire had destroyed most of the Croziers' belongings, the new home was furnished largely from scratch in quality items ordered specifically for it. J.T. Crozier and his wife, Mary, lived in the house until their deaths, respectively in 1936 and 1939. Their daughter, Mary E. Crozier, continued to live here until the early 1960s when she sold the acreage for commercial development and the house was included in the deal.

My grandfather, then in his 80s and moving into Chariton from the family farm, was a friend of Mary and for reasons not clear to his family decided some of the Crozier furniture would fit nicely into his own new home. So he acquired the Crozier piano (he already had one of those out on the farm), a lovely vaguely French provincial walnut bedroom suite and a massive wing-backed platform rocker of oak upholstered in leather. Mary Crozier moved to a smaller house close to the square, where she lived until her death in 1988 at age 92.

Drs. Herman and Egley had purchased the Crozier property, thinking the house might work as a clinic. When it became evident that it would not, a new clinic was built to the north and the Egleys moved into the house.

Although the Egleys didn't damage the integrity of the house, they did rework its main staircase into a vaguely colonial form, altered the opening from the central hall into the living room, "modernized" the fireplaces and built-in buffet in the dining room, removed and replaced original light fixtures and carried out a variety of other projects that must have seemed like 1960s good ideas at the time.

The exterior, however, remains virtually unchanged. The south porch originally was open, but it was enclosed by the Croziers during the years they occupied the house.

Fred and Sherry have worked hard to upgrade the home's infrastructure, swept away acres of wall-to-wall carpeting to reveal (refinished) oak flooring, rebuilt the living room fireplace and redecorated in a manner  sympathetic to the style of the old house. As a result, the Crozier-Stenbach house is one of Chariton's most distinctive preservation success stories.

The Stephens House matters, too

Here's another of those "This Place Matters" photos that Alyse and I have been taking this week in recognition of the fact May is National Preservation Month. I drafted those standing in front for sign duty after Tuesday's Lucas County Historical Society board meeting. They are (from left) Barb Vogel, collections associate; and Kay Brown, Fred Steinbach, Joe Sellers and Adam Bahr, board members.

The historical society purchased the old house and its grounds (three and a half acres) during 1966, spent a couple of years restoring it, then opened it to the public during 1968. For a number of years, it was the only building on the museum campus, then others were added: The John L. Lewis Building (in two stages), Puckerbrush School, Otterbein Church, pioneer log cabin, barn and blacksmith shop.

It was built during 1911 by Andrew Jackson Stephens, a Chariton-based contractor who worked throughout the state.

"Yes, I have decided to erect a brick residence to be occupied as my family home, on my grounds in the west part of town," Stephens anounced in The Chariton Leader of May 18, 1911. "You can see the place from the north side of the square. It heads the street (Braden Avenue) and is a sightly place. I have been accumulating brick from my building contracts at several points over the state and thought this would be a good time to build."

A month later, on June 29, The Leader reported that "Andy Stephens is getting the work on his brick residence in the west part of town well under way and when completed will have one of the prettiest homes in Chariton."

When the house was added to the National Register of Historic Places during 1987, there was considerable debate about how to classify it. I'd have to look at the application to check for sure, but believe the architectural historians involved called in "American vernacular." You also might call it classical revival because of the portico and porches appended to what is essentially an American foursquare building.

The material that it's constructed of, plus the odd mix of styles, are what make it unique. The walls are a mix of rusticated concrete block and brick of a similar color. It is not, despite the Leader's 1911 description, a "pretty house," but it is distinctive and interesting.

The plan is similar to those of other houses built in Chariton during the 1895-1915 period, stair hall, double parlors and dining room in the forepart of the house; kitchen, pantry and secondary entrance, to the rear. There are five rooms upostairs --- three large ones (two of them connected by pocket doors), plus two smaller bedrooms, a bath and a large dressing room.

The full attic, once used for storage, is as of last summer filled with insulation (the house is a beast to heat and cool) and everything once stored up there has been moved to the full (and remarkably light and dry) basement --- one of these days we'll actually have to deal with this stuff rather than just move it from place to place.

