Edgar Allen Poe House (Baltimore, Maryland)
Edgar Allen Poe once lived in this house in Baltimore. Thanks to LadyLazarusIII for the suggestion.
Edgar Allan Poe House
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Category Archives: United States
Myrtles Plantation
Myrtles Plantation (St. Francisville, Louisiana)
Robert recommends this site: “Built on an Indian graveyard, it is haunted by 7 apparitions.”
Saint Louis Cemetery Number One
Saint Louis Cemetery Number One (New Orleans, Louisiana)
3421 Esplanade Ave
New Orleans, Louisiana
March 7, 2002
Of course, I always do my research before I travel anywhere, so I knew that it was ill-advised to travel alone in either of the French Quarter-area cemeteries (St. Louis #1 or #2). In fact, I knew that you were advised to stick with a tour group in St. Louis #1, and I don’t even know if tours occur at all in St. Louis #2. You see, both cemeteries are adjacent to some nasty projects (in fact, St. Louis #2 is right in the MIDDLE of the projects) and because most New Orleans graves are held in above-ground tombs (which I’ll get into more detail about later), the cemeteries are filled with lots of blind alleys, just perfect for mugging unsuspecting tourists. So, I was a bit wary about exploring the cemetery alone. However, when we arrived the first day, there were a large number of tourists there, and it didn’t seem particularly dangerous. So, we took our chances and wandered in.
Founded in 1789, St. Louis Cemetery #1 on Rampart Street is the oldest existing cemetery in the city. Near the front gate is the most famous of all the graves in the cemetery: the final resting spot of Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen (1794-1881). What exactly does a voodoo queen do, you might ask? Well, the usual stuff: leading rituals, telling fortunes, giving advice on love, and preparing custom gris-gris for anyone needing to effect a cure, charm, or hex. (Personally, I think she was the original Hypemaster, more than anything else.)
But who am I to doubt dear Marie? Here people are still putting offerings and drawing little X’s all over her grave over 100 years after her death. She obviously still has some major drawing power! If she’s buried there, that is… rumor has it that this is the grave of a different Marie Laveau. Now, what sort of town loses their Voodoo Queen??? Well, I suppose it would be an intoxicated, absinthe-hazed town like New Orleans…
(Incidentally, if you’re into the whole Voodoo aspect of New Orleans, you’ll want to be sure to visit the Voodoo Museum. I didn’t have time to get there this time around, unfortunately.)
After spending a few quality moments with some Marie Laveau or other, we decided to commence wandering aimlessly through the cemetery. I noticed there was some quite lovely old ironwork on some of the graves. There were also some nice iron crosses on top of the crypts. One thing I can say about New Orleans, in general, is that the ironwork is superb!
I suppose now is as good a time as any to discuss the unique aspects of New Orleans cemeteries and funeral customs. Of course, the most unique thing about the New Orleans “Cities of the Silent” is that the graves are interred in crypts above-ground. This isn’t done for aesthetic reasons, but practical ones. You see, the water table in New Orleans is extremely high, so when the original settlers tried burying their dead the convential way, they kept coming back from the grave. The caskets would literally float and pop-up out of the ground, which would make for a MOST interesting cemetery stroll for those of us with a morbid nature, but is somewhat less enticing to the general public.
So, the policy of keeping the dead above ground came into vogue out of necessity. The societies (ie. groups of individuals with a common profession, ethnicity, or creed) and the rich have their own fancy shmancy tombs (such as this society tomb entitled “Italia”) , but most families have simple, economical vaults that are stacked one on top of the other. The most fascinating part of the whole thing is that the bodies that are placed in the crypts are “naturally” cremated. You see, the temperature inside the crypt on hot summer days reaches incredible heights – enough to turn most of a human into ash (barring the odd femur here and there). In fact, there is a fascinating ritual that surrounds the placement of the body in the tombs, and it goes a little like this:
Generally, a family will own a few compartments within a tomb. Whenever someone in the family dies, there are placed into one of the empty compartments and it is bricked up for one year and one day. This is the traditional Judeo-Christian mourning period. After exactly one year and one day, the compartment is opened, and the cremains are dumped into a communal pit at the bottom of the tomb. And there the remains further decay, in that old “ashes to ashes, dust to dust” sort of way.
(Of course, I couldn’t help but think… what if you despised your father? Or your Aunt Edna? Or Cousin Charlie? And here you were, dumped into a pit with them for all eternity! Molecule touching molecule. Oh, the horror!!!)
