The Slave Grave & Zachariah Archer

Here's a story I'm proud to tell. It was shared by a delightful distant cousin, Jack Huffington. He took us to Walnut Prairie cemetery to see all our Cork ancestors. Walnut Prairie is situated alongside the Wabash River which runs through both Illinois and Indiana. Back in the day there were a number of ferries taking people back and forth across that river as a lot of folks lived on one side of it and worked on the other. Well...one of my grandfathers (actually, great grandfathers by about 5 greats) was traveling on the ferry one day and a "colored" man took sick. The legend is unclear whether this man died on the ferry or from being thrown off it and drowning but what is clear is that this great grandfather of mine, ZACHARIAH ARCHER, pulled this man out of the water and since no one knew who he was he took the body home and buried him in the family plot in the Walnut Priairie cemetery. There is a handsome marker with nothing on it at all right with the rest of the Archer family. I am proud to be related to Zachariah Archer! His son is the co-founder of Marshall, the "Star" of this little blog.

The Fine Line

I'm really a novice at blogging! All that I know I learned from my friend Ben and from reading his wife, Diana's blog. What I do know is that Diana is a tough act to follow! I aspire to be as entertaining and well written as she is but it's a hopeless goal, I think she was born to it and I will always struggle with it.

Part of the problem is that this blog is about other people, not me! These people are my family, living and dead, whom I love and cherish. I walk a fine line here, between trying to keep this interesting and share short stories of my family but not wanting to share things that might be considered private or embarrassing.

Most of my family are open books, one of my family is very private and conservative. Most live in small towns where they know and are known by many! This blog is for my family but it's in the public domain, however unlikely anyone is to notice it. Some might read this and think I've not said much at all, my hope is that no one in my family will read it and think I said too much.

Although my original goal was to share what I learned of the family while on my genealogy trip to Marshall I've discovered that there are still some stories that might be better left unsaid, at least by me. I don't personally find anything in our family tree that I am ashamed or embarrassed by, but some things are very personal.

As I delve into the family history in Marshall, I hope my family will jot down their memories and either send them to me to post or post a comment, I'd rather post it in the main blog though so it's more likely to be noticed. Happy reading folks!

The Begats - Clarks

TWF Clark married Ethel Abbie Creal...they begat Creal, Wilbur, Jane

Creal Clark married Mary Belle, they begat Tom

Wilbur Ellis Clark married Margaret Jane Cork, they begat Nikki Lynn & Peggy Jane (my mom)

Jane Clark, never married

Tom Clark married Mary Ann, they begat Kimberly, Sally, Bill

Nikki Lynn married James Barnhart, they begat Tracey, Kelly, Darby, Holly

Peggy Clark married and divorced Richard Wehage, they begat Karen Louise (me!) and Kathleen

Karen Clark married David D. Phelps, no begats
Kathy Clark married Lee Craig, they begat Andy, Daniel, Scott, Amy, Matthew, Joel

Mary Belle Clark

Mary Belle Clark, 1910-1947, Marshall Cemetery, Marshall, Illinois

Mary Belle was married to my moms fathers brother, Creal Clark with whom she had one child, my cousin Tom. She died when he was very small. I don't know if Tom knows much about his mom, or if he even knew she was buried with his grandparents. I don't know Tom and his family as well as I'd like but I am very fond of them and hope this discovery and the photos gives them the warm fuzzies, it certainly does me. I may discover when I meet the family on the other side of the veil that they don't particularly care where their mortal remains end up but for me it's important that families be together and I was tickled to find Mary Belle with my great-granparents and my Aunt Jane. We almost didn't find her grave, it was hidden behind these flower bushes and I had to do some extensive pruning, but it was worth it! It was a labor of love!

Jane M. Clark

Jane M. Clark, my aunt! Her brother Wilbur is my mothers father. We didn't know her as well as I might have liked but she was none the less special to me. She never married and once when she visited us during my high school years I had the teenage temerity to ask why. Apparently she had a beau that died in WWII, I guess she never felt that way about anyone again. She was a Chrisian Scientist and I believe was a nurse in one of their hospitals. She lived with a distant cousin that everyone called crazy though I don't actually know why! I gather it was deserved because they were both made wards of the state of Indiana when it was discovered that Aunt Jane had Alzhiemers. It broke my heart, they took her away and never told anyone where she was. We weren't allowed to visit or anything. When she died we weren't notified then either. A distant cousin saw a generic obit in the Terre Haute paper and clipped it out. About a year later she sent it to mom assuming that we knew and would like a copy. I was so upset! We didn't know if she'd had a decent funeral, where she was buried, nothing! I was afraid she'd been buried in some unmarked paupers grave somewhere we'd never find. Imagine my surprise and joy when we discovered her next to her parents in the Marshall Cemetery! With a proper headstone even! Oh how my heart had ached when I didn't know where she was and how sweet was this discovery!

Mom at rest...no time soon!

My mom hasn't lived in Marshall since she was a tiny girl but it's the home where her heart is. She has lived in South Carolina for decades but doesn't feel at home enough to be buried there, her parents were buried in Hanover, PA but she doesn't feel like that's home either, she wants to be buried in Marshall and apparently we will be allowed to bury her cremated remains in the plot with her beloved grandmother, assuming no one else in the family objects. We can have a placard mounted onto the back of grannys stone with moms information on it. This pleases her! Although we don't dwell on the topic of death in our family neither do we shy away from it. We spoke with the caretakes at the cemetary while we were there and settled a years long question in her mind as to what she wants us to do when the time comes. So now that's settled! That does not mean we are ready to put this plan in action!!!!!

Gravestones

Just an aside, we discovered during our little foray into the cemeteries that some materials used for grave markers just DO NOT stand the test of time. The elements will erase them in just a generation or 2. That being said I CAN NOT REMEMBER which ones were the bad ones! So, when in the course of human events you find it necessary to pick out a headstone for your loved one go to the cemetary first and talk to the caretakers ask them which material, marble, granite, concrete, metal, whatever is going to stand the test of time and the hazzards of mother nature. Or go find the oldest still legible stone in the cemetary and find out what it's made of. And even if it's more expensive get the good one. Someday your posterity is going to be looking for you and yours in that cemetary and are going to be heartbroken that they can't find you because the words on the stone are washed away. Oh, and another thing, they carve them to different depths, make sure they carve the letters deep, that makes them last longer as well. I know many people don't do the cemetary thing, my aunt is one. That's ok! You have to let people be who they are, but I, on the other hand and my mom as well, feel a kinship with our ancestors when we visit their graves. A connection, a bond. Oh, I know that body is just a shell to house their spirit and that their spirit is soaring all over the place! But the last tangible part of their physical being is just a few feet away and that comforts me. I like kneeling down at someones grave, cleaning their stone and talking to them. There is a peaceful communion in those moments. I need that.