Reflections
by Ed Hughes
On a June Day
As he rode his lawnmower cutting the new grass at the Jonesville Cemetery, John Davey waved at me as I looked at my daughter’s marker and reflected on our family’s decision to select this spot as our final resting place. It was a sunny, sad, June day.
In his dark, funereal overcoat back in February, John had assisted at Sue’s funeral; now in a light jacket and a cap, he was caring for the cemetery as he does each day. John is the superintendent, a mild man with kindness in his face, a hardy smile and with sensitivity for those whose loved ones are here. He greets everyone who has entrusted him with the perpetual care of this place, and respects our time for reflection when we visit.
John’s father and mother, Jack and Georgia, had taken care of the cemetery in the 1960s before John, and are buried here. Vernon (“Duke”) Wood had been superintendent before Jack in the 1940s and his father (Roland Wood) had done so in the 1920s; they are here. John’s wife Norma, a soft-spoken, graciously welcoming and empathetic woman who serves as the secretary/treasurer of Jonesville Cemetery Association assumed the responsibilities from Georgia (John’s mother). Norma’s father, Milton Hatlee, and his father, Charles Crayford Hatlee, had all been directors of the association; they are all here.
John continues mowing and, later with Norma, trims around each marker dating back to 1799. This is more than a cemetery. This is John’s and Norma’s perpetual love and commitment to their families and my family and to all who rest in this quiet place on this sunny, sad, June day.
Touching the Past
The car pulled up in the cemetery on a hot August afternoon. The extended hand and smile from the woman from NYC was followed by pages of researched information on her GGGrandfather who had purchased a family plot in this Jonesville Cemetery for $10 in 1879. All that remains on the site today is a broken headstone for Eliza, daughter, who had died when she was 15 years 6 months old. The woman and her husband get down on the ground and run their fingers over the stone, brushing away some soil, trying to read faint lettering from a verse from a poem or scripture. Why only one gravestone in a plot which clearly shows burial of perhaps six people? How had the stone been broken? We stand there looking at the site and the cemetery. She expresses her appreciation for showing the site and sharing some information with her. She and her husband drive away, satisfied, having touched history and recalled an event over 100 years ago when a GGGrandfather grieved the loss of his daughter.
Friends Forever
George Edmiston and Reggie Brasholz, along with their wives, had moved from the Bronx and Long Island and met in the laundry room at Hollandale Apartments one day. The two men struck up a relationship which lasted for years. They shared common interests and stories about life in The City and Clifton Park.
Carol Brasholz-Dyer recalls her father once thanking a judge for his courtesy after Reggie had received a speeding ticket. "That's the way he was, " she recalled.
Myrill Edmiston-Steimer recalls how her father and Reggie went for walks together and went to the fish market. On one of those friendly days, they talked about a quiet cemetery in Jonesville.
When George passed away and was buried in Jonesville, Reggie attended the family ceremony and placed a plant there for his friend, recalls Norma Davey, JCA Treasurer.
One is struck by the dates of their passing: George (1996), Myrill ('97), Reggie ('98) and Helen ('99).
Their families have placed their parents' images on their markers. The Brasholzes, a young couple married in the Depression, are seen sitting together on a park bench; the Edmistons are standing together clelebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. They all look out, as they did in life, at the rest of us as we hurry through our lives. You can almost hear them talking, laughing, reminiscing -- these Friends Forever.
