Like in the song Coal Miner's Daughter.."Not much there but the floor. Nothing lives there anymore"
Thursday, July 25, 2003
Today is our last day in Ashland. It does not escape me that after we leave my Dad and his siblings will never see each other again. They are all getting too old to travel; Dad, Delbert, and Ann are in declining health, so the odds are very long.
Last night at dinner, I asked Uncle Bill and Uncle Tom to show me how to get to the Kretzer Family Cemetery, near Hitchins.
The Kretzer Family Cemetery looking one way
They took me there back in 1994, but I did not write down turn by turn directions, so this time I wanted to be able to find it. I’m just not sure how many people are left that remember how to get there, and if they do would even bother. The farther you get away from the people buried there, relationship-wise, the less likely you are to visit.
Anyway, my uncles were happy to do it, and we left Ashland about 10:30 AM. It took us, which included Jessi and Arielle. They especially Jessi, didn’t want to go, but I made them. Some things are obligations in life; I felt this was one of them. It took about ½ hour to get there. I wrote down directions as we went. By 11:00, when we go there, it was obvious it was going to be a hot, humid Kentucky summer day. Jessi was complaining about her allergies flaring up. That was to be expected, as she really does have seasonal allergies and Kentucky has much more stuff growing that back home.
and then the next.
Plus, she really didn’t want to be there.
The Kretzer Family Cemetery, like all rural mountain cemeteries is on a hill top. You can’t waste prime flat land on the dead. That is saved for the farm and the farm buildings. The land itself is all part of the old Kretzer farm, originally owned by my Great-Grandfather. It’s now in the hands of one of his grandsons, but it is no longer used as a farm. There is a hand made barbque pit, a bench or two, and a kids swing set sitting where the house used to be. I think they have the occasional family get together on it.
Once we got there we had to park at the base of the hill and walk up about 100 yards or so. It was not terribly strenuous, but it was enough to keep my two Aunts, Mom and Dad at home. Up there is buried; my Grandfather, Charles Kretzer, who was killed in the mine explosion: his Dad, Friedrich, who immigrated from Germany in 1882, after serving in Franco-Prussian War of 1870; His second wife, my great-grandmother, Minnie, who my g-grandfather sought out in this country, because he knew her in the old country, after his first wife died, and he needed a mother for his two children.
My grandfather's grave
They later had eleven children together; My grand uncle, William, who died with my grandfather, a couple of other granduncles and grandaunts, and other more distantly relatives that I had barely heard of.
When we got to the top, we all paid our respects. Then Uncle Tom took a weed whacker to the small cemetery to knock down the grasses and weeds. He must do that fairly regularly, as the cemetery was not terribly overgrown. I took as many pictures as I could to document the cemetery as best as I could. You just never know when they might be needed.
About this time the combination of Uncle Tom stirring up pollen and other such plant matter and a wasp landing on Jessi’s arm set her off, and she was in tears. I guess enough was enough. She was hot, stuffed up, miserable, and now a bug was after her. We walked back down the hill, got in the car, and headed back to Boyd County.
