| By Wynne Parry,
on 29-02-2008 23:00
|
Favoured : 1 |
From The Advocate STAMFORD, Conn. (AP)—A broken marble headstone lies embedded
in browned winter grass. A few faded characters describe a life 53
years, two days long -- the only clues left to the identity of the
person beneath.
We need more stories like this
Many
other headstones in West Stamford Cemetery are unreadable, their
inscriptions weathered away and obscured by lichen. Some have broken
off near the ground and lean against other stones; some are gone
entirely, leaving their graves unmarked. Every year, the lives of the people buried in the West Side graveyard from 1771 to 1906 slip further from memory. Stamford
has more than 40 of these old cemeteries. Some of their graves date to
before the Revolutionary War through the early 20th century. For two years, one man has been mapping and photographing these cemeteries. On
a mild February afternoon, Dick Roberts arrived at West Stamford
Cemetery at Greenwich and Richmond Hill avenues. He was carrying a
spiral-bound sketch pad, a camera and pages from an index of headstones
assembled by the Works Progress Administration in the 1930s. Roberts,
77, examined the toppled gray stone with the age inscription. To
identify its owner, he held the index up close to his dark-rimmed
glasses. The age matched a George Smith, who died in 1849. A
small footstone, which marks the end of the grave with the initials
"GS," appears to confirm this identity. Since the Revolutionary
War, a paper trail exists for most residents, said Ron Marcus,
librarian at the Stamford Historical Society. "But for many of
them, if they didn't own property, if they died very young, if they
were poor, these stones might very well be the only record of these
individuals," he said. For this reason, Roberts feels a sense of urgency in his work. "It's
probably the only record anywhere of George Smith," he said of the
stone. "It gets weathered away or broken and George Smith is gone." Many others already are. WPA workers recorded many more inscriptions that Roberts can match with stones. When
he finds a new name, such as George Smith's, it goes onto his sketch
below the gravestone he has drawn. He draws his final maps by hand,
from an aerial perspective that includes trees, walls and notes on
veterans graves. He gives his maps and the photos he snaps of
interesting stones to the historical society, where another volunteer
will scan them into a computer. In time, the society plans to make
Roberts' work available on its Web site. This is his own project; Roberts does not receive compensation from the historical society. Near
George Smith, Roberts locates Rhuea Jessop's grave. Much of her
inscription is gone, but he knows her as the daughter-in-law of his
grandfather, five times removed. From his genealogical research,
Roberts also knows a 2-month-old infant is buried with the woman who
died in 1799. This project was born out of an interest in
genealogy. Roberts is descended from many of the original families in
Stamford, including the Jessops. In addition to the index,
Roberts draws upon a book about poems inscribed on the city's old
headstones and the city's land-use maps. He has found most known
cemeteries by now, and even rediscovered one near Riverbank Road,
abandoned since the 1920s and absent from all maps. The physical
demands of this work are not insignificant for someone of his age:
Locating the cemeteries required some door knocking and hacking through
woods, he said. The challenge is evident as he struggles to his feet
after kneeling before George Smith's flat stone and admonishes two
visitors never to get old. For a man who spends a great deal of time in cemeteries, mortality would seem to be much on his mind. Yet Roberts said he does not have a burial plot set aside for himself. "I'm not thinking that far ahead."
Last update : 09-03-2008 01:23
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