Anyone who wishes to visit the old house, and the rest of the museum, is welcome to do so. We open for the summer season June 1, 1-4 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays. Admission is free. The place actually is open year-around by appointment or catch as catch can.

A walk in the woods

Spring is the best season in the woods, for me at least --- before the canopy closes overhead, when flowers that appreciate the light are blooming and the atmosphere is less claustrophic. And spring is late this year, so everything was at its peak Sunday when we followed up on lunch with a walk in the woods, led by pioneer women Jane (left) and Mary Ellen (who owns the woods). We were headed out onto a point overlooking the South Chariton River in Wayne County.

Bluebells were just coming into full bloom. The display wasn't lavish, but it was enough to remind me of my mother who always took to the woods in the spring to (judiciously) dig up a plant or two for her garden. Meg, who lives on the home farm now, told me the other day that these still are flourishing.

Leaves were just bursting forth on some trees (we decided that that this was a small hickory, although I'm not entirely convinced of that).

While there may have been some doubt about the hickory, Jane assured us that there was no doubt that this was a chestnut blossom.

As it turned out, R.C. was into bones, and there were plenty of those scattered around the woods. His mother, Kim, had to derail his plan a little later to stuff as much as possible of a deer carcass into his pockets and take it home.

Jan (left) and Jane, however, were the ones transfixed by a newly deceased woodpecker found under a tree. What followed was an outdoor-classroom session covering, among other things, the nature of a woodpecker's skull and the intricacy of its feather pattern.

I collect burr oaks --- and this one was my favorite along the trail, although there may have been others equally impressive in areas where the understory was brushy and we didn't go.

Toward the end of the walk, we ran into a bog and assigned R.C. to scout a path through it. He doesn't weigh much, and skimmed across. The rest of us didn't. This is part of the shoe-recovery effort.

When all was said and done and we were ready to head up the "ski hill" home, souvenirs were displayed: R.C., a bone; Kim, muddy boots; Mary Ellen, a chunk of honeycomb taken from the hollow limb of a giant oak that had fallen during the recent heavy snow; and Jan, the remains of a turkey egg that apparently had provided lunch for a predator.

Splendor in the glass

May is Preservation Month, intended to raise awareness of the power historic preservation has both to protect the fabric of and enhance the present and future of places like Chariton. So it was really appropriate Monday that Doug Jones' Underground Railroad program, sponsored by the Lucas County genealogical and historical societies, was hosted by First Presbyterian Church --- one of our architectural treasures.

The Presbyterians recently completed a major conservation effort in their grand 1908 building, installing a new furnace, rewiring the building, replacing the roof and redecorating its "jewel box" sanctuary. The pipe organ also has been repaired recently and restored to its place in worship.

The stained glass dome over the sanctuary (above) just amazes me every time I see it. It is by far the most dramatic feature of the interior, but the glass that forms it is in perfect harmony with the stained glass in all of the tall windows the light the sanctuary from three sides and works with those windows to create a remarkably harmonious whole.

As part of the conservation effort, the dome was relighted --- a project that included stripping paint off the brass sconces within the dome that were part of its original equipment.

Although its not evident from either inside or outside now, this glass confection originally was covered by a large exterior dome that for reasons that must have seened good at the time was removed many years ago. That was a major loss and severely diminished the overall presence of the building, but there's little point in crying over that spilled milk now. The glass dome and its support structure now are covered by a much smaller shed-like structure atop the roof, concealed by the building's parapets.

First Presbyterian probably was designed by Chariton architect O.A. Hougland, although that never has been documented. Several other churches in the south of Iowa that can be linked to Hougland bear striking resemblance to the Chariton building.

The early evening light in the sanctuary was beautiful Monday evening when we gathered for the program as sunlight was streaming through the big west windows.

These windows are not overly fussy, just magnificent examples of stained glass art at the time they were installed more than a century ago.

The interior of First Presbyterian never has been substantially altered, although the wing north of the sanctuary has been adapted for contemporary needs --- church office and social hall.  But woodwork never has been painted and all of the tall windows are intact. The congregation gathers now for coffee in the large room connected to the sanctuary by three openings with doors that slide up and down, as in a roll-top desk. These are original equipment. Rooms like this were inended originally to do double duty. Sunday school classes were held here when the doors were lowered; the area provided overflow seating, when raised.

