​This Saturday, December the 19th, 2020, Mount Olivet Cemetery will be hosting its third annual Wreaths Across America (WAA) Day. We won’t be alone, of course, but joined simultaneously by the famed Arlington National Cemetery down the road, and over 1,600 additional locations throughout the United States, and at sea and abroad. Each site will include a host of volunteers and sponsors celebrating WAA’s mission of Remembering, Honoring and Teaching through the placement of special wreaths on veteran graves. The wreaths we place are symbolic of these three tenets.

​The symbolism of wreaths has been used at funerals since at least the time of Ancient Greece, to represent a circle of eternal life. Evergreen wreaths were laid at the burial place of early Christian virgin martyrs in Europe, the evergreen representing the victory of the eternal spirit over death.

By the Victorian era, the symbolism of flowers had grown to become an elaborate language, and the symbolism of funeral wreaths was no exception. Flowers represented life and resurrection. Specific flowers were used in funeral wreaths to represent particular sentiments. Cypress and willow were used for crafting wreath frames, and were associated with mourning by the Victorians.
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For the last century, wreaths have been commonly laid at the tombs of soldiers and at memorial cenotaphs during Memorial Day and Remembrance Day ceremonies. Wreaths may also be laid in memory of persons lost at sea, either from an accident or due to navy action. In a memorial service at sea, the wreath is lowered to the water and set adrift.

Back to Mount Olivet, we have over 4,000 men and women buried here who served in the US military. Many of these participated in active combat in conflicts including the American Revolution, War of 1812, the Mexican War, American Civil War, Spanish-American War, the World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, the Persian Gulf War and Afghanistan. As we do more and more research, we seem to find our total number of vets growing.
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Decedent graves are currently marked with small flaglets, courtesy of a great effort put forth by community volunteers who came out on an unseasonably warm day early last month on November 7th. We had a few other dedicated individuals who performed this task amidst rain downpours on Veterans Day itself, November 11th. Thanks to these fine folks, we got the task complete. 

These flags will serve a secondary role on Wreaths Across America Day as they will act as beacons for wreath placement, and symbolic proxies as over half our veterans’ graves will not be adorned with wreaths. You see, only 1,692 wreaths were bought/sponsored this year, plus we did not get a “1 wreath to 2 wreaths sold match” as was the case last year. Recently, on our social media site of Facebook and company website, we’ve asked participants, volunteers and others to consider bringing extra wreaths to the event (or come to the cemetery after the event) in an effort to cover more graves. Just know, that this gesture will be appreciated in ways none of us can ever fully grasp.

Let it Snow
This year, we "plow" forward, both literally and figuratively. The good news, there's a rosier forecast in store for WAA Day —as the last two years have been accompanied by steady rainfall and muddy tromps across grave areas. This year, we are looking at cloudy skies and no chance of precipitation. However, I did just use the term plow, and also made reference to past precipitation. Perhaps I should mention that we will have a new challenge at hand, thanks to our first snow of the season, falling just a few days in advance of Wreaths Across America Day.
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This past Wednesday we received over half a foot of snow. Luckily, the flaglets are still visible, and this is also why I suggested having them in place (for helping us find graves in the event of snow). Keep in mind that most vets have graves marked with ground level/recessed, government-issue military plaques, usually made of bronze or granite. One inch of snow, let alone 6-8" can turn the WAA Day into a “Where’s Waldo” mystery find/hunt. Oh, the wild weather of December, and the reason very few outdoor events are scheduled in wintry months with notable exceptions such as Frederick’s annual Kris Kringle Parade and Polar Bear plunges at a plethora of nearby rivers, lakes, bays and oceans.

​Our opening ceremony this year will again take place at the World War II Monument on the west side of Area EE. Here one can find a unique memorial boasting two columns, bookending an eternal flame monument and covered by the names of World War II vets who perished over 75 years ago. 

​Fanned out as an arch around these objects, you will find the graves of 30 veterans who lost their lives while in active duty. I’ve written about half of these individuals over this 75th anniversary year marking Victory in Europe and Victory in Japan. We are equally thankful to all the veterans here who gave their lives for our freedoms, but just like the case in 2018 marking the 100th anniversary of the end of World War I, this is a great time to put a spotlight on the World War II soldiers, sailors, flyers, etc. whose lives lived were tragically cut short. The famed five-star general George S. Patton, Jr. said:

“It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather, we should thank God that such men lived.”

