Wordless Wednesday–Bateman Cem, Fillmore co., MN

Zumbro Hill Cemetery

I can honestly say I’ve never worked so hard to photograph a cemetery.  While I was fairly sure the person I was looking for was not buried in that cemetery, I thought as long as we were that close, we should check it out.  From Forestville, Minnesota, it was about “6 blocks and up the hill.”

Actually, it was well over a mile from where we were able to park, and a long, dry, dusty walk in the unseasonably warm 89 degree sun.  Sweating profusely, I thought then about turning around, not being prepared for anything too physical, and certainly not dressed appropriately for a hike, but since we were approaching the hill where the cemetery was located, I thought the worst was over.  But the climb up the forested hill was not something that two fat, middle aged people should have attempted in the heat of the day.  Had I known just how far up the hill this cemetery was located, I’m not sure I would have continued, but once there, the solitude and peace was incredible.

The photo above shows the semi-cleared area where the cemetery is located, and just to the right of the center, you can see the two still-standing stones, the remainder of them on the ground.  Having climbed that long, steep hill, I have to wonder how these pioneers managed to get the caskets up there. 

Lewis Adams died July 12, 1862 at the age of 27 years.  He was a “cooker” by trade, born in Germany, and lived in Forestville with 17 year old Susan Adams, in 1860.

Above, Lydia Luvia Bassett and little Hokah Bassett.  Lydia was born in 1839, and Hokah was born in 1855.  Hokah died in 1856, and Lydia in 1858,  They share a stone with Samuel Smith, 1786 – 1862.   Below are individual small stones, broken, for Lydia and Hokah.

Samuel Smith was born in Stratford County, New Hampshire on  July 7, 1786, and died at Carimona, Minnesota on Oct. 24, 1862.

Joseph Bisbey died Nov. 12, 1863, at the age of 49.  He was a farmer, a native of New York, and the husband of Sophia Bisbey.

Riley D. Brooks, son of Hiram S. & Amanda M. Brooks, died August 10, 1869 at the age of 3 months and 27 days. 

Above, Major James Foster, and his wife, Jane, who farmed in Forestville township.  The former was a native of Pennsylvania, and his wife a native of Ohio.  Some of their children, as listed in the 1870 census, were James (19), Catharine (17), Sarah (15), John (14), Mary (11), and Josephine (8).

Patrick O’Kane, a Forestville twp. farmer, was born about 1810 in Ireland.  He was married to Ann, and in the 1870 census is living with her, his daughter Lucy (a 24 year old schoolteacher), Mary (18), and John (21).

Elizabeth (1801 – 1867), James (1789-1876), Samuel (1821-1871) Riddle. 

Abner Runals, 1788 - 1860

According to a plaque at the cemetery, there are a few additional burials there, but I was not able to locate the stones.

Adventures in Iowa

Finally, the long-awaited Road Trip.  Even though it was just a day trip, it felt so good to get out of town and go tromping through the cemeteries. 
The first stop was Spring Valley, in southern Minnesota, looking for a needle in a haystack, essentially.  We walked the entire cemetery looking for the resting place of one particular ancestor, which we did not find.  We’re back to Square One with him, but we did come upon this -


which was a tree trunk.  The top had the look of polished stone, but it wasn’t.  There appeared to be a very thick clear coating on the top of the trunk, with the lettering within the layers -
 
This unusual marker belonged to Cora N. May, 1870 – 1895, and was probably the neatest headstone I’ve ever seen.
We resumed the trip to Plainfield, Iowa, hot and tired, stomachs growling, ready for lunch.  We passed by numerous restaurants, even a Dairy Queen (oh my, did a Blizzard sound good then!), but we decided to eat at New Hampton, Iowa, instead.  While not a huge town, it seemed, on the map, big enough to have a restaurant or two.  After what seemed like an eternity, we arrived at New Hampton, and started looking for the business district, and the restaurants.   We drove forever looking for some place to eat, and finally concluded that there were no restaurants in New Hampton.  We decided on a gas station/convenience store, just to hold off The Hungries until we could find a restaurant.  Halfway through the store, one of my well-worn black tennies fell apart – the sole just fell off, almost all the way, as I walked.  It would have been better, at least in the short-run, if it had just come off all the way, but no - I was forced to lift my foot high off the ground with each step, to keep from doing a face-plant, as I made my way toward the checkout, other patrons looking at me with a mixture of confusion and pity.  I paid for the pathetic piece of ham pizza, which had no doubt been under the heat lamp since the day before, and high-stepped out to the car.  I was never so glad to leave anyplace as I was then!
We got back on the road, and very shortly thereafter, passed another exit to New Hampton.  As I choked down the last bite of my Rubber Pizza, I looked at the assortment of eating establishments we were passing, and wondered if we should turn around and go back home…
Rather than high-step my way through the next cemetery, we found a convenience store along the way that carried heavy-duty tape, so I was able to put my shoe, and my dignity, back together.
I was glad we had not turned around and gone back home.  The cemetery at Plainfield, Iowa, was worth the trip.  I not only found the stones I was looking for, but a number of others that I did not know existed.  Once we got home, I went about the work of “connecting the dots” with all of the burials we’d found.  The Rotten Luck Fairy, who had plagued the first part of the trip, had one more surprise for me to end the day – the discovery that there was another whole branch of the family buried a less than 5 miles down the road from Plainfield!  Oh well… another trip…