But I digress…
Another interesting thing about this custom is what happens if you run out of room in the family tomb. Let’s say there’s a car crash and your brother and sister are both killed on January 7th, so they are bricked-up in two of the four compartments in your family tomb. Then, on March 24th, Grandma finally kicks the bucket. She goes into the third compartment. On April 27th, Grandpa is overcome by grief and puts his head in an oven. Now, he goes into the fourth compartment. Then, on July 16th, you come down with a fatal case of impetigo (who knows, it could happen). There’s no room for you – all the compartments are filled. Where do you go?
Well, the answer is that you rent a unit until January 9th of the next year when brother and sister are dumped into the family cistern. And where are the rental units? Why, they are built into the walls of the cemetery. Talk about an economical use of space!
So, I guess when you live in New Orleans, you don’t get that “burial or cremation” choice that causes arguments at Thanksgiving tables the worldover. I suppose that, in itself, is one of the best things about this custom. Having said that, there are still a few old-fashioned ground graves, for those who just can’t bring themselves to be cremated (like Egyptians), but they are rare. (This one doubles as a convenient location for goth kids to have sex.)
We continued wandering about, admiring the ornate tombs, which actually are few and far between. Really, as far as cemeteries are concerned, St. Louis isn’t that pretty. It has its moments, such as this nifty gravestone with its “angel hovering over newly-deceased actor” carving (eroded as it may be), and the tragic inscriptions that surrounded it:
ELIZA W. LEWIS
WIFE OF
William C. C. Claiborne
governor general of Louisiana
who died at New Orleans
the 27th day of Sept. 1804
at the age of 20
And, even more tragically:
Also
CORNELIA TENNESSEE CLAIBORNE
the only child of
Eliza W. Claiborne
who died on the same day
aged three years
And, finally:
“Here also rests the body of
MICAJAH GREEN LEWIS
brother of Eliza W. Claiborne
and private Secretary to Governor Claiborne
who fell in a duel
Febry 14th 1805
in the 25th year of his age.”
However, apart from those, and the city-like novelty of the above-ground tombs, there wasn’t a lot that held my interest in the cemetery. Many of the inscriptions are in French, which also can be frustrating when your français is a oui bit rusty like mienne. But for that special old-world Voodoo Queen/Vampire Lestat ambiance, it cannot be beat.
VISITOR CONTRIBUTIONS
Steve’s Flickr Page
“I ran across your St. Louis No. 1 cemetery photos and travelogue. I enjoyed them both. Thought you might appreciate that I’ll be buried there myself at the appropriate time. Here are some photos I took on All Saints Day in 2005. It was the first time the cemetery was opened after Katrina. While we were exiled in the days after the storm, we could see from the aerial photos on the internet that the cemetery had flooded, and read somewhere that it only got a foot or so of water.
“There was no damage we could see, however. Not even a water line on the family tomb. I don’t know whether they cleaned it up or whether the water just didn’t get that high. Someone used the space between two tombs next to ours as a shelter, putting a blanket over some sticks running from the roofs of the tombs, almost like a kid’s fort. The normal amount of junk was scattered around what may or may not be Marie Laveaux’s tomb, and someone left a stuffed Tasmanian Devil doll right across from it. Photos at the link below.
“I think your tour guide might have been carried away somewhat. It does get Africa hot in New Orleans but not hot enough to actually cremate remains. The decomposition process is accelerated if the body is not embalmed, though. A great uncle who died of yellow fever in Panama in 1917 was shipped home in a sealed steel coffin and placed in the upper vault. When my grandfather died in 1971, my grandmother had to petition the archdiocese and fill out forms with the Board of Health to have the steel coffin opened and the remains removed to make way for him. My grandmother died in 1985 and is the last one to be buried in our tomb.”
http://www.flickr.com/photos/steve_o3/sets/1270320/
Anyone have any additional stories, tidbits or photos to add?
If so, by all means, write me!