I want to talk about a few of these men, and a woman, among those we will be honoring this weekend. Specifically, I am singling out seven buried within Area EE, home to the forementioned World War II Monument, and cornerstone of our Wreaths Across America Day commemorations since December, 2018. This section has 242 veterans buried within. With the introduction to the seven resting in peace here in Area EE, I will let obituaries and news articles (found in local newspapers) do most of the storytelling of each of these former Frederick residents.

​With my introduction to follow of seven individuals resting in peace here in Area EE, I will let obituaries and news articles (found in local newspapers) do most of the storytelling about these former Frederick residents.

Wesley Dewey Dolan
Among those men buried within the confines of the World War II Monument here at Mount Olivet, one was named Wesley Dewey Dolan. S/Sgt. Dolan was born on December 12th, 1922, who knows, had he lived through the war, he could have celebrated his 98th birthday earlier this week?

Wesley was the son of Mabel Belvin and Dewey Michael Dolan of Brunswick, at which place he spent his childhood. The Virginia native moved with his family to this place because his dad was employed as a brakeman for the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad. The family lived at 309 Maple Avenue and Wesley attended local schools. He graduated from Brunswick High School in 1940 and went to work as a clerk in a grocery store. He entered into military service on June 30th, 1942, possibly at the urging of his father who served in the United States Marine Corps in World war I, rising to the rank of staff sergeant. 

​Wesley D. Dolan served in the Air Corps of the US Army, and was assigned to the 442nd Army Air Force Bombardier Squadron. More specifically, Wesley Dewey Dolan served as a gunner and radioman on a bomber plane. 

In searching for more information about S/Sgt. Dolan's death, I stumbled upon an announcement that a religious service in Dolan's honor took place in March of 1944 in his hometown of Brunswick. 

Of additional interest was a brief mention of Wesley Dolan in a modern day memoir found on the internet. it was written by a gentleman named John (Jack) Harpster, a fellow member of the 320th bomb group under the 442nd Squadron assigned to the same B-26 bomber as Dolan. I include a link to Mr. Harpster's website: ​     320thbg.org/harpster_7.html    

​Here is a brief passage from the website that actually gave me a mild case  of "researcher heartburn." It is, of course, in Mr. Harpster's own words and paints a bit of a picture for us regarding Dolan's final mission aboard a bomber plane given the name of "Shif"less.

"Newly arrived B-26 crews were first individually flown into combat with a seasoned experienced crew and then released to fly with their own stateside assigned crew. In the case of the pilots, they usually flew 6 or more missions as copilot to learn the ropes depending of course on crew availability or shortages. My introduction to combat gave rise for some serious soul searching and concern about ever completing even the magical 40 missions. My first three missions for example are spelled out by reprint (with express approval of the writer) of my personal diary I kept throughout combat days. Please forgive the childish oratory that hasn’t improved much over the past half century. Here was my December 10, 1943 introduction to combat:
 
#1. Well I finally got my first mission in and it nearly was my last. The target was a railroad bridge in a marshaling yard south west of Niece, France. No flak or fighters and was really a milk run. But the take off was the closest to death I ever want to come. We got caught in the prop wash of the planes ahead of us. Nearly slow rolled 10 feet off of the ground. Awfully silent and scarred me to death. We had absolutely no control and had only 140 m.p.h. Missed the ground by inches several times, but finally got straightened out. Flew very cautiously after that believe me. Rather tired after my first, of forty. I pray.
 
#2. What a day!! The target - a bridge east of Cannes, France. Our position, a spare ship to fill in anywhere if one dropped out. The  lead ship of #3 element dropped out and we filled in. The coast of France came up and we began the run on the target. It was a beautiful bridge, easy to see. Then the flak started!!! They had us pegged perfectly and the sky was black with it. There were three hits in the bombardiers area alone and each time I thought he was a goner. "Bombs Away" and the break was to the right. Waist-top turret man badly hit, engineer wounded - plane punctured many times, many places, engines, compartments and wings. We were leaking oil and hydraulic fluids. Emergency landing in Corsica - 800 yard runway. A DC-3 crashed on the same field: 10 minutes later. The top turret man was dead with ack ack wounds in his head. Engineers arm was broken and pierced by flak. Our ship was too badly damaged to take off - so stayed in Corsica for the night. We returned to Sardinia the next afternoon by courier - a DC-3. Got to see the town there, much nicer than Sardi - rather modern and interesting. Hope to return under different circumstances.
 
