I have to laugh even now that I have completed half of the local cemeteries that I need to visit. I laugh because it was 3 years ago this week I packed up my husband and a few belongings and we headed 4 hours away to Pennsylvania to do a cemetery hop, some research at the Bedford County Historical Society, and went to the Courthouse to view probate records and deeds of the ancestors on my paternal side.
What is comical is that I haven’t accomplished any of those things for my ancestors who lived here in Akron, Ohio. So, this past Saturday I began by visiting 2 of 5 local cemeteries where my ancestors are buried. I flew solo this time as my husband was assisting with parking for the Bridgestone Seniors Golf Tournament at Firestone Country Club. I can admit I truly missed the second set of eyes. It began getting a little toasty so I stopped, knowing that I can finish up at a later time because that’s what happens when you are visiting cemeteries close to home. The urgency is not there because who knows when you will return (which has been the case for me and Pennsylvania during this time of Covid).
Chestnut Hill Memorial Park
My first stop of the day was Chestnut Hill Memorial Park where my maternal granduncles were both buried. Edwin Fairhurst was killed in Saigon during World War II while his older brother, Wilfred, died in 1956. Wilfred also fought in World War II for the Marines and was in Saigon when his brother, who was in the Army, was killed.
Oakwood Cemetery was literally the cemetery about 5 minutes (driving) from where I grew up. I passed it every day on my drive to Cuyahoga Falls High School as Oakwood Drive was the street both my dad and neighbor took to take me to school for all 4 years. The interesting part was that my great-grandparents, James Fairhurst and Phoebe Boone Fairhurst were buried not far from the fence that I drove next to every day. They were who I searched for first as I entered the larger than it seems cemetery in the middle of the suburban city of Cuyahoga Falls.
It was interesting. I wasn’t sure how to react to their gravestone. As I felt so sad for the death of their sons (Wilfred and Edwin were their children), it was more complicated for them. My grandfather, their youngest son, was never a very nice person. He was physically abusive to his wives and children. As I’ve picked up stories about James and Phoebe, all those stories aren’t very promising either. Maybe I’m mistaken to blame his cruelty on them, but sometimes things just start and never end. I believe this is why I’ve never been big on trying to find out more about this branch of my family. Granted, it takes me to England right away as both James and Phoebe came here in the early 20th century, but it’s hard to get excited for people who you hear of just not being nice.
The next stop in my cemetery adventure was looking for the headstone of Andrew Dailey and Maria Munson Dailey, who I am pretty sure are my 4th-great-grandparents on my maternal grandmother’s side of the family.
I haven’t really learned a whole lot about Andrew Dailey and Maria Munson. This is one of those things I plan on delving into as I settle back down into focusing on my research. I know Andrew was born in this area back in 1814 so he has been a settler here in this area for a very long time. Researching here in Ohio will be a change of pace, as I am so use to Pennsylvania.
The gravestone was very worn and if there were words are the other sides they were completely washed away. Andrew passed away in 1886, Maria in 1898.
I opted to include Albert William Nank as I knew he was buried in Oakwood Cemetery. Albert is the man named on my maternal grandmother’s birth certificate as her father, but to my knowledge I have not discovered any DNA evidence from when I took my test 3 years ago to support that. That’s why I have the Dailey’s above, they are branched off of who I think is really her father’s family.
But I began looking for my 7th-grade-teacher’s final resting place and I remembered that Albert was not buried far from him. He was still my great-grandmother’s second husband so I guess he deserves to be memorialized as well, even if he wasn’t very nice either. I think he knew he wasn’t her dad but must have thought it wasn’t his place to say so.
I know I’m probably not suppose too, but I do wish I could take a weed whacker to his headstone so you can see it in its entirety again.
This last one is not a relative of mine, but rather my favorite teacher. I had Mr. Muster for a combination of geography and Ohio History in 7th grade at Roberts Middle School. He was a teacher that you either loved or hated, there was seldom an in-between. My sister did not have Mr. Muster but her good friend did. Heidi told horror stories about how mean Mr. Muster was. She was heavy-set and apparently he gave her a hard time about that. I found this odd as he himself was heavy-set. And he smoked a pipe. We had B lunch so our class went a half hour, we had lunch, and then we had another half hour, and I always remember the smell of his pipe when we returned to class.
I don’t remember much about the geography portions of class except the Africa test. It was a map test and you went up and pulled a slip of paper from a hat and you selected which test you would take. You then went up in front of the entire class and had to point out where things were. I lucked out and pulled the easiest one – so I had to point out the Nile River, Egypt, South Africa, and Zaire… all the really big and easy things to find. My friend Pam ended up selecting the most difficult test…. I don’t even remember what was on it but I was prepared and wish I could have helped her.
Ohio History was the fun part of class. I love history. And there was a cannon that was famous in Ohio named Old Betsy (gosh, I can’t remember why?) and Mr. Muster had a cannon that he claimed was a replica and he began shooting it in class with caps (like what was used in cap guns). I had a similar cannon at my grandma’s so I brought it in one day and fired back. He asked me if my cannon had a name, I said yes, Victory. So he then went on to inspect his own cannon, all we could find was “Made in Taiwan”.
Mr. Muster’s son was also in the same grade as my sister, so I hunted him down at graduation that night to discover how I did on my final exam. I’d missed 2. But that I found him was quite a feat as the Richfield Colosseum was huge (it no longer exists) and my sister had a very large class (but not as big as my mom’s).
I went back and visited Mr. Muster often as I went to high school. It’s amazing how teacher’s really have that impact on you. I had a few in high school and my favorite English teacher is someone I am friends with on Facebook (he taught my all-time favorite class – Enriched World Literature – it’s where I began my love of classical music).
I just Googled “Old Betsy Cannon” and it was used at Fort Stephenson during the War of 1812. It was the only cannon the fort had so Major George Croghan decided to move it around the fort to make it appear that they had more fire power than they did. In the end 150 British and Native Americans were killed and the United States only lost 1 soldier. You can learn more here.