Not a vestige of anything left . . .

Those were the words Orlando pioneer Samuel A. Robinson used to describe the city's first graveyard when he was interviewed by the local newspaper back in 1915.

According to Mr. Robinson, it was where "Samuel Russ and many others" were originally buried. But, it may not be their finaly resting place. Or, maybe it is . . .

The roots of the vanished cemetery date way back to 23 November 1857, when my ancestor John Patrick deeded one acre to the local Baptist congregation to build a church. I suspect his generous gift followed the death of his father Wright Patrick, Orlando's first postmaster and quite possibly the first person buried within the bounds of the modern city block bounded by Church Street on the South, Rosalind Avenue on the East, Pine Street on the North, and Magnolia Avenue on the West.

It was certainly being used as a graveyard by 1869. But, it wasn't until 1872 that the locals got around to building an L-shaped log church on the site. (Pictured above.) It was used not only by the Baptists, but also by all the other congregations in the city until they were able to build churches of their own. Thus, it was known as the "Union Free Church." It also did double duty as a public school building.

In 1880, when Greenwood Cemetery was established southeast of downtown, the old graveyard fell into disuse. The union church building was absorbed by the nearby Tremont Hotel, but was ultimately condemned by the city in 1891. Two years later, the Baptists wanted to expand their new church complex. So, they disinterred all the grave sites they could identify and moved the remains to Greenwood. But, as ye rabbits are well aware, sometimes it's hard to spot all the graves in a graveyard. And, they apparently missed more than a few!

Who knows who may yet remain buried under this bustling block in the heart of downtown Orlando: Samuel Russ? Wright Patrick? Their names certainly don't appear in the sexton's records at Greenwood . . .

Think about that the next time ye hop down to one of the hot spots at Church Street Station, and a chill might just run down your spine!

Aluminum marker in flood zone

Hopping along US 192 from Holopaw to the coast will take ye rabbits to the vicinity of Deer Park and the Bull Creek Wildlife Management Area.

Few know there is a small cemetery in the WMA.

Those who do, call it by a variety of names. Some call it the Lanier Cemetery for a pioneer family. Others call it the Bull Creek Cemetery for the WMA. But, I've always known it as the Crabgrass Creek Cemetery.

Anyway, the terrain here is "Old Florida," replete with scrub oak and white sugar sand. You'd really be well advised to take a 4x4 if you're seriously interested in visiting this graveyard in person. But, you will be richly rewarded with some of the greatest natural scenery in these parts.
Unfortunately, the area is prone to some pretty serious flooding. This may be why only the sturdiest grave markers have stood the test of time. Several have evidently been washed away, and one in particular was replaced with one of those little funeral home markers experienced rabbits will recognize from previous excursions.

This marker caught my attention, because it was so small and had so few clues as to the identity of the person who rests beneath it.


It bears aluminum letters that blend into the aluminum background of the sign, making it a little difficult to read in this picture. But, I can tell you they spell out: LAVONIA PLATT.


I wondered who she was, and wondered (based on the flag) whether she might have been a Confederate widow. So, I decided to do a little research.


It didn't take me long to discover information on Lavonia (3 Nov 1876 - 24 July 1935) posted on a website maintained by Christopher G. Tanner of Maitland. According to him, this poor woman was accidentally killed by a train along the Florida East Coast Railway in nearby Melbourne.


A very sad story, made even sadder by her marker . . . still haven't figured out the Stars and Bars connection . . .

Nice stone for a not-so-nice graveyard

Whereas yesterday found us in one of the most-manicured graveyards in Central Florida, today we hop along US17-92 in Fern Park to discover one of the more neglected cemeteries in this little corner of heaven.

Only a small white sign with green lettering explains to shoppers at the nearby Winn Dixie why there is such a large open area in the midst of an otherwise busy and crowded mix of residential and commercial buildings.

Even the most casual observer will conclude this graveyard is home to far more burials than there are gravemarkers. You can see numerous depressions in the ground.


Perhaps the best looking marker belongs to a childless married couple who were born into slavery and lived near their final resting place when the entire town was known as "Woodbridge."

Now, only the cemetery carries that name.

In case you can't make out the inscription in this photo, it reads:

TOM GREEN

DIED NOV 16 1919

AGE 65

SALLIE GREEN

DIED JULY 31 1919

AGE 68

AT REST

(Ref: 1900 Census, Orange County, Florida, page 52a.)

Willie's second wife

Happy Thanksgiving, ye rabbits!

