Tip Toe through the Headstones

When the genealogy bug bites you, you never know just how far it will take you and the things you will do and learn a long the way.  Our family members know that town clerk offices, libraries, and cemeteries are amusement parks to us.

So a few years ago while researching my mother’s family tree, our journey took us to Warsaw, Missouri. 

My mother and I first visited one of the local cemeteries so I could take pictures of our ancestors headstones.  My mother along with our cousin Ruth stood on the outer perimeter of the cemetery while I walked up and down every row of headstones, reading the inscriptions and snapping pictures.

The cemetery was old and many of its head stones dated back to the early 1800s.  The ground in some areas was uneven, and sunken in other areas leaving many headstones leaning or knocked over.  There was one headstone that I took an interest in, the date of death was in the mid 1700s and it was partially leaning over.  Although not an ancestor, I wanted a picture of the headstone because it was so pretty.

So I tried to position myself close to the headstone on the uneven ground to get a good picture.  The ground felt very soft, but it wasn’t wet so I thought it would be fine to stand directly in front of the headstone to get a good shot.  As I was lining up the picture I suddenly felt my right leg sink just beyond my knee in the ground.  In what seemed like forever, I had visions of something or someone pulling my leg into the ground, or worse that my toes might touch something squishy.  Logically I knew that wasn’t going to happen, but what is it about cemeteries and graves that can give even the biggest bravest person goose bumps?

I was scrambling to get my leg out of this hole, and the more I pulled the more it seemed to feel tight which only lead to my mind now thinking of every Stephen King movie I had seen.  I finally got my leg out and looking around I see my mother and Ruth standing there oblivious to my Stephen King moment.  I dusted off my leg and continued walking up and down the rows, this time not so close to the headstones and staying on even ground.

As the trip continued I didn’t think anything could top my moment of falling into a grave … boy was I wrong.  Ruth so kindly arranged for us to go on to the property of a local that owned the land that my ancestors once owned and where the old family cemetery plot was still standing.

It was the middle of summer in Missouri, hot and we were in the middle of high brush and scrub.  I was dressed in shorts; tennis shoes and t-shirt as was my mother and Ruth warned us that they have these little ticks called seed ticks that get everywhere so be careful.

I honesty don’t think we were thinking of those little seed ticks, after all we lived in Texas where the ticks are the size of beetles.  We were more interested in seeing these old family graves and headstones.  

After hours of moving brush around to get pictures of the headstones and trying to identify all the family members buried there we returned to Ruth’s house.  We were hot and dusty and suddenly starting remembering those seed ticks.  My mother now was convinced that there must be some on her so she took a shower.

They say that when it’s your loved ones that there isn’t anything we wouldn’t do for them. So not true!  I found the limit to which I would not go for my mother.  After she got out of the shower she was convinced she might have a seed tick in a rather private area, and she informed me I needed to look.

It was in that moment that I knew I found my limit.  She will not be going with me again!

But my quest for genealogy will go on … just maybe a little more careful about uneven ground and Missouri in the summer.