A Visit to the Old Cemetery

     I've been for a walk in the cemetery.  Yep, you may call me "freaky" but there is something about visiting a cemetery, especially if it is one on the Island. I find it entertaining and enlightening to visit such a sacred place where I can find spiritual enrichment to be among those who have gone before us.  We all know that God is found everywhere, while driving, at work, or at a ballgame, but I can not escape the feeling knowing that he is totally with me when I visit a cemetery.

     I was on Goose Creek Island Sunday morning and while out driving around, I decided to stop by the Watson Cemetery in Lowland.  As a child, I remember it was a small cemetery but I could visibly tell that it had grown since my youth.  Looking around at the monuments to our former residents, I saw folks who made Goose Creek Island what it is.  A fisherman, a store owner, a Civil War soldier, mothers and fathers, babies, and churchgoers.

     The first grave I came upon was Wright and Martha Goodwin.  It was ironic that I came across their grave since publishing a story about Mr. Wright.  The epitaph of their marker truly showed how much they were loved:

"You are not dead to us, but as a bright star unseen"

     I came across Bryan Rice who was born in 1841 and died in 1914.  Bryan Rice has been recorded in the 1900 census as a brick maker near the River Shore area of Lowland.  He was also the father-in-law of my great grandmother Melissa Howerin Rice Lewis.  It is hard to imagine that Bryan Rice died almost 100 years ago, and that his remains rest under a crepe myrtle on the edge of this cemetery. His marker reveals a Charitable Brotherhood Lodge emblem and identifies that he served in the Confederate Army during the Civil War as a Private, Co.B, First Regiment, N.C. Infantry.  

Born July 22, 1841 - Died September 17, 1914

     And right next to Bryan, rests his son Fred Rice who was born in 1884 and died in 1917.  He left behind a wife and three very young children, Hertford who was only 5 years old, Wera 3, and Roscoe was only 1 years old.  His marker expresses the anguish of leaving behind such small children.

"God Bless the Children's Dear Loving Father"

           And of course there were the babies who were born to several of our Island residents.  One must understand that maternal care has improved drastically in the last century and it reflects in all the Island cemeteries. When standing their looking at the babies markers, I could picture parents, relatives, friends and a preacher standing there providing words of comfort to all.  I can see the tears rolling down their faces as they commit to the earth the babe that a mother carried for almost a year, only to be taken due to the ravages of disease or health problems. 

"God Bless Our Little Babies"

 

                                   The infant daughter and son born to Henry & Minerva Lupton in 1917 and 1912

     Near the back of the cemetery, I came across Miss Mollie Gibbs.  I never knew her husband Milton, but in my mind I can visibly see Miss Mollie.  I can recall seeing her helping with vacation bible school at the Lowland Church of Christ.  And in retrospect, almost every memory I have of her, I see her at her church, whether inside singing, vacation bible school or even standing in it's parking lot talking with her neighbors and friends.  The epitaph on this marker certainly embodies her spirit and that of her husband.

"The Rose Still Grows Beyond the Wall"

      Many of the old white stones have succumbed to weather and are unreadable.  Some of the old cedar and metal markers have fallen victim to the ravages of weather and hurricanes.  If you are ever on the Island, I urge you take a few minutes and visit one of the cemeteries.  It's not morbid, it's getting in touch with your spiritual roots.  They all have wonderful historical and genealogical information.  It's these small, quaint family plots that reveal who are ancestors were.  Each person buried in our Island cemeteries had a purpose in life.  They remind me that they were like I am. They lived, breathed, laughed, cried, and worshiped as a community.  They all received countless blessings from which this Island has most graciously been given.