On the river side of St. Joe Road, about one-tenth of a mile east of Notestine Road in Allen County north of Fort Wayne, is a beautiful old graveyard on a hill by the river. There is a home adjacent, so a person needs to be careful so as not to disturb the homeowners. The cemetery is small, and no longer in use, but it is an excellent location to study old stones or to do some genealogical research. Many cemeteries or graveyards are documented on line these days, so a person can look up their ancestors or simply read about the folks who are buried there.
According to the Mary Penrose Wayne Chapter NSDAR, Notestine cemetery was documented in this way in 2008. Many very old graves were found, including some of people who had been born in the 1700s. Some of the sentiments inscribed on some of the tombstones are very touching. It gives us a glimpse into the sometimes short, sometimes long lives of the "residents" who have passed on.
For example, at the grave of Mary Coleman, who died in 1876 at the age of 35 years, this is inscribed on her stone: Dearest Mary, thou hast left us. Here thy loss we deeply feel, but 'tis God that has bereft us. He can all our sorrows heal.
Furthermore, Selden, a 2 1/2 year old son of hers, died in 1870. On his tombstone is inscribed: sleep, Selden, sleep Sleep sweet beneath the sod. For while we look upon your grave, your spirit rests with God.
There are many grave sites for children - we take for granted how for the most part, our lives are much longer than those who came before us. There were twin sons, first names of Andrew and Jackson. One died at 6 years, the other at only one year, eight months. For that child, the inscription reads: lovely babe, how brief thy stay. Short and hasty was thy day.
Walking along, I saw a grave for a 13-year-old, and one for an eleven-year-old, among the fall leaves still blowing about before the onset of spring. I saw graves for daughters of the Grubb family: a 9-month-old, a 1-month-old, and then the mother herself, who died years later at age 55. Some families were silent on their stones, some were fond of poetry. One read: a little flower of love that blossomed but to die. Transplant not above to bloom with God on high.
For one wife was written: call not back the dear departed, anchored safe where storms are. On the border land we left them, soon to meet and part no more.
I was happy to find not all the deceased had died young. Charles and Margaret Shriner were born in 1795 and 1783 respectively. These old timers had emigrated from New Jersey to Indiana, and the gentleman lived to the ripe old age of 86. Good for him. I bet if you did a little work and research, you could find an old cemetery like Notestine near you, and you could do a little exploring and wondering for yourself. The world awaits.
I grew up and lived just down the street and found this cemetery accidentally one day. I've always been immensely interested in history, and tried to visit this cemetery many times when I was in my teens and twenties. Always got threatened by the homeowners next to it, they had guns. Never once managed to enter it. So I'm thrilled that I came across this description finally after so many years of this cemetery being a mystery to me. Very sad though that now I live 1200 miles away and will never get to see it.
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