Not many people know I’m on the cemetery committee of the Brentwood Historic Commission. I saw an article in the paper about this group and how they were on a mission to document with GPS the location of all the remaining family cemeteries in Brentwood before developers turn all the old farms into subdivisions.
I don’t know why it sounded like fun to me, but I knew instantly I wanted to help do this. I had never even seen an old family cemetery besides the ones you can spot from the road, and I had no idea there were so many in this town.
If you think about it, in the 1800s and early 1900s, where else would country folks bury their relatives but on family land? This was definitely the country, and parts of it still are. But with all the residential and commercial growth in Williamson County over the past 20 years, making a permanent digital record of these plots has become urgent.
In our old neighborhood, there was a historic cemetery in another home’s side yard. As a newlywed, this used to freak me out. Since a few of my grandparents have passed away over the past several years, though, I guess I have grown to value the idea of the final resting place even more.
It’s fascinating to see a 150-year-old cemetery with eight or nine members of the same family buried together under a massive oak tree out in the middle of the woods. Some of these have been fenced by builders and cared for by descendants, while others are buried under shrubbery, used by the homeowners as a place to toss yard trimmings or store firewood.
I don’t know why it sounded like fun to me, but I knew instantly I wanted to help do this. I had never even seen an old family cemetery besides the ones you can spot from the road, and I had no idea there were so many in this town.
If you think about it, in the 1800s and early 1900s, where else would country folks bury their relatives but on family land? This was definitely the country, and parts of it still are. But with all the residential and commercial growth in Williamson County over the past 20 years, making a permanent digital record of these plots has become urgent.
In our old neighborhood, there was a historic cemetery in another home’s side yard. As a newlywed, this used to freak me out. Since a few of my grandparents have passed away over the past several years, though, I guess I have grown to value the idea of the final resting place even more.
It’s fascinating to see a 150-year-old cemetery with eight or nine members of the same family buried together under a massive oak tree out in the middle of the woods. Some of these have been fenced by builders and cared for by descendants, while others are buried under shrubbery, used by the homeowners as a place to toss yard trimmings or store firewood.
The fun part of the job is the hunt for a cemetery we’ve heard about but not plotted yet. A man who lives in Southern Woods, one of the largest neighborhoods on the Williamson/Davidson county line, took us on a hike through a wooded area on his property, which is on one of the main roads. After about five minutes on a “trail,” he said, “Oh, here it is,” and we came upon several tall headstones standing among the trees. In the filtered sun, it was beautiful. All I could do for a minute was wonder how the family got to that hilltop spot with a coffin in a horse-drawn wagon. I considered the difficult job of carrying the heavy stone markers up the ridge and felt pretty lazy in comparison to that generation.
I’ve also learned a ton about history and geology and religion: how granite is better for headstones because it’s an igneous rock that won’t let in water. Of course, it wasn’t available in this area back then, so most of this area’s limestone and marble tombstones are breaking down. How much of the stone in this area was from Louisville, St. Louis and Cincinnati because it was easier to float the stone down river than haul it upriver from quarries in Georgia. Of course, this changed, like everything, during the Civil War. How spring is a great time to search for unmarked graves because the surviving family usually planted daffodils and periwinkle on top to encourage growth over the newly turned dirt. How, in the Judeo-Christian tradition, people were buried on their backs, with their feet facing east so that when Christ returned, all the dead would rise and walk toward the east to meet Him.
I’m attaching some of the more intriguing photos from our hunts so far. One of my favorites shows a tree growing around a headstone from 1827. It shows how time won’t let anything manmade last forever, but we can work to keep what we value around as long as we can.
I’ve also learned a ton about history and geology and religion: how granite is better for headstones because it’s an igneous rock that won’t let in water. Of course, it wasn’t available in this area back then, so most of this area’s limestone and marble tombstones are breaking down. How much of the stone in this area was from Louisville, St. Louis and Cincinnati because it was easier to float the stone down river than haul it upriver from quarries in Georgia. Of course, this changed, like everything, during the Civil War. How spring is a great time to search for unmarked graves because the surviving family usually planted daffodils and periwinkle on top to encourage growth over the newly turned dirt. How, in the Judeo-Christian tradition, people were buried on their backs, with their feet facing east so that when Christ returned, all the dead would rise and walk toward the east to meet Him.
I’m attaching some of the more intriguing photos from our hunts so far. One of my favorites shows a tree growing around a headstone from 1827. It shows how time won’t let anything manmade last forever, but we can work to keep what we value around as long as we can.
1 comment:
One of these times you're going out Cemetery'in', especially in Bretnwood, hollah at me. I'm weird that way masef.
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