I am actively resarching Whitaker, Porter, Ramsey, Demarest, Demaree, Arnold and others.
Any volunteer photo's I take may be used for your genealogy.
Your tombstone stands among the rest
Neglected and alone
The name and date are chiseled out
On polished marble stone
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn
You did not know that I exist
You died and I was born
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood and bone
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
Entirely not our own
Dear Ancestor, the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so
I wonder if you lived and loved
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot
And come to visit you
Walter Butler Palmer wrote the poem "Dear Ancestor" in 1906 while visiting the grave of his great-grandfather.
"The Soldier's Grave" Tread lightly, 'tis a soldiers grave, a lonely, mossy mound; and yet to hearts like mine and thine it should be holy ground. Speak softly, let no careless laugh, No idle, thoughtless jest, Escape your lips where sweetly sleeps the hero in his rest. For him no reveille will beat when morning beams shall come; for him, at night, no tattoo rolls its thunders from the drum. Tread lightly! For a man bequeathed, were laid beneath this sod, His ashes to his native land, and His gallant soul to God. ~Pearl Rivers~(pen name of Eliza Jane Poitevent Holbrook Nicholson.)
As I stumble through this life,
help me to create more laughter than tears,
dispense more happiness than gloom,
spread more cheer than despair.
Never let me become so indifferent,
that I will fail to see the wonders in the eyes of a child,
or the twinkle in the eyes of the aged.
Never let me forget that my total effort is to cheer people,
make them happy, and forget momentarily,
all the unpleasantness in their lives.
And in my final moment,
may I hear You whisper:
"When you made My people smile,
you made Me smile."
You live as long as you are remembered. -- Russian proverb
Life's but a walking Shadow, a poor Play'r,
That struts and friets his Hour upon the Stage,
And then is heard no more; it is a Tale
Told by an Idiot, full of Sound and Fury,
from John Hackett's "Select and Remarkable Epitaphs on Illustrious and Other Persons in Select Parts of Europe, with Translations" @1757
"Their bodies are buried in peace; but their name liveth for evermore" Ecclesiasticus 44:14
Search memorial contributions by Robert Adlet