On this 18 December mission the flak was unusually heavy and 12 of the 38 planes in our formation were hit.
 The engineer, S/Sgt Wesley Dolan spent a month in the hospital after which he fully recovered. He was awarded the DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross) for his bravery in trying to help the deceased top turret gunner and then manning the top turret position himself in spite of a dangling arm."

So, this reminiscence did not make sense as it said that Dolan survived the mission after bravely trying to rescue the gunner. After reading Herbert Adkin's letter to Dolan's fiancee, Adelaide Webber, again, I truly believe that Mr. Harpster got the two (Dolan and Adkins) confused. I particularly believe this because Mr. Adkins apologized for his delay in writing because he was laid up with an arm wound and Harpster mentions that this was the injury to his supposed "Dolan." 

And because I am Chris Haugh, I tend to go down history rabbit holes in search of the truth. I could not find a Corp. Herbert Adkins, but did find a Frank E. Adkins who received the Distinguished Flying Cross for his bravery in aviation. This guy was the real deal, and I believe it could be him. I have included a bio and learned that he was sent to the European theater of war after great heroics in the Pacific. I also learned that Dolan's fiancee rightfully moved forward with her life.

As the earlier article states, Dolan's body was originally buried on the island of Corsica during a gas stop. Jack Harpster said that this "gas stop" involved a crash landing. Anyway, Wesley Dewey Dolan's body was returned to his home of Brunswick in November, 1948. 

​Within and just outside the World War II Monument area, and a few short yards away from S/Sgt Wesley Dewey Dolan’s gravesite lies those of two brothers with ties to World War II. I wrote about one of these gentlemen back in September—PFC Francis Leo Kennedy, Jr.

​Kennedy is buried within the confines of the monument, and two first cousins lie by his side, both also veterans who died as young men. One of these was Charles Francis Kennedy, a member of the 115th infantry regiment of the US Army’s famed 29th Division. He lost his life on August 10th, 1944 during fighting in France. The other cousin was Ignatius Benson Keyser (born October 27th, 1920). Keyser was a member of the 51st Armored Infantry Battalion of the US Army’s 4th Armored Division. He was killed in action in Belgium on Christmas Day, 1944 as part of the legendary Battle of Bastogne.

Francis Leo was the son of Leo Kennedy, Sr. and Flora Victoria Marsh who once resided at 219 E. Church Street in downtown Frederick.  Kennedy was killed on the Tunisian front in North Africa on March 31st, 1943. Previous to going into the service he worked with his father at the Kennedy Stove House before serving in the US Army’s 16th Regiment of the 1st Infantry Division.

On May 30th, 1948, the dedication ceremony was held for Mount Olivet’s World War II Memorial. One of the most poignant moments of the ceremony came with the placing of a wreath of dedication to all those Frederick young men who made the greatest sacrifice on behalf of their country. A Gold Star mother was chosen for this important honor. It was Mrs. Flora Kennedy, mother of Francis Leo Kennedy, Jr. Ironically, she would have the distinct honor of placing a symbolic wreath on the monument on this day.

​Mrs. Kennedy would attend a very important funeral here a few months later on October 5th, 1948. Her son, Francis Leo, and two nephews would be buried here, after having been buried first overseas. Mrs. Kennedy had another son, William Chester, who ascended to the rank of Private, 1st Class in the Marine Corps after being drafted into service in April, 1946. He would also attend the burial service at Mount Olivet for his brother and cousins.
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Sadly, just short of a year later, William C. Kennedy, himself, would die as a result of a horrific car accident near Funkstown in Washington County. The sedan in which William was traveling within, collided with a parked steamroller alongside the roadway. It was remembered as one of the worst in this part of Maryland’s history, compounded by the fact that the four occupants of the car (that a friend of Kennedy's was driving) died as a result. All four young men were military veterans. The September 25th, 1949 edition of the Frederick Post announced to the community the tragic loss on its front page. 

​I first read about William’s untimely death back in early September in conjunction with research for a tour I gave to remember the 75 anniversary of Victory in Japan (V-J) Day. Interestingly, just the other day, I was wandering around in another part of Area EE doing some advance work for our WAA event. I found the grave of Archie D. Whisner, Jr. (born Feb. 10, 1927) had no flag. I had not heard of this Whisner, or though I thought. I made it a point to do some research and found that he was one of the hapless passengers in William C. Kennedys vehicle in Funkstown, that sad night of September 25th. His story is told in the above clipping.