Our turkey day plans had us hopping up to Apopka, right past Highland Memory Gardens at 3329 East SR 436.

It's actually in the neck o' the woods most of us natives call Forest City. But, the mailing address says Apopka nowadays.

Ironically, on the grounds of this graveyard, I discovered a perfect follow-up to yesterday's posting about the mysterious missing wife.

This marker was placed to honor the memories of Willie E. Chapman (1887-1978) and his wife Ollie O. Chapman (1893-1971).

Seems pretty cut and dry, doesn't it?

But, when I did a little sleuthing, I discovered Mr. Chapman had been married to a lady named Maggie before leaving Kentucky to settle in this little corner of heaven. This per the 1920 Census. (Also discovered Ollie's maiden name was Pigg . . . no joking!)

So, the question remains, where did Willie bury his first wife?

References:

* 1920 Census, Floyd County, Kentucky, page 238a.

* 1920 Census, Lawrence County, Kentucky, page 147b.

* http://www.timesfreepress.com/news/2008/mar/13/obituaries-march-13-2008/?obituaries

Where is Virginia?!

If ye rabbits have ever taken Glenridge Way behind fashionable Baldwin Park until it dead-ends at Lakemont Avenue in Winter Park, you have no doubt come face to face with this sign at Pineywood Cemetery.

Traffic in this little corner of heaven is . . . well . . . less than heavenly, which has prevented yours truly from visiting this particular graveyard. This despite the fact that I used to live within walking distance.

At any rate, once inside, I stumbled across a stone that sparked a mystery.

I'm sure experienced rabbits have encountered this situation before.

The stone in question was evidently placed to honor the memory of a couple named Thomas and Virginia Spellman.

Mr. Spellman evidently predeceased Mrs. Spellman, in 1956.

The year of her death was never completely carved on the stone.

So, where is she? If still alive, she would be nearly 130 years old!

More likely, she is buried elsewhere . . . or, could she be buried here after all, just nobody got around to completing that date?

I did a little sleuthing, but couldn't find anything. If any of ye rabbits can figure out where Virginia is, a reply post would be appreciated!

(And, don't tell me Virginia is between North Carolina and Maryland!!)

Where did they come from?!

Today's post will be a bit of a departure for the CFGYR, because we won't be visiting any particular cemetery.

Rather, the statistician in yours truly thought he'd share a very unscientific study he undertook using the local obit pages.

We've pretty much always had a transient population in this little corner of heaven.

I don't mean we're a region of ramblers, per se. But very few folks buried around these parts were actually born here. I wondered just what portion of the current graveyard populations were natives, and where all the other folks came from. So, over a period of 30 days, I kept a tally sheet.

342 obituaries later, I give to you this map as a graphic representation of the results. (If your eyes are as feeble as my own, you may need to double click and expand its size.)

In a nutshell, only 35 folks were actually born in the Sunshine State . . . just over 10%.

A whopping 125 made no reference to a birthplace at all! (about 39%)

78 came from Midwestern states (23%).

36 came from southern states other than Florida (about 11%)

Pennsylvania accounted for 19, the largest number of any state besides Florida. (about 6%)

The next step of this little project will be to get a hold of some old copies of the Orlando Sentinel to see how these ratios have changed over time . . .

OK, enough of the number crunching for now. We'll get back to cemetery hopping in tomorrow's post!

My grandma's graveyard rabbit

Today, I take ye rabbits back to Woodlawn Cemetery out in Gotha, because I want to introduce you to my Grandma G . . . otherwise known as Ruth Norton Gleeson (7 Dec 1919 - 13 June 1995).

Her name was brought up several times today as we celebrated my mom's birthday, so it's only appropriate.

You will appreciate this photo of her grave marker at Woodlawn, because it includes a small flower basket with a white rabbit in it.

No, the basket wasn't placed there for Easter. And, you can see from the dates that Grandma G passed away several years before our GYR association was formed. So, why the rabbit?

Well, the Gleesons have a family tradition called "white rabbit." Those are supposed to be the first two words out of your mouth on the first day of the month to ensure good luck.

Grandma G would sometimes call us at 12:01 am on the first to try to trip us up. Sometimes, she'd get us, because we were half asleep and would answer her call with a groggy, "Hello?!" Then, she'd laugh and reply, "White rabbit!" So, she'd have all the luck in the family for the rest of the month.

It's funny how rabbit-centered traditions stand the test of time, isn't it?