Part of the Lucas County Preservation Commission's Preservation Month initiative is to take photos of historic buildings that feature both people who appreciate them and a sign, "This Place Matters." So I rounded up several of those who arrived early for Monday's meeting and we went outside to take the photo below. Included in it are (from left) Ilene Church, Bill and Carol Marner, Ev Brightman, Sarah Palmer (retired First Presbyterian pastor), Doug Jones and Dru Thorne. Ev, who is Presbyterian, arranged for Monday's meeting to be held in this wonderful building that really does matter.

You can read a little more about First Presbyterian Church here. Economic development within the context of historic preservation is the core mission of the Chariton Area Chamber/Main Street. If you're interested in helping out, feel free to contact the Chamber/Main Street office at (641) 774-4059.

God is on whose side, you say?

Gay Minnesota lawmakers DFL Sen. Scott Dibble and DFL Rep. Karen Clark sponsored equality legislation in their respective legislative chambers.

Des Moines-based RAYGUN takes honors for coming up with the best t-shirt from an Iowa perspective --- "Minnesota is now finally as gay as Iowa" ---  in the aftermath of the marriage equality sweep that has engulfed our neighbor to the north.

It was fun to watch Gov. Mark Dayton sign equality legislation into law Tuesday afternoon after it had gained House approval 75-59 last week and was approved in the Senate on Monday, 37-30. Minnesota thereby became the 12th marriage equality state (plus the District of Columbia).

Rolling-on-the-floor-laughing moments came when disgruntled Republicans pissed and moaned about the time wasted on equality legislation when Minnesota had so many other problems the Legislature could better have spent its time on.

Now let me see. Michele Bachmann, then a state lawmaker, began promoting a gay marriage ban in the Minnesota Legislature during 2004. Republicans made the proposal a time-consuming issue in every session until 2012, when a ban finally was shaped into a constitutional amendment --- rejected by voters last November. How much time was wasted on that debacle do you suppose? It's all, I guess, a matter of perspective.

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The hot (and totally baseless so far as I know) rumor of the week has been that Bachmann intends to move from Minnesota in protest. If there's even an ounce of truth in this, pray God that she doesn't decide to come home to Iowa. Our GOP loon list is long enough as is.

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Speaking of prayer, opponents of equality hauled out the "prayer warriors" again as votes in Minnesota approached --- and were spurned. So tell me, how many times does God have to endorse same-sex marriage before broad acknowledgement among religious types that it's part of the master plan? Just asking ....

On the other hand, I imagine that a good many self-identified progressive Christians were praying for marriage equality, bless their hearts. Thanks!

It just seems unlikely that too many of these progressive prayers were LGBT --- the church isn't especially good at much, but it sure does know how to drive away folks who might otherwise be helping to fill the pews. In the end, I expect, the major accomplishment of the conservative church will turn out to have been marginalization of the entire church.

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This whole prayer business is a source of confused bemusement to those of us who are skeptics. Why, for example, if this God of ours is omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent --- counting the feathers on each of those danged sparrows as it were --- is it necessary to beg for what you're standing in need of? Don't you think He/She/It knows?

Don't accuse me of being an anti-prayer warrior, though. Prayer has its place --- as a call to action, individually and collectively; as an aid in turning toward that-of-God within to search for guidance. I'm glad to endorse prayer. Confession and absolution are good for any variety of soul.

We've been praying lately on Sunday mornings that old one attributed to St. Francis --- you know, the one that begins, "Lord, make me an instrument of your peace."

To that one, a sensible God might respond, "OK, doofus, go forth and become an instrument; just don't expect a celestial zap that will turn you into one. Same goes for feeding the hungry, clothing the naked and comforting the afflicted. Just do it, fool."

Illuminating the Underground Railroad

Doug Jones, self-described "last man standing" within Iowa's decade-long Iowa Freedom Trail Grant Project, condensed so much information into his relatively brief program at First Presbyterian Church Monday evening that it seems unfair to focus on Lucas County --- but this is Lucas County, after all.