​The two other victims of the accident, Raymond George Brown (b. Feb 9, 1925), and Charles Elmer Linton (b. Aug. 26, 1927), are also buried here on Area EE in adjoining lots to their friend, Archie Whisner.

​Meet the Smiths
Not all veterans die in war or as a result of tragic accidents. To end on a more positive note, what about the majority of former military men and women that have the opportunity to enjoy the peace that not only comes after battle, but because of it? I found two such, who were a married couple, on the southeast side of Area EE, along the cemetery drive that parallels Grove Stadium and Stadium Drive.  Both husband and wife served in the US Navy. They died one month apart and are buried in Area EE/Lot 137A.

These are just a few of the many local veterans who put their lives on the line for us and our freedoms. Whether you participate in our wreath laying ceremony on Saturday or not, please devote a few seconds to remember those US veterans buried in cemeteries and memorial parks throughout the country and world. Like us, they had their regular routines disrupted like we have by Covid-19 and weather events such as this week’s snowstorm. But unlike us, some of these local, young people never had the opportunity “to grow old” in our beautiful town and county.
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And by the way, feel free to bring a brush, shovel, broom to respectfully clear the gravestone and perhaps an extra wreath to place at the site of a US flaglet in one of the sections we are not able to cover with our WAA shipment.

Earlier this week, one of my true career mentors celebrated his 94th birthday on December 9th. This is none other than George B. Delaplaine, Jr.—lifetime newspaper publisher and cable television pioneer.
I mentioned in last week’s blog story that I graduated from the University of Delaware with a concentration in Mass Communications and History. Over 30 years ago, back in 1989, I was hired by one of Mr. Delaplaine’s companies, then known as Frederick Cablevision. As a wide-eyed, recent graduate, I was given my career start here, working as an audio-video specialist for the firm’s local television outlet known as Cable Channel 30 (soon to become Frederick Cable Channel 10). 

Mr. Delaplaine, and the corporation he chaired, gave me the opportunity not only to display my talents, but more so trained me to perfect those talents, while adding greatly to my professional skill set in so many ways. The parent company to Frederick Cablevision was called the Great Southern Printing & Manufacturing Company, incorporated in 1888. Eight years prior, George B.  Delaplaine Jr.'s grandfather had started a printing company with various partners. In 1883, this group started a daily newspaper in an effort to further monetize their print operation. In time, this venture would eventually come to be known as The Frederick News-Post.

This endeavor, originally launched as The News,  would certainly become a family affair, but not necessarily by choice as Mr. Delaplaine's father and multiple uncles were somewhat pushed to work for "the paper" because of a tragic circumstance. Mr. Delaplaine, the third generation under this umbrella, added to the printing and publishing corporation's portfolio by introducing cable-television here in Frederick in 1966. Ironically, I too was conceived in this year and born in January, 1967.

I came into Great Southern at a very exciting time, because cable-television truly came of age in the 1980s and 1990s. When I started, the company had 300 employees in all its divisions. That number would grow to nearly 500 going into the new millennium—one that saw us offering digital products and most importantly, internet service. 

When thinking back on my day-to-day experiences in that job, one word—family— can succinctly sum up my twelve-year tenure before our company, known then as GS Communications, Inc., was sold to Adelphia Communications of upstate New York. This occurred in the fall of 2001. From day one on the job, I felt as if I was part of a family—my employees and staff made me feel this way, my co-workers and fellow managers made me feel this, and my supervisory staff made me feel this. Yes, there were a few bad days and plenty of unique challenges inherent with my job, but when pursuing these, I always felt that “my work family” had my back.
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In respect to that family, I fondly remember working with members of the sister company (Frederick News-Post), not to mention the Randall family members, related through Mr. Delaplaine’s sister, Frances Ann Randall. "Franny" passed two years back in May, 2018 and is resting within our hallowed grounds on Area DD in a lot purchased by her parents, George Birely Delaplaine, Sr. and wife Ruth Carty Delaplaine.

​With it being holiday time, I recall our departmental Cable 10 Christmas parties, and the annual joint holiday party shared with the News-Post staffers. I also recall the annual holiday bonus we received from the family, not to be expected, but always appreciated. In reminiscing with former co-workers from both companies "of old" under the Delaplaine moniker, I lament the slow extinction of the magical entities of large, family-run companies and the atmosphere I have described. If you are lucky enough to work for one currently, cherish and appreciate your good-fortune!

