Mountain Laurel & Coal

I’m certain all of my female ancestors owned some sort of sewing basket, box, or tin filled with buttons, pins, scissors, needles, and thread.   My mother, Roberta, a talented sewist, couldn’t contain her supplies to a sewing kit, and instead had boxes of patterns and an extensive stash of fabric that spilled into every room of her home. Her mother, Blanche, who made most of her own clothes, also had quite a few sewing supplies. And, I believe Blanche’s mom Annabelle, who tatted lace, must have kept her supplies in some sort of container. My paternal grandmother Ruth had a tin with buttons, some needles, and thread, but her skills we limited to basic mending. I don’t think she even owned a sharp pair of scissors.  I regret that I don’t have many of their sewing notions, but I do have a couple of my mom’s patterns; a 1977 McCall’s Raggedy Ann pattern that my Grandmother Blanche used to teach me how to sew; and my Grandmother Ruth’s buttons. Yesterday, Abby and I visited an antique store

It’s not every day that you discover an unknown and uncared-for cemetery, but I did and it only took me about 30 years. In the mid-1990s, I found a copy of Caldwell’s Atlas from 1876 which had a map of Bentleyville that listed a cemetery near the Methodist Church in Bentleyville. Interestingly, there wasn’t a cemetery there. I asked around, but no one seemed to know anything about a cemetery in the middle of town. Finally, I talked to someone who knew about it, but they dismissed it by saying that it was probably for "paupers.”  I thought it had been paved over or something had been built on it and this was upsetting, to say the least. I didn’t really know how to figure out what had happened to the cemetery and to be honest, after a while, I kind of forgot about it. Then, last summer my daughter Abby and I were at an antique fair and I found a copy of the Caldwell’s Atlas map of Bentleyville. I bought it and when I took it home, I saw that cemetery again. Last month, I was t