And Lucas County, along with Wayne, are the two counties in Iowa's southern two tiers where few if any traces of Underground Railroad activity have been found --- yet.

Doug's colleague, Doug Hamilton (left), drove up from his home at Fairfield to sit in on the program and shared the good news that the Jefferson County Genealogical Society has offered to provide an online home for some results of Freedom Trail research (state funding needed to make this material accessible is lacking). That should ease the path for future researchers and I'm anxious to explore some of the material Hamilton already has posted.

It also turns out that  Hamilton is a shape note singer --- something I found almost as interesting as the Underground Railroad (well, maybe not). But Lucas County is in desperate need of shape note singing. If we can't have the Underground Railroad, at the least we could have that. Doug tried out the acoustics of First Presbyterian (we should have asked him to sing earlier), but sadly didn't promise to return.

Doug Jones asked the audience early in the presentation how we might explain the apparent lack of activity in Lucas and Wayne. Bill Marner would have earned the door prize, if there had been one, by suggesting that more of our early settlers here than elsewhere had roots in southern states where abolitionist sympathies were lacking.

That southern element certainly can be noted in Wayne County, but is not so evident in Lucas County until you start thinking about our Indiana, southern Illinois and other border roots. The senior members of many of our Indiana families, for example, originated in Kentucky, Tennessee, the Carolinas and Virginia. Some of my Lucas County ancestors came to here from southern Illinois during the early 1850s, but had lived before that in Kentucky --- where they did own slaves. Another family branch came to Wayne County from Virginia --- and had owned slaves there.

Beyond that, Jones pointed out, the denominations most closely identified with abolitionist activity --- Quaker, Congregational and to a lesser extent Wesleyan and Free Methodist --- were not widely represented in Lucas County, or Wayne.

Nor did any of the abolitionist firebrands who moved to Iowa specifically to assist freedom seekers from Missouri locate here, as they did for example in Appanoose County --- a hotbed of Underground Railroad activity.

None of this means that there wasn't Underground Railroad activity, Jones pointed out --- only that efforts to explore more thoroughly need to be undertaken. That would involve collecting, researching and thinking about the few scattered rumors of activity that do exist --- involving the Last Chance, LaGrange and the Norwood areas, for example. A route he suggested, too, was considering the associations between potential activists in Lucas County and known activists in other part of the state. So here's a project just wating to be scooped up and carried forward.

A couple of other things I found interesting. Jones pointed out that male abolitionists tend to get all the glory. But Underground Railroad activity was very much a family affair because freedom seekers had to be housed and fed and otherwise supported in many ways. So women and children were important elements of the network, too.

Also interesting was his graphic illustrating the degree of interest in abolitionist activities in Iowa. The largest circle --- the one that probably included a majority of Iowans who thought about such things, encompassed the anti-slavery crowd --- opposed to slavery, but unlikely to do much about it.

At the center, was a very small circle of equal-rights activists --- those who believed that freedom seekers were entitled to the same rights as their white brothers and sisters and who, in addition to working toward universal abolition, were willing to put their livelihoods (and in some cases lives) on the line to help slaves reach freedom, even to promote insurrection.

The legendary John Brown, who made five trips across Iowa prior to his disastrous 1859 attempt to seize the U.S. Arsenal at Harpers Ferry, Virginia, is an extreme example of the latter. Some of the training for the Harpers Ferry raid was carried out in Iowa, Jones pointed out.

Much information about the Underground Railroad in Iowa and elsewhere is available online. You can read my entries about Henderson Lewelling and Salem, here; and about the George B. Hitchcock house at Lewis, here.

Learn more about the Underground Railroad tonight

The Underground Railroad in Iowa will be the topic of a public meeting at First Presbyterian Church in Chariton this evening, sponsored by the Lucas County Genealogical Society and co-sponsored by the Lucas County Historical Society. Doors will open at 6 p.m. and the program will begin at approximately 6:30 p.m. Admission is free.

Guest speaker will be Doug Jones, archaeologist and project manager of the Iowa Freedom Trail Grant Project, which will conclude during September when funding expires after more than a decade of work.

Most are aware I think that the Underground Railroad was a network of people and routes that from roughly 1839 until 1861 helped slaves who had escaped bondage in the South reach relative safety in the North or assured safety in Canada.

