I have passed this church and cemetery many times on my journeys to West Virginia's northern panhandle and have always wanted to stop. Last Sunday, even though it was snowing lightly, I decided it was time.
I supposed I had not realized that the curch is no longer in use. I could find nothing to tell me either the name of the church or the name of the cemetery. It was located between Friendly and Ben's Run, so perhaps someone from the area can identify it for me.
Details like the wodden adjustable shutters and the textured glass in the windows testify to the care that once was spent on this old building.
The mausoleum is showing need of attention. The keystone has fallen from the top of the arch and lays in front of the entrance.
I posted this photo on Facebook earlier this week. It haunts me, the story of a man's life etched in stone. He came from Wales, and died of the cholera in 1833, far from his homeland.
On this stone, the carver had to move down a line to get all his words in place. Spelling was a bit of an issue too 9"depated") but how lovely the lettering is. And to think that she was born only months after the Decelaration of Independence when America was still in the midst of the war with England. The verse reads:
There anchored safe my weary soul
Shall find eternal rest
Nor storm shall beat nor billows roll
Across my peaceful breast.
Soul and roll had to be moved below the rest of the line for lack of space.
Peace and quiet, in a place of snow and remembrance.
A hand-lettered stone is almost illegible today. It looks like it reads, 'Mary, wife of James Morris died...years." That's all I can make out.
A row of little children none living long enough to go to school.
Old stones, the road, railroad, power lines and behind the trees a barge passes on the Ohio River--testimony to the passing of time?
My footprints leave a lonely path through the snow and back to my car.