New Orleans Pharmacy Museum
New Orleans Pharmacy Museum (New Orleans, Louisiana)
514 Chartres Street
New Orleans, Louisiana
March 7, 2002
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One of the lesser known, but still rather interesting, sites to see in New Orleans is the Pharmacy Museum. The museum is housed in a vintage 1850’s apothecary that has beautiful mahogany cabinets and an interesting collection of 19th century medicine. Although there really isn’t a whole lot to see for your $5.00, if you’re interested in 19th century medicine, it’s a must. One of the highlights of the pharmacy is this wonderful 1855 soda fountain. From the museum’s website: “Soda fountains originated in pharmacies in the 1830’s. Pharmacists would mix phosphates and flavorings with bitter tasting medicines to make them more palatable. Eventually customers wanted the drinks without the medicine, hence the development of soft drinks. Crushed ice and salt were used to cool the mineral, soda and seltzer waters which were dispensed through brass faucets to create a nectar soda or the fruit phosphates favored by New Orleanians of that time.” The mahogany cabinets, filled with vintage medications, are amazing too. They don’t make things like this anymore! But the real fun is in the details – reading the outlandish, completely medically unproven pronouncements on the boxes and bottles, and looking at some of the grim collection of early pharmaceutical supplies. I was especially fond of the lead nipple shields: “Nipple shields were produced in lead, pewter and silver as early as 1820. The lead shields were advertised as soothing to the mother’s breast through the creation of lead lactate.” Say what??? Notice the baby bottle with the lead nipple too. “Prior to the invention of rubber or plastic, lead was used in the manufacture of baby nipples. The sweet taste of lead would encourage the child to feed, however, the long-term affects of lead poisoning were not understood. Prolonged exposure to lead may cause loss of appetite, headache, anaemia, vomiting, incoordination, paralysis, elevated blood pressure, cranial nerve paralysis, convulsions, and coma.” Ah, the good old days! |
Anyone have any additional stories, tidbits or photos to add?
If so, by all means, write me!
Mine Creek Battlefield
Mine Creek Battlefield (Pleasanton, Kansas)
Per the website, “In October 1864, Federal forces attacked the retreating Confederate Army along the banks of Mine Creek. One of the largest cavalry engagements of the Civil War, Mine Creek was the only major battle fought in Kansas. This dramatic story comes alive in the visitor center where you will see Civil War era uniforms, weapons and photographs. Walk the trails for an up-close look at the battlefield.”
Marais des Cygnes Massacre Site
Marais des Cygnes Massacre Site (Pleasanton, Kansas)
Per the website, “In May 1858, proslavery men gunned down 11 free-state men in a ravine that is now this important landmark. The shootings shocked the nation and became a pivotal event in the Bleeding Kansas era. Take a drive through this now beautiful natural setting and experience the site through outdoor exhibits.”
John Brown Museum State Historic Site
John Brown Museum State Historic Site (Osawatomie, Kansas)
Riley thinks this museum might be worth a visit, since John Brown had some bloody abolitionist business in Kansas.
The Garden Of Eden
The Garden Of Eden (Lucas, Kansas)
A Comtesse travelogue to see the glass-covered tomb of a true American Eccentric!
The Garden Of Eden
Lucas, KS
May 20, 2005
| Samuel Dinsmoor was an eccentric Civil War veteran who built his vision of the Bible out of concrete in the tiny town of Lucas, Kansas. His labor of love was created from 1910 to 1930. Which is all good and well, but this is the morbid sightseer, after all, and the real reason why anyone of morbid disposition should wish to visit the Garden Of Eden is to see old Samuel himself: in his self-built mausoleum, behind glass. Dinsmoor is alleged to have said, “I promise everyone that comes in to see me (they can look through the glass lid of the coffin and see my face) that if I see them dropping a dollar in the hands of a flunky, and I see the dollar, I will give them a smile.” As B. Amundson states, “The coffin is not airtight, so the smile will not endure forever. See it while there’s still a grin on Dinsmoor’s crumbling face.”Therefore it should come as no surprise that when I was assigned the unenviable task of having to work in Topeka, Kansas (ie. The Dullest Spot On Earth) for several weeks in 2005, the first gleeful thought that came to mind was that I’d actually have a chance to view Samuel’s moldy old face. Of course, I’d have to wait until the weekend and I’d have to drive over two hours to get there, but hopefully I’d be able to bring back some lovely photographs of the crypt to make it worth my while.Unfortunately, as with most great things, this one did not quite come to fruition. Although I did make it to the Garden of Eden and I did get to see Samuel in all his moldering glory, I was not allowed to take photographs inside the crypt. You know, “out of respect for Mr. Dinsmoor”. Whatever! He’s the one who put himself on display for all eternity!! Annoyance, you are a cruel bedfellow indeed! So, it