An extensive network developed in the four tiers of southern Iowa counties, adjacent to the slave state of Missouri. Activity began in southeast Iowa during territorial days, then spread west --- accelerating in southwest Iowa after passage of the 1854 Kansas-Nebraska Act.

The Iowa Freedom Trail project commenced with a legislative mandate a decade ago and will end formally this fall, although research and development is expected to continue. One result of the project will be a new book, Necessary Courage, authored by retired project manager Lowell J. Soike and published by University of Iowa Press.

If you look carefully at the map above (right click and open in a new window to see more clearly), developed by John Zeller, an historian for the project and the State Historical Society of Iowa, you'll note that Lucas and Wayne counties are the only "blank" counties in Iowa's southern three tiers. I'm sure we'll hear more about that as well as additional research that may provide an explanation --- or clues about actual Underground Railroad activity here.

The meeting also will give guests an opportunity to explore First Prebyterian, recently refreshed with a new roof and wiring and one of Chariton's architectural treasures. If the sun is shining --- as it is supposed to be today --- the sanctuary with its walls of stained glass and stained glass dome overhead should be one of the most beautiful places to be in town this evening, too. The church is located a block east of the northeast corner of the square. So please join us!

Well fed, bogged down

Here's Mother's Day lunch with Mary Ellen down along the South Chariton Sunday: (from left) Kim, R.C., Jan, Mary Ellen, Bobby, Jane and my chair. Great lunch.

The walk in the woods that followed, however, will have to wait for another day.

 Here's a suggestion: When confronted by a bog don't appoint a guy the size of R.C. pathfinder. He skimmed; we sank. Two people lost shoes, It was ugly. Now I have to go do laundry (and clean my boots).

Mother's Day

I'll be having lunch with some other orphans today and we'll probably talk a little about our mothers, since it is Mothers Day after all and we all had one --- at the least.

This is mine, sandwiched between her younger and older brothers, Richard and Joe. The photo was taken about this time of year on the farm where I grew up south of Russell.

Sometimes character can be assessed as much on the basis of what isn't remembered as what is. For example, I do not remember my mother ever raising her voice in anger or striking anyone or any thing (including me). She did kill snakes that invaded her garden, however, and cold-bloodedly beheaded chickens bound for the cooking pot.

Nor do I remember her ever demeaning anyone individually or collectively on any basis, including race, religion, politics and sexual orientation.

She never complained so far as I can remember --- ever. I cannot imagine how she managed that.

I don't recall that she ever quoted a Bible verse or used that weighty volume as a basis to chastise or proselytize --- although she left behind a worn out King James version. She merely lived relevant passages.

My mother was brave, honorable, gentle, smart, patient and unwaveringly kind --- a good cook, a master gardener and highly skilled with needle and thread. And she always voted Democrat. Blessed be.

Mary and Harry Finley --- and their fence

We got to talking at the library yesterday about Mary Finley and her infant son, Harry, whose graves in the far northwest corner of the Chariton Cemetery intrigue many who drive by (or stop to take a closer look). The wrought iron fence that surrounds their tombstone is the attention-grabber. And these are by Lucas County standards very old graves.

According to the inscription on the stone, it marks the graves of "Mary, Wife of Henry Finley & Daughter of J.W. Stanbery of Ohio, Died June 18, 1857, in her 22nd Year" and "Also their son, Harry, Died Aug. 11, 1857, Aged 6 Mo."

A little online research turns up the information that Mary Jones Stanbery, born Jan. 13, 1834, was a daughter of Jacob Wycoff Stanbery (1805-1875) and his first wife, Eliza Jones (1805-1844), who lived in Deerfield Township, Morgan County, Ohio. Jacob was a charter member of the Deerfield Township Anti-Slavery Society and their home, reportedly a stop on the Underground Railroad.

Mary Stanbery and Henry Finley were married June 4, 1856, in Morgan County, and must have set out either that fall or early the following spring for Lucas County. They were not enumerated in the 1856 state census of Lucas County, which suggests spring 1857 arrival.  Harry would have been their only child.

