Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Marietta Times - Sat. 30 Oct. 2004 (Subject: Washington County Infirmary)

Saturday, October 30, 2004
The Marietta Times

'Lost' cemetery intrigues historian

By Connie Cartmell, ccartmell@mariettatimes.com

It was about 142 years ago that a destitute Rebecca Wood, of Tyler County, Va., - pregnant, homeless - sought shelter for herself and her unborn child at the Washington County Infirmary.

It was a public shelter for the indigent, hungry, mentally and physically ill, and elderly. Men, women, and children lived and died there. Long, long ago, it was known as the "poor house."

Today it has evolved into the Washington County Home, on County House Lane, just northeast of Marietta.

Wood lived at the home for a number of years, was eventually discharged, but returned there to die. She was buried in the Infirmary Cemetery, across the road, in July 1882 and is one of only two people buried there to have a monument.

There are 888 lost and forgotten souls, buried in the cemetery on the hill, who likely will never, ever, be known. But one person is researching the cemetery, hoping to uncover clues about the people buried there.

"I hate seeing people dying, and there is no record of them or what they might ever have done," Ben Bain, of Marietta, genealogist, author, and local historian, said. "It's so sad. They might have done something amazing, and we'll never know."

An estimated 900 people, residents of the old home between 1836 and 1953, are buried in the grassy, well-manicured, one-acre cemetery.

There is no road or walk to it, and the main gate rusted off years ago. The cemetery was established in 1836, when the infirmary was built. The last recorded burial was in 1953.

"There are so many people buried up there, some may have been buried on top of one another," Ted Williams, administrator of the county home for 25 years said Friday.

Williams, who took charge long after the cemetery was used, said the county still maintains it, but residents of the home are now buried in town.

"There are many, many small family cemeteries in rural areas that no one knows anything about. They are lost," Bain said. "But to get 900 people, no one knows who the hell they are, now that's something else."

If any relative wanted to visit a gravesite, there is no record of who is buried where or when. It is a cemetery alone and forgotten.

Ernie Thode, manager of history and genealogy with the Washington County Public Library, said if a person is looking for a lost relative, they might easily overlook the Infirmary Cemetery, and never discover the records they are seeking.

"It might be right under your nose," he said. "When their ancestor can't be found, they might suspect the Infirmary Cemetery."

Thode said he knew there was a cemetery at the county home, but never expected it to have so many burials.

The large number of names that kept popping up in Bain's research drew him there in the first place. He became curious when he noticed a large number of county death certificates listed "Infirmary Cemetery" as the place of interment.

Rebecca Wood's obituary, along with Terresa Myers' (July 14, 1884) mentioned it.

"Nobody knew it was here," he said.

Those who visit must climb a steep, muddy hill, through remnants of last year's corn crop. Farm fields and a short fence surround the relatively small graveyard.

In every direction, the view from the top of the hill is breathtaking, but until Bain was taken in an airplane over the site, for infrared photographs, Bain couldn't have imagined that many gravesites.

Taken in 1996, the photographs reveal reddish rectangles, in neat rows, every which way, throughout the property.

"Row on row," Bain said. "I don't even know if the people were always put in coffins. They were maybe just wrapped in a blanket. The heat off the decaying bodies shows up clearly on the photographs."

Nobody seemed to know where the Infirmary Cemetery was, he said. "Even (the late) Jerry Devol, who was an outstanding local historian and knew everything, didn't know about it," Bain said.

On his first visit to the county home, he learned nothing. The person he spoke with never heard of it. The second visit, someone took him across the road and up the hill to the old cemetery.

"It's the neatest place," he said. "We come up here during the summer. You can see a million miles."

Bain said he has found about one third of those buried there and his research will continue. He is writing a book about it. Bain has also written a research book about Historic Harmar Cemetery.

"We won't find everyone," Bain said. "Some buried there never had obituaries and death certificates were issued only after 1907. Many are lost."

Williams said there are some records, kept at the county home and he will share with Bain.

"I couldn't believe it myself that there are so many up there," he said. "When I first came the ground was pretty rough from the caskets deteriorating and heaving up. We smoothed it out some so we could mow."

Thode said every person should care.

"Look at it this way," he said. "Do we want to be remembered? Everybody needs to be remembered."

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