Greenleaf Cemetery has seen over 20,000 burials, from the mid nineteenth century all the way through today. As I walk through Greenleaf, I can’t help but wonder who all these people are. In fact, it has almost become an obsession for me. The more I research and talk to people, the more I know, but there are still thousands of mysteries.
Being an old, historical cemetery, through the course of the years there were no policies about grave markers. There are hundreds of unmarked graves, some of which just never had markers erected, and some had markers of wood or field stone. Those just wore away in the weather. There are elaborate stones surrounded by curbing, and others that are so small there is only room for names and birth/death years. Some headstones are intricately carved in granite or marble, and others are homemade, from cement or sandstone, sometimes inlaid with broken colored glass or marbles.
There are people buried at Greenleaf with well-known stories: Robert Howard, for instance. Many others will require lots of digging and asking to find an answer to the question, “Who are they?”
I intend to add a blog post ever day or so, answering that question about SOMEONE. Every single person who has been laid to rest at Greenleaf has a story. They have each had a life worth living and worth remembering.
The headstone pictured above is the stone for Ireen Day. Ireen died in childbirth when she was sixteen years old. That wasn’t uncommon in the 1920s. Her husband was my granddad, Ancie Fred Day. I don’t really know much more, except that their baby, Fred, Jr., grew up to become a doctor. In other places, I have seen her name spelled “Irene,” so I suspect it is misspelled on the grave stone. My grandparents have a double grave marker, and Ireen is buried to the side of my granddad, her husband. -Freda