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Gravin' with Auntie - Part 6
ASHBY CEMETERY, Lawrence County, Arkansas |
Lavon Huskey and Aunt Nancy Jane Sharp Odom |
Looking back on the hectic month of May in Arkansas....a lot of things happened that really brought me closer to all the cousins that were new to us. Lavon Finas Huskey was one of the best of all encounters.
It, also, seems that the turning point of our adventures started in Mt. Zion Cemetery that lead us to Polston Cemetery. There we met Lavon and Dr. Hal. From that moment on, Lavon became dear to us. In fact, as silly as it seems as I look back, I kissed his hand. While in Polston Cemetery talking with Lavon and Dr. Hal we asked about Ashby Cemetery...that was one of the many on our list to visit and photograph. Immediately, Lavon said he would take us there in his truck.
He asked us to wait for him as he had some work that he needed to attend to for Dr. Hal...but true to his word, Lavon came back in an hour or so and we followed him to his shop in Saffell. Leaving my car there we climbed into his pickup for a wild ride! The land was so flooded where ever we went we were in mud or water. He started out to take us into the cemetery by, what he said, was the front side. Then we met water...deep water...but never fear he said...we could go a back way. But to be sure we stopped at a house where some of his kin lives. The young woman came out and they conversed for a while. He climed back into the truck and told us we could make it by the back way as the water had gone down a lot.
Well, off we went, bumps, water holes, mud and all...he was determined to take us there. And we were glad! Down several dirt roads...one guarded by 3-4 dogs of a unique group, pack or whatever they are called. A little small cute whitish, unknow orgin of a dog, a large yellow colored dog, a small puppy that look like a small replicate of the large yellow dog and one that was, probably, a mix of 10 or 12 breeds, he was big, brown and wagged a very large tail. Aunt and I enjoyed that little gang of "watchdogs" very much. They lay in the shade on the side of the road and "watched" as we passed. The big yellow dog raised it's head and barked ...one time. None of them bothered to challange us for the roadway. I figure that the little band is laying there today. GUARDING THE HOME PLACE, the shade at the side of the road.
We then started across a field and I was trying to write down directions...what do you write...turned into a field...which field where...who knows. From there we went through a gate, closed the gate...then through another gate, closed that gate behind us. Then there we were. Well, at least, Levon said there we were.
No one would have know "there we were", all the stones are flat against the ground and no sign of a cemetery any where otherwise, The cemetery sits within the wooded area of the field. It has a nice barbed wire fence around it...but...guess what? NO ENTRY GATE...you have to climb over the fence.
Lavon and I made it over into the cemetery. He would clean and I would click..then we found a gravestone on a grave...which we later found out that person was not actually buried there. It seems he needed a stone and they used one of his relatives stone to mark his grave...hmmmmmmm.
All done and back over the fence...well, wait a minute...as I went over the croch of my levi's caught in the barbed wire. Could not go over and could not come back...Embarrassed I ask Lavon for assistance. He was, like me, unsure of how to get the wire out of my....croch. Finally, in a desperate move I asked him to just yank it straight down...and he did and my pants croch tore all the way down...but we had the pictures and we were finished and we were happy. And actually the breeze through the ripped pants was refreshing....Going back to the pickup he and I were laughing our heads off...as we came to the door of the truck Aunt's eyes were like saucers...the rest is too funny to relate...
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