Archive for the 'The Dead' Category

Nearly Forgotten

Shanna Riley November 5th, 2008

I almost missed the grave of Katie Lane when I dropped in on Harelson Cemetery for an impromptu graving trip.  It was against a fence; deep within a thick mess of underbrush.  You had to fight your way in just to get to where she was buried - if that is even the original spot of her headstone.

Katie, barely nineteen years-old when she died in 1903, is one of those "forgotten" graves - and persons - that are so important to me in my hobby and research.  It saddens me to think that she is not remembered, not looked for, and never commemorated.  Flowers have probably not been put on her grave in close to a century; eyes have probably not been laid upon her headstone a dozen times in the last ten years.

No one thinks to remember young Katie; there is no one left to care that she lived or died.

The best that I can do for her is memorialize her here.  All I could find, so far, was mention of her living with her family in the 1900 U.S. Census.

Katie L. Lane lived in what was then East Baton Rouge parish, Police Jury Ward 7, with her parents Joseph and Emma Lane.  I believe this area is now considered part of Iberville parish.

Her father, sixty-two years of age at the time, was from New York and a carpenter.  Her mother, whose surname I only know begins with a "G", was a Louisiana native and was fifty-one in 1900.  Katie was fifteen at the time.

She lived with a bevy of siblings:

  • Mary Bell, 27
  • Maud D., 25
  • Pearl E., 21
  • Ethel, 18
  • Carlile A., 11
  • Leslie B., 7

From the 1920 Census, I see her parents still living and all of her siblings, even her older sisters now in their forties, single and living with them.

This is all I could find - so far - on poor, forgotten Katie L. Lane.  It is my hope that she will be remembered or perhaps someone will stumble across this post and recognize her as an ancestor.  Until then, rest in peace, Katie; you are not forgotten.

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In Lieu of Flowers…

Shanna Riley March 7th, 2008

On March 6, 2008 at approximately 8:45am MST, the mother of one of my dearest friends, Gaylene DePorter, lost her courageous battle against Medullary Thyroid Carcinoma; a rare form of thyroid cancer that spread, unchecked, into her liver.

Surrounded by her loved ones, Gaylene was aware of what was happening to her and before she slipped into a hepatic encephalopathy coma, she was able to tell them all that she loved them.

This feisty, vibrant, and strong woman will be laid to rest on Saturday, March 8th. In lieu of flowers, her family asks that donations be made, in her name, to either The American Cancer Society or The Lance Armstrong Foundation.

I, too, ask that you contribute - even if it is just a couple of dollars - to one or the other. In the past year, I have seen three people now lose their lives to cancer. First, Jenny Martin - entirely too young to see her life ended. Then, a co-worker, Kenneth Robichaux, that we all called "Robi"; a brilliant and charming man the world is much the less for losing. Now, my dear friend's mother - life snipped short in her prime, golden years.

I once vehemently decried to a close friend of mine, "I hate cancer!" He, an active member of the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation ever since his wife had become a breast cancer survivor, said something that has stuck with me through the years. "Yes,", he answered, "but what are you doing about it?"

We can despise and rally against the awful disease that claims so many lives - young and old - or we can do something about it. A few dollars spared to the on-going research for a cure is the very least we can do in this battle that every one of us has a stake in. Cancer is something that affects everyone's life - whether you have had it, know someone who has, or watched a loved one suffer through it - all of us have come into contact with this deadly and terrible disease in one form or another.

Cancer is something we all fear and despise, yet shall we stand idly by while it claims the lives of children and adults at alarming rates? Or shall we do something - no matter how small - to take a stand against this deadly killer? Please, make a donation - do it for Jenny. Do it for Robi. Do it for Gaylene. Do it for all of the millions of lives lost, young and old, and the millions more whose lives were shattered by this disease. Just, please, do it.

Shafted, If You Ask Me

Shanna Riley March 3rd, 2008

Shafted. That's the term that came to mind when I stumbled across the grave of James Pas Hankston at a small, unmarked church and cemetery off the River Road (Hwy. 405) in White Castle, Louisiana.

The small, Iberville Parish graveyard, I later learned, was Asbury Independent Methodist Church Cemetery and its almost centurion occupant caught my eye from the get-go.

I suppose after years of poking around burial grounds, you get a keen eye for the interesting graves. Something about Mr. Hankston's tomb stood out and I snapped it - but it wasn't until I got home and was uploading his memorial to Find A Grave, that I realized just why his marker was unique.

James Hankston, I realized, died just seven days short of his 100th birthday! Born on December 12, 1900, the elderly man was headed towards making the laudable century mark but was cut short only a few days shy - on December 5, 2000. Oh, the irony! The cruel, bitter irony - to make it so far and then,...not make it.

As I left a virtual flower for the poor soul, I couldn't help but think how unfair it all seemed. Shafted, indeed.

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