Near my house is a 4500 and some odd acre tract of reclaimed strip mines called Perry State Forest. For those who don't know what a strip mine is, basically the coal company comes and scrapes all the dirt and rocks out of an area. They dig down into the earth sometimes hundreds of feet until they reach the coal. Decades ago when the coal was removed, that's where the process stopped, the coal company just packed up and left a huge gaping crater in the ground, surrounded by shale fields and wasteland. Now there are laws making the coal companies clean up after themselves somewhat, but the land is still pretty much worthless even after it has been reclaimed, and will be so probably for the future of the human race. The result is Perry State Forest. Inside, the three largest of these strip pits are named Lake Buckeye, Lake Essington, and Miles Lake.
This is Lake Essington. It looks lush and peaceful, and it is to an extent. But what can't really be told from the picture is that this is a sulphur pond. In the 90s there was a study done on this pond to find out how bacteria metabolize the sulphur in strip pits like this. The study showed that in the summer time when the bacteria are active they were only able to consume less than half of the sulphur that leaches into the water, and in the winter it's even less than that, something like 10%. Exess sulphur that the water can't hold is deposited as CaSO4. What this means is that the lake has no means to clean itself and it will be devoid of life forever.
Across the access road from Lake Essington is what this thread is all about. I've spent many years walking through Perry State Forest, but it's a big place. I was never aware that there was a cemetery inside it's borders. I saw the new sign and became intrigued. I love cemeteries, especially old ones. I like to walk around in them and look at the stones, see the lichens and mosses growing on them, and try to imagine what things must have been like for the people there when they were alive. I tried to take this picture so that you can see where the sign is pointing. There's kind of a bank there, and a thin strip of grass between the sign and the woods. I see no cemetery, so it must be inside the trees.
On the edge of the woods there are growing some wild daylillies, or cow lillies. These grow everywhere, and aren't a sign of human activity.
Inside the woods looks green and peaceful. Still no sign of a cemetery, but there seems to be a very faint trail. I see an orange ribbon hanging in a tree up ahead. Those less wood crafty sometimes leave ribbons in the trees, Hansel and Grettle style, so they can find their way back. It would appear that all I have to do is follow the ribbons that the last person left. More convenient, but less fun. I like to find things on my own. I almost took the ribbons down so as not to spoil it for the next guy, but I didn't.
Not far ahead I see periwinkle growing on the ground. Periwinkle is not a native plant, but it is common around places where people live, or used to live. I knew I was getting close.
And here it is. Not much to see, but worth the walk in the woods. It looks like the coal company scooped up the tombstones, and the foundation stones of a small house into a big pile, and stripped around it. The stones are broken and very old, and not much can be read of them, but one of the stones clearly has the initials Z.S. I do not believe that the actual graves are here, just the relocated stones since they are all in a pile. Some more shots in and around the cemetery here, here, here, and here. This stone looks like a foundation stone, but i don't know what's up with the strange hole in it. Maybe it was held in place by a piece of wood or something. I don't know. This stone has a lot of writing still visible on it. It belongs to Rachel Shreve, who died in 1825. This stone has the most discernable information of them all.
It's kind of ironic. I can't find any information about these people on the internet. A perusal of the local library may turn something up, maybe not. They were probably settlers who helped tame the land that became Ohio. They lived out their entire lives never imagining that someday people all over the world would be reading about them, and even know their names. Gives me kind of a strange feeling.
I just realized that this post shows the coal companies in sort of a negative light. This isn't my intention at all. The coal companies of Ohio helped make our state, and even our nation what it is today. Without them, who knows how things might have turned out? I'm not going to be the judge of anybody, I'm just showing a piece of history as it turned out.
Just one more deep thought. I'm kind of disappointed that the little cemetery has fallen into such a state of decay, especially since there are still people in my county named Shreve who must certainly be decendents of these people, but really, should I be? I believe that the earth belongs to the living, and that tying up the land with graves is wrong. I'm going to be cremated when I die so that I'm not still taking up real estate years after I no longer need it. Today, when people buy plots of land, and tombstones, and get burried in a cemetery, do they expect that their graves will be intact forever? For the future of planet earth? Forever is a long time. I never understood this, and I'm curious about it. That's a little shortsighted if that's the case. Eventually all the land all over the whole world would be a big graveyard, and there would be no room left for the living. On the other hand, graves like those of the Shreves have historical merit in a sense. Should they be preserved at all? How do you feel about this?