The vibe and company culture I experienced reflected the Delaplaine family (and my connections of George B. Delaplaine, Jr. and Frances Ann Randall) to a T, as they used to say. And with this particular company, that “T” was a symbolic one, found as the middle initial of the firm’s original founder, one all employees would become acquainted with upon their new staff member orientation. The gentleman's name was William T. Delaplaine, and from a historical point of view, it's easy to see that he created a family atmosphere that would shroud a corporate culture passed down through employees over the next 120+ years. 

William T. Delaplaine
In this heightened season of “giving,” I thought it was the perfect time to chronicle the life, and death, of this newspaper and printing icon. With his newspaper, William T. Delaplaine gave the citizenry the news they sought, and in doing so, gave advertisers the customers they needed. Delaplaine even gave back to the community in benevolent ways, something that would always define the corporation and still holds true locally in the Delaplaine and Randall names through with gracious work of respective family charitable trusts.

The roots of this latter attribute actually played a role in part to our subject's untimely death at the age of 35. This occurred during one of Frederick’s first, concerted wide-scale efforts to feed those less fortunate through a hugely, successful food drive. Sadly for William T. Delaplaine, a sacrifice of his own personal health in the name of charity came as a result of tireless work put toward this benevolent endeavor. He died of pneumonia in February, 1895.
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Along the lines of George Bayley in Frank Capra’s holiday classic “It’s a Wonderful Life’”, had William T. Delaplaine never been born, I surely wouldn’t be in the seat I am today writing this blog as historian of Mount Olivet. The “original” Mr. Delaplaine’s grave site is less than three football field lengths away from the desk at which I sit. I often think of this fact, along with his inspiring story when exploring the environs of Area Q which boasts his family burial lot. 

William Theodore Delaplaine was a native of Frederick County, and rose to prominence at an early age with business pursuits begun at twenty years of age. His boyhood home had a direct influence on him as it doubled as a prosperous family business. This was the prominent site known as Michaels Mill, south east of Buckeystown, and located adjacent the Monocacy River and accessed today by the riverside road of the same name of Michael’s Mill.
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I cannot do justice to the amazing biography penned by legendary News-Post writer Folger McKinsey. This was written for inclusion within the History of Frederick County, Maryland, (published in 1910), as part of a tribute to William T.’s son, Robert Edmonston Delaplaine.

​In personal life, William Theodore Delaplaine was married, April 2, 1884, to Fannie, daughter of the late George E. Birely, and a sister of George and Edward Birely, of the firm of George K. Birely & Sons. They have four sons: 1, Robert Edmonston; 2, George Birely; 3, William Theodore; 4, Edward Schley.

​These boys were brought into the newspaper business as children. Little did they know that “the family business” would end up being the life work for three of the four boys. 

​William T. Delaplaine contracted pneumonia through the busy week of the food drive in mid-February. My friend John Ashbury's book entitled "...and All our yesterdays," includes a story handed down to Delaplaine's granddaughter, Franny Randall. She recounted that her grandfather not only lent the offices of the newspaper for food collection and distribution. Mrs. Randall went on to add: 

"He pitched in to help give out the supplies. All kinds of canned goods, flour, any kind of staples like that. Because the winter was so hard, and people were out of work and didn’t have ways to get food and so forth. So it was after a blizzard, I believe, in 1895, that my grandfather got pneumonia and died within a few days. Of course, they didn’t have any wonder drugs or anything in that time, and so pneumonia was like a kiss of death.” 

After a short battle of a few days, William T. Delaplaine succumbed on the 19th in the privacy of his home at 75 East Patrick Street,  surrounded by family members. Folger McKinsey wrote the following passage for his epitaph:

His private and domestic character was beautiful, and his unswerving integrity, and generous, kindly nature won for him not only the love of his immediate friends, but a full measure of public esteem and respect. As would be expected, the newspaper he founded spared no words in their glowing obituary tribute.

William T. Delaplaine was laid to rest on the afternoon of Thursday, February 21st in Mount Olivet's Area Q/Lot 254 as mentioned earlier. At the time, this was the southern boundary of the cemetery's property. 