is with an apologetic heart that I present to you this photo gallery of The Garden Of Eden, missing its most fascinating feature. Hopefully, there is enough mental instability to be found to make up for it!It was a brutally hot Saturday when I arrived in Lucas, Kansas (aka The Middle Of Nowhere, population 436). I parked down the street from the Garden Of Eden and as I walked up towards the house, I could see the insanity all around me. It’s really hard to miss – especially since there is nothing else to see in Lucas. The first thing I passed was the crypt containing Samuel himself. Kinda looks like an unfinished pyramid, doesn’t it? The inscription on this side of the crypt is for Dinsmoor’s wife. She must have been touched.I then caught my first glimpse of the crazy cement statuary that Dinsmoor created. At first glance, it’s hard to understand exactly what he was trying to represent with his wacko figures, such as this wolf or coyote or something barking up a tree or this Native American taking aim, and something like this just screams schizophrenia. But I was sure that the tour guide would explain it all to me, and make figures like this one take on significance. However, even after taking the guided tour, I can’t say I understand it much better. Of course, that could have something to do with my very shaky memory…We met for the tour inside the cabin that Dinsmoor constructed. The walls were covered with some portraits of old Sammy and his first wife. And I think this is a family portrait with his second wife, who was 20 years old when he was 81. Lucky old coot, eh? But he had a way with the ladies, as you can tell by this picture with its caption, “Dinsmoor showed his flair for showmanship by marrying his first wife on this horse, August 24, 1870.” Now, that’s a honeymoon stallion!The furnishings inside the house were rather threadbare and creepy, such as the chair made from pieces of dead animals and the like, but there were some interesting old pieces of artwork to be seen as well. I thought the best piece of furniture in the house (if you call it that) was this fireplace near the gift shop. We also got to see the room in which Mr. Dinsmoor died in 1932. Look, there’s the bed that he croaked on! I could almost feel his creepy old face scowling at me as I took the pictures.
And look – there’s the toilet where he once sat! (Okay, maybe not, but maybe that bathtub was there when he was alive.) Here’s the room that I would have wanted when I was a kid – the attic! Something about those slanty walls just makes me all nostalgic for Grandma’s old house in Duluth. Ah, I can almost hear Grandpa yelling at me for sliding the bed across the floor now. Those were the days. Be careful, don’t get vertigo! We’re going downstairs. Nice wood work, isn’t it? The stair railings, along with this door, were handmade by Mr. Dinsmoor himself. Talented guy, eh? And you haven’t seen the half of it yet. I quite liked the kitchen with its old stove. They don’t make them like that anymore. Every now and again my old digital camera would act up and take bizarre photos, but I always liked to pretend that it’s because there was a ghost on the premises. So, given that concept, let’s welcome the ghost of Samuel Dinsmoor to the room! Oooh, creepy! Possibly even more creepy was the barbed wire collection. But, then again, this is Kansas, so what did I expect? I don’t remember what the story was with this gun cabinet, but it sure fit in nicely with the barbed wire, don’t you think? Before leaving the house, we passed through this wonderfully creepy old basement storage area with a curved roof that had some wicked looking hooks sticking out of it. Of course, I don’t need to tell you where my mind went while wandering through this room. Of course, the official explanation was: “The ‘arched cave’ was used for storing home canned food and cured meats. It also served as a storm cellar against tornadoes.” Mmm-hmmm… and what else? Funny how they never tell you the full story in these tours. With this, we left the arched cave and went back up the stairs to the first floor. We passed a 343-piece chess table made by S. P. Dinsmoor and I thought, “Okay, so now we know what he did on rainy days.” But it was time to let the sun shine on his outdoor creations! Samuel Dinsmoor was a folk artist extraordinaire. If he’d lived in Georgia in the ’80’s, he would have been friends with Michael Stipe, for he was definitely the Reverend Howard Finster of his time. His specialty was sculpture and his medium was concrete – not exactly the finest of materials. But he did a very good job with what he had to work with. He was ever-so-innovative too! He used bottles to create these decorative arches on the porch. You’d never guess it, would you? 😉 He even signed the cabin, so no one would forget whose handiwork it was! The first sculpture I saw up close was this very nice deer. You can see that it was originally painted brown, but a lot of the paint is worn off. This is true of all of the sculptures. The sculptures are supposed to be representations of Dinsmoor’s religious and populist political beliefs, but I don’t remember the explanations for most of them, so I might as well just let the pictures speak for themselves. Enjoy Dinsmoor’s dementia!