Let me know what you think.
This is Lake Essington. It looks lush and peaceful, and it is to an extent. But what can't really be told from the picture is that this is a sulphur pond. In the 90s there was a study done on this pond to find out how bacteria metabolize the sulphur in strip pits like this. The study showed that in the summer time when the bacteria are active they were only able to consume less than half of the sulphur that leaches into the water, and in the winter it's even less than that, something like 10%. Exess sulphur that the water can't hold is deposited as CaSO4. What this means is that the lake has no means to clean itself and it will be devoid of life forever.
Across the access road from Lake Essington is what this thread is all about. I've spent many years walking through Perry State Forest, but it's a big place. I was never aware that there was a cemetery inside it's borders. I saw the new sign and became intrigued. I love cemeteries, especially old ones. I like to walk around in them and look at the stones, see the lichens and mosses growing on them, and try to imagine what things must have been like for the people there when they were alive. I tried to take this picture so that you can see where the sign is pointing. There's kind of a bank there, and a thin strip of grass between the sign and the woods. I see no cemetery, so it must be inside the trees.
On the edge of the woods there are growing some wild daylillies, or cow lillies. These grow everywhere, and aren't a sign of human activity.
Inside the woods looks green and peaceful. Still no sign of a cemetery, but there seems to be a very faint trail. I see an orange ribbon hanging in a tree up ahead. Those less wood crafty sometimes leave ribbons in the trees, Hansel and Grettle style, so they can find their way back. It would appear that all I have to do is follow the ribbons that the last person left. More convenient, but less fun. I like to find things on my own. I almost took the ribbons down so as not to spoil it for the next guy, but I didn't.
Not far ahead I see periwinkle growing on the ground. Periwinkle is not a native plant, but it is common around places where people live, or used to live. I knew I was getting close.
And here it is. Not much to see, but worth the walk in the woods. It looks like the coal company scooped up the tombstones, and the foundation stones of a small house into a big pile, and stripped around it. The stones are broken and very old, and not much can be read of them, but one of the stones clearly has the initials Z.S. I do not believe that the actual graves are here, just the relocated stones since they are all in a pile. Some more shots in and around the cemetery here, here, here, and here. This stone looks like a foundation stone, but i don't know what's up with the strange hole in it. Maybe it was held in place by a piece of wood or something. I don't know. This stone has a lot of writing still visible on it. It belongs to Rachel Shreve, who died in 1825. This stone has the most discernable information of them all.
It's kind of ironic. I can't find any information about these people on the internet. A perusal of the local library may turn something up, maybe not. They were probably settlers who helped tame the land that became Ohio. They lived out their entire lives never imagining that someday people all over the world would be reading about them, and even know their names. Gives me kind of a strange feeling.
I just realized that this post shows the coal companies in sort of a negative light. This isn't my intention at all. The coal companies of Ohio helped make our state, and even our nation what it is today. Without them, who knows how things might have turned out? I'm not going to be the judge of anybody, I'm just showing a piece of history as it turned out.
Just one more deep thought. I'm kind of disappointed that the little cemetery has fallen into such a state of decay, especially since there are still people in my county named Shreve who must certainly be decendents of these people, but really, should I be? I believe that the earth belongs to the living, and that tying up the land with graves is wrong. I'm going to be cremated when I die so that I'm not still taking up real estate years after I no longer need it. Today, when people buy plots of land, and tombstones, and get burried in a cemetery, do they expect that their graves will be intact forever? For the future of planet earth? Forever is a long time. I never understood this, and I'm curious about it. That's a little shortsighted if that's the case. Eventually all the land all over the whole world would be a big graveyard, and there would be no room left for the living. On the other hand, graves like those of the Shreves have historical merit in a sense. Should they be preserved at all? How do you feel about this?
Let me know what you think.
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