William T. Delaplaine left a grieving widow, four sons under the age of 10 and a successful newspaper and printing corporation. Relatives, including Fannie's brother Charles, and other professionals kept the business afloat until William and Fannie's sons came of age to run the business themselves. The fore-mentioned Charles also assisted his sisters in raising these youngsters into manhood as he took up residence in the Delaplaine household. 

​So while I'm handing out thanks, I certainly owe one to Judge Delaplaine too, and I certainly would be remiss if I overlooked the original founder of the company as well—thank you William T. Delaplaine!

A familiar name caught my eye a few weeks as I was planting veteran flags on the cemetery’s Area Q. As a matter of fact, I can say it's not only a familiar name, but almost familial. The moniker is not that of a veteran, or a known relative, but I can attest that it is carved upon the face of what can best be described as a substantial monument. The name reads "John W. Cook" (the “W” standing for William).
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Since I was a little boy, my father made sure I knew the story of an ancestor who had come to this country in 1852 from Germany. His name was Johann Wilhelm Koch, and he was my father’s GG grandfather. This immigrant was the pivot point for not only my dad’s first major foray into the wonderful world of genealogy/family history process, but mine as well.  

​Having nothing to do with Frederick, Maryland, my close-knit Cook family have populated the small town of Delaware City, Delaware since Wilhelm’s arrival from New York City in the mid-1850s. I, myself, moved here to Frederick in 1974 from this former river town, known more today for its neighboring oil refinery than for its one-time standing as the eastern gateway to the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal. The town is located in the northern third of the state along the Delaware River, a few miles south of the town of New Castle and Wilmington further up the road.

I have vivid childhood memories of the Cook family “Cousins’ Club,” a fun-loving group that was highly active throughout the second half of the 20th century. They held annual reunions in the form of Christmas and Easter parties. Each summer, a hay wagon loaded with Cook cousins departed town being pulled by a large tractor and headed for nearby Augustine Beach on the river, for the yearly picnic.

​This same group also spent plenty of time together at a shared beach cottage owned by one of my father’s great-aunts bought back in the late 1930s and located in Old Fenwick Island (Lea and 138th streets in today’s north Ocean city). My Dad painted a vivid picture of childhood beach trips with particular memories of adults playing cards and enjoying alcoholic libations until the wee hours of the morning, while the kid cousins were "packed in like sardines" on surplus army cots in the attic, sleeping head to toe, and without air conditioning.
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The reason I bring any of this up is due to the reason that history has a way of conjuring up our own past experiences and memories of family that are no longer with us. I’ve said many times before, in this blog, that cemeteries are incredible portals to connect and give context to not only the past—but “our own personal” past, and those we never got the chance to meet as they occupy much higher stations on our respective family trees.

​In my case, the Cook family progenitors included Johann Wilhelm Koch (1827-1862), a carpenter by trade, and his wife, Catherine Sebastian (1832-1912), who arrived separately in America in the early 1850 from the Alsace region of France.  By early 1862, these two newcomers to America found themselves the parents of two boys, Adam (b. 1857) and John (b. 1859), with a baby girl (Elizabeth) on the way to be born in June of that year. Sadly, Wilhelm died of smallpox in April of that year, only 34 years of age. His son, John Cook, would follow in his father’s footsteps as a carpenter, but also died relatively young at the age of 51 in the year 1911. John's wife had died of whooping cough back in 1903. 

​Surprisingly, my GG grandfather is buried in a very  understated family plot devoid of upright markers in Delaware City’s original Catholic cemetery. He is buried there with his mother, wife, siblings and a few children. John T. Cook's father, “Wilhelm,” is resting in peace just across the fence in the neighboring Presbyterian Church burying ground.

​Well that’s my personal trip down memory road, thanks for joining me. You see, that is what this monument in Area Q did to me—it sent me into a time passage! 

So that's all well and good, but who the heck is Mount Olivet’s John William Cook? If anything else, I can tell you that he was a man with a much more impressive monument than my Delaware Cooks.

John William Cook, Jr.
I learned two things that help tp explain the substantial marble grave monument that sits above his gravesite on Area Q/Lot 260:

1.) John William Cook, Jr.  was a prosperous farmer, and 2.) He married quite well in respect to money and prominence.
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Our subject was born June 18th, 1825, the son of John William Cook, Sr. (1804-1864) and wife Christina Myers (1799-1861). He was the oldest of eight children, five boys and three girls. His father was a German immigrant, born Johann Wilhelm Koch in 1804 in Vlotho, Westfalen, Prussia. This gentleman emigrated to America in the early 1800s and married the earlier mentioned Christina Myers in Trinity Chapel, Frederick’s German Reformed Church, in September, 1824.