I could probably end my story here, but I thought I’d share a few more strange things that I stumbled across on my drive across Kansas back to Topeka. Coming from a pretty non-religious part of the country, I get a kick out of the Olde Tyme Religion that is on display on the backroads in places like this. Therefore, I had to stop and take a couple of shots of these great signs on display in front of this tiny old wooden church in Lucas. It’s almost like they were written just for me!
Lest we forget that we are in Kansas, I passed by a sign proclaiming Lucas to be the hometown of the 2002 International PedalPull Champ, Amanda Steinle. I took a picture to remind myself to Google “Pedal Pull” when I got home to see what in the hell it is. Turns out it’s pretty much what it sounds like – pulling carts with a pedal tractor. Yes, they actually have competitions for this! What a wacky world… Update 7/25/13: I received the following e-mail from Amanda herself!
Thanks for writing, Amanda! Although culturally Kansas may be a wasteland, it does offer some very scenic views and I stumbled across some picturesque homestead ruins that I had to explore on my way home. Here, then, are a few more shots of my Kansas cross-country tour:
And then I was back in Topeka again, happy that I’d taken the time to get to know crazy old Samuel a little bit better. Special thanks to Christopher Gabbert for suggesting this site! |
| Eleanor offers the following summary of her trip to the Garden Of Eden: “I am thrilled to be able to report to you that I made a pilgrimage to the Garden of Eden and gazed upon Sam Dinsmoor’s face, or what is left of it. It was in 1988. A morbid fear of flying (I dearly love aircrash.com) kept me on the ground for many years, and I lost count of the number of times I crossed the country by car. I’d heard about the Garden of Eden, and Dinsmoor’s glass-topped coffin with the jug of water in it all ready for the Resurrection Day, but you have to make a fairly serious 25-mile detour off of I-70 to get there, and on several trips I had actually passed the exit that takes you there. When you’re crossing Kansas, you pretty much want to stick to business and get it behind you. This time, though, a friend and I were in his great big V-8 Oldsmobile, roaring along, heading west, when I realized we were getting close to that exit (just about exactly in the center of the state). We debated. Should we? Shouldn’t we? Yes? No? Were we too late? It was a September evening. The sun had already gone down, but there was still a fair amount of light. They’ll be closed, we told each other, it’ll be a big waste of time. We’re tired. There’s still so much of Kansas to go. But when that exit came up, my friend, who was driving, made the decision and swung off the interstate. He floored the Olds and we were in Lucas in about twenty minutes. We prowled around the completely nondescript streets in the fading light. It didn’t take us long to find it. Imagine a perfectly ordinary midwestern town of normal houses and yards, total nowheresville on the prairie flatlands, but right smack in the middle, occupying an entire lot, fortress-like, with a great arching gateway and biblical tableaux and odd statuary, all cast in cement and placed on high platforms up in tall dead trees (Adam and Eve, Lucifer, Cain and Abel, various Indian chiefs), was the Garden of Eden, looking completely deserted. “Not completely. The caretaker was just locking up. There wasn’t another soul in sight. It was twilight by now. ‘Please,’ we said. ‘we drove all the way from New York to see this place.’ An exaggeration, but technically true. ‘Well, I’d sure hate to disappoint you folks,’ he said, and unlocked the door. ‘It’s been a slow day,’ he added. I somehow got the feeling that it had been more than slow–that we were the only visitors at all that day. He gave us the guided tour. It was incredibly cool. Just the three of us–the ‘stone log cabin’ house (also made of cement; the guy was a serious cement freak), the grounds, the tableaux, some of which were political as well as religious — ‘Labor Crucified,’ for instance, with Lawyer, Doctor, Preacher and Banker as the prominent villains. There were at least four American flags made of cement, in permanent mid-ripple. We were working our way to the best part of the tour, what we’d come all this way for, the grand finale, the Mausoleum. We’d glimpsed the outside of it earlier–an elaborate Masonic-style pyramid with many statues and another cement flag on top. It was completely dark by the time we got there. We followed the caretaker up the steps and inside, where he switched on his flashlight and shined it through the heavy plate glass of Dinsmoor’s tomb and the glass window in the lid of his coffin, all of which he’d planned and built himself. And there he was: shrivelled, dessicated, empty black eye sockets, mouth an open concave black hole, scraggly white beard clinging to his dried leather chin. ‘This don’t bother me at all,’ said the caretaker. ‘Nope,’ I said. ‘Me neither.’ And we stood and looked for a little while longer at the very, very dead face of Sam Dinsmoor in the beam of the flashlight. “Worth the trip? Absolutely. “We all know what’s the matter with Kansas. This was an example of what’s dandy in Kansas.” |
Do you have pictures or stories to share regarding The Garden Of Eden?