Upon arrival in Lucas County, they reportedly settled just west of what now is Derby (a place not even dreamed of then) on the high prairies of Union Township.

Not long before Mary and Henry were married in Ohio, Dr. Thomas Morford Throckmorton, then a small boy, had stepped off a stage coach in Chariton about noon on April 16, 1856, with his mother and two siblings. His father, John, was some days behind, hauling from Keokuk (where the family had arrived by riverboat from Wheeling, (West) Virginia, a few days earlier) with team and wagon the family's household goods.

By the time the Finleys arrived in Union Township, the Throckmortons already had established their home there in a double log cabin.

Writing many years later, during 1907, about those early days, Dr. Tom reminisced briefly about Mary Finley: "One more name I wish to mention, Henry Finlay (sic): when last heard of he was in California. He came from Ohio with his young wife who lived with us while they built a house on the prairie just west of Derby. She died within the year, and now is sleeping with her young babe in the Chariton Cemetery. Perhaps you have noticed the lone grave with an iron fence about it in the northwest corner of the cemetery; well, this is Mrs. Finlay's grave, the woman who was so cheerful, so kind to my mother, and won my boyish heart; she peacefully rests there, a martyr to the new country, waiting the resurrection and the gathering home of friends from far and near, yes, from the remotest parts of the earth." (The original typescript of Dr. Throckmorton's memoir is in the Lucas County Historical Society collection.)

It's not clear how Mary and her baby came to be buried in Chariton, a considerable distance (in 1857 miles) from Union Township. It may be that Henry brought the bodies here so that they could be interred in a more settled place, or perhaps Mary had been brought to Chariton for treatment during her final illness and died here. Some have speculated that she was buried first near her prairie cabin home, then reburied later in Chariton, also possible.

We do know that she was buried first in the original Chariton Cemetery, located on the Columbus School hill just a half block northwest of where I'm sitting and typing now.

Seventy years after Mary's death, brief mention of the Finley graves was made in a Chariton Herald-Patriot (June 7, 1928) article about various issues the cemetery was dealing with at that time. "As a matter of fact," according to that article, "the bodies were not buried where they now lie in the '50's, but near the present west (Columbus) school building. Later they were removed and on their second removal came to the graves which now house their remains."

The current Chariton Cemetery was developed ca. 1863 in part because of a need to relocate the graves in the earlier burial ground, by then surrounded by homes and with little room for expansion. Once developed, remains were moved from the old cemetery to the new and Chariton's first substantial school building constructed on the old cemetery site.

The current location of the Finley graves suggests that no family members were on hand to supervise their relocation --- it is not the most desirable spot in the cemetery. Henry Finley seems to have moved on prior to 1860. There would, after all, be little to hold him here after his wife and child had died. In addition, the current tombstone --- and the iron fence --- date from considerably later than the 1850s.

The 1928 article hints at what may have happened: "For a long time the cemetery board wondered who Mary Finley's relatives might be, then one day a stranger came to Chariton and asked Mr. Lamb (cemetery superintendent) if he could take him to the grave of Mary Finley. He could and did, and he was curious to learn something of the relatives who had dropped out of everyone's recollection. The stranger told him Mary Finley left her old home with her young husband and went west. Iowa was west then. Here she died and was buried. That was in the spring. In August the baby followed the mother in death. J.W. Stansbury, was once the governor of Ohio (this is not true, FDM). Through the visit of the stranger, relatives were notified of her grave and the care fee for the graves and from back east came money sufficient to take care of the graves of the two for evermore."

It seems likely that this "stranger," probably a member of the Ohio Stanbery family, also commissioned the current tombstone and the iron fence --- near the turn of the 20th century. What became of Henry Finley, I can't say.

That iron fence had a close call late in the 20th century after complaints from the cemetery maintenance crew that its spikes were hazards and also prevented lawnmower access. The fence was removed.

Then Jim Steinbach complained and Ron Chirstensen's assistance was called for. He crafted (without charge) hinges for one of the fence's panels so that it could be opened for grave maintenance and it was returned to its original location.

So now, as Memorial Day approaches, Mary, Harry --- and their fence --- continue to rest in peace in the Chariton Cemetery.