​Miss Myers appears to have been a local girl, born at Silver Run in today’s Carroll County, but was still Frederick County at the time of her birth. Christina’s grandfather was a German immigrant who settled in York, PA. The family appears to have moved to the Jefferson vicinity of Frederick, likely close to, or on, Catoctin Mountain. This is where I presume she met her husband, John William Cook, Sr. Both can be found here in the 1860 US Census, and would be buried within the decade in the town’s German Reformed Church burying ground. 

​Christina (Myers) Cook’s nephew, George Washington Myers, can be found living at a locale known as Church Hill on the east side of the mountain on the original Carrollton Manor land patent made by Charles Carrollton the Settler around 1724.His property is shown on the 1873 Titus Atlas in the Buckeystown District. George had taken over the family farm homestead at the time of his father’s (Peter Myers, Jr.) death in 1870.

Peter Myers, Jr. was our subject John William Cook’s maternal uncle, making George Washington Myers a first-cousin. Peter is buried at Church Hill’s namesake “church,” once known as St. Matthew’s German Reformed Church which also shared their house of worship with a Lutheran congregation. The burying ground sits on both sides of Ballenger Creek Pike, and the church today is known as Emmanuel Trinity Lutheran Church.

South of the Myers’ property was “Carrollton,” a 273-acre farm belonging to our subject John William Cook, and wife, Charlotte. It actually came through Charlotte’s family. Cook had married the former Charlotte Thomas on September 3rd, 1856. John had known Miss Thomas for quite some time as he can be found in the 1850 census living on the Thomas family plantation and working as a farm hand. He would stay here on this farm for the rest of his life.
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Charlotte was born on March 9th, 1823. She was named for her mother, Charlotte Thomas, and her father was George Thomas. Both are buried at the nearby Manor Reformed Cemetery, along with an older brother. Four of Charlotte Cook's siblings are buried in Mount Olivet.

I was interested in finding the family farm, but there is not much that still exists in terms of structures. The 1840 brick farmhouse and a few outbuildings were captured (as part of the Cook-Culler Farmstead) a few decades back thanks to a Maryland Historical Trust inventory survey which can be found online at:     mht.maryland.gov/secure/medusa/PDF/Frederick/F-1-212.pdf

​There’s not much more to tell about this couple as they had no offspring. Sort of ironic as the theme here has been genealogy and the layers of ancestors and descendants that a given individual may have. John William Cook had to deal with debilitating circumstances late in life, brought on by paralysis and a few mishaps along the way as the following news clippings will attest to. 

Charlotte (Thomas) Cook would eventually move into the City of Frederick, residing at 76 E. Church Street. She died on June 21st, 1904. ​

​Although I have no relatives of my own in Mount Olivet, I have to say that this substantial, familial marker and monument to the Cooks will remind me of my own family history and how it continues to inspire me to research and learn more about my roots. Who knows, if I go back far enough in that German line, I may find that my relatives may be distantly related to this early Frederick family. Herborn, Germany of my personal heritage is only 105 miles from Vlotho, home to Mount Olivet's John William Cook's ancestors.

When it comes to genealogy, I guess you can't have too many "Cooks" in the kitchen, can you?

​For neophytes to our particular cyber-offerings, the "Stories in Stone" blog features illustrated essays about former Frederick residents buried within Mount Olivet’s gates. Yes, some of these individuals stand out for their unique achievements on local, state and national levels such as Francis Scott Key, Barbara Fritchie and Thomas Johnson, Jr. Others can be remembered for their misfortunes. All in all, most of those “resting in peace” here just lived simple, ordinary lives, and our written online pieces all end the same, with the main subject dying.

I've generally been able to find a "silver lining" of some sort to highlight and mesh individuals and their lives with the context of Frederick, Maryland's rich heritage. Best of all,  I have the opportunity to introduce (or reintroduce) these folks to our readers. I'm sure in most cases, the subjects would be thankful of the "gift of remembrance." Of course, there are some instances in which an unfortunate end has not been readily handed down through generations due to shame or obvious reasons.

​Thanks to the internet, we have the ability to reach readers throughout the