Please – by all means – WRITE ME!
Davis Memorial
Davis Memorial, Mt. Hope Cemetery (Hiawatha, Kansas)
A Comtesse Travelogue: Visit the statuary-filled memorial that a rich farmer built to his beloved deceased wife!
Mt. Hope Cemetery
Hiawatha, Kansas
May 21, 2005
Once upon a time there was a man named John Wilburn Davis. John moved to Hiawatha, Kansas in 1879 and promptly fell in love with his boss’ daughter, Sarah. Sarah loved John too, but Sarah’s family did not approve. Still, true love won out, and John and Sarah were married.
Years of wedded bliss followed, in which John and Sarah started their own farm and prospered. All was well until Sarah passed away in 1930 at the age of 92 leaving John a lonely, grief-stricken, wealthy man.
John tried to settle on the best way to show his enduring love for Sarah. This was the Depression era, so local townspeople might have hoped that his memorial to Sarah might benefit the community. A memorial hospital, for instance, would be nice.
John, however, had other ideas of how to waste his money, and soon set out to create an extravagant memorial to Sarah. He commissioned a pair of statues, carved by a master Italian craftsman out of famed Carrara, Italy, marble, depicting himself and Sarah at the time of their 50th wedding anniversary. However, when he saw the statues beneath the huge marble canopy, he decided they looked too bare and started commissioning additional statues – depicting the happy couple at various stages in their lives – to keep the first two company.
By the time he finished the entire memorial consisted of 11 life-size statues – some in marble and some in granite – along with a marble canopy and wall. Davis exhausted his entire fortune in constructing the memorial… and some people think that may have been the point since he had no heirs and he hated Sarah’s family and certainly didn’t want any money going to them. However, this sort of backfired on him since he ended up in a poorhouse after a doctor diagnosed him with “terminal” cancer… that ended up taking 10 years to kill him. Remember, kids: don’t give away *all* your money, even if the doctor says you’re not going to need it!
Incidentally, the memorial has amazingly become the biggest attraction in Hiawatha. I say “amazingly” because you know how many other exciting things there are to see in Hiawatha, Kansas (population 3,417).
Of course, it comes as no surprise that when I found myself with a spare weekend to kill in Topeka, Kansas in May, 2005, I decided that instead of simply sleeping the weekend away (which I had done before), I would actually make the hour drive to the Davis Memorial. And this is what I found…
 After an hour of grass and cow sightseeing, I finally found myself at the gates of the Mount Hope Cemetery in the metropolis of Hiawatha. |
 I drove inside and immediately saw the Davis Memorial, which dominates the cemetery. It’s not the prettiest memorial I’ve seen, as Mr. Davis didn’t plan his space out very well and ended up adding too many statues in too small of a plot. (It reminded me a bit of a rather frightening statuary lot I once stumbled across in Augusta, Georgia – and was chased out of for taking pictures.) The wall around the plot is rather cumbersome as well, and hasn’t prevented vandalism to some of the statues (as we’ll see). |
 But you don’t come to a memorial like this looking for artistic balance, do you? There’s a reason this memorial is featured on Roadside America, after all. It’s not just every day that someone will waste so much money on such lovely overkill. These two statues depict the couple as they looked late in their life together. Notice that John is missing his left hand; he lost it to infection in 1908. (Gotta love realism!) |
 Here’s a closer view of Sarah’s full elderly statue. |
 And here’s a closer view of John’s elderly statue. He looks a bit worried, doesn’t he? He must know that Sarah isn’t going to be with him much longer. |
 Here’s a granite statue depicting John at the time of his wife’s demise. Again, the missing hand is rendered in great detail. |
 Sadly, beside John sits the Vacant Chair – the chair in which Sarah would sit had she been alive. Poignant, isn’t it? |
 Here they are sitting side by side, waiting to die – sad John and The Vacant Chair. Tragic Granite. |
 Here’s another view of the final set of statues from the side. |
 The second pair of statues that John commissioned were these beauties that depict the couple as they would have looked about 10 years after they were married. Their positioning at opposite ends of the bench, leaning away from each other, might explain why they never had any children. |
 Detail of young John. Nice carving, isn’t it? Very dapper suit of stone! |
 And here’s a detailed shot of young Sarah. Does anyone else see a little nip showing? Oh, BEHAVE!!! |
 Here’s another pair of statues, showing the couple in middle age. John kinda reminds me of Thurston Howell III in this carving. |
 A closer view of fetching young(ish) Lovey, er, Sarah. |
 And heeeeeere’s Johnny! Close-shaven for the last time ever… |
 The final two statues that John commissioned depicted himself and Sarah as angels over each other’s graves. Sadly, vandals have made off with John’s head. Come on, people – Isn’t it bad enough that the guy lost a hand in life? |
 A closer view of Angel John. |
 Why settle for just one statue of Mr. Davis when you can have two? Looks like some plastic surgery was performed on the one on the left. |
 This shot was taken peering over the wall that awkwardly surrounds the memorial and looking straight down. |
 Here’s a final shot of the angel Sarah taken from the other side of the crowded memorial. Looks like she’s saying, “John, John, why did you waste all our money on these silly statues?” |
After enjoying the Davis Memorial, I wandered around the rest of the cemetery, but it really isn’t terribly interesting. About the only grave I found worth photographing was this nice statue memorializing someone named Pearl. Still, shames in comparison to what ol’ John did!
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And thus ended my trip to Hiawatha, Kansas – where even homely farmers can be memorialized in Carrara marble!
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Additional Information from Vicki “This isn’t quite the story I heard. “I lived in Hiawatha, Kansas when I was a child. My father, William Lee Graham worked for Dr. Gordon Teal, a Dentist. We lived there from the time I was two years old in 1950, until we moved to Emporia, Kansas, when I was in fourth grade, in 1958. My younger sister, Helen, was not the first child born in that hospital, but one of the first. There were so few babies at the time that my mother knew it was her baby crying in the nursery, and it bothered her so much she asked them to bring my sister into her room and she would take care of her. (Probably one of the first babies to room in with her mom). Helen cried so much that she ended up with a small hernia under her bellybutton which she had to have fixed when she was an adult having her own children. Mother swore that it was the Hiawatha hospital that caused that hernia, as they let Helen lay and cry for hours at a time. Helen was the third girl, Vicki being the oldest born in Kansas City, Kansas, Beverly following 17 months later also born in Kansas City, then Helen 15 months later and Mark both of whom were born at the Hiawatha hospital. Mark was born in December 1953. “My father who is now deceased, and my mother who is still living (Evelyn Graham) told me the story as they heard it when I was quite young. We used to visit that memorial, and though not so beautiful as you would have expected, was not meant to be beautiful, but meant to spend every single penny that Mr. Davis’ wife left at her death. The story was that he and she didn’t live such a wonderful life, as a matter of fact toward the end I think they were barely able to tolerate one another. She did not leave the money to him, but rather the money was to be used to bury both of them, and the rest was to go to the city of Hiawatha to build the hospital, and not left for him or anyone in the family. I don’t believe she left any heirs. “Mr. Davis was furious, so began the job of spending every cent he could on that memorial, so there would be none left for the people of Hiawatha to build their hospital. If he was not to have her money, he would see to it that the city didn’t receive it either. “The first statues carved were of beautiful marble, (when my mother and father were not looking) and we visited the graves, we children would sit in the empty chairs, and sometimes on the laps of Mr. and Mrs. Davis. As the years wore on the money almost gone, rather than not finish the memorial, Mr. Davis had the last statues carved from less expensive materials, so that there was not one single cent left for the people of Hiawatha to build their hospital. So, the town lost their hospital, and Mrs. Davis who was philanthropic minded, was not able to help build the hospital with her money. I can imagine her turning over in her grave over that one. “The ironic ending is that the people of Hiawatha who hated Mr. Davis, who was then a pauper,were required to pay for his burial, making the anger run even deeper. When we lived there, he was not remembered kindly, and the memorial deteriorated over the years even to the point that someone knocked his head off. When the people realized they were losing tourists, they began taking care of the memorial and tried to make repairs. I remember the cemetery as being quite pretty and very well kept when I was a child living there.” Vicki Lee Graham Buhrle |
Fort Scott
Fort Scott (Fort Scott, Kansas)
Learn all about “Bleeding Kansas” – a time when free-state supporters fought pro-slavery supporters – at this historic site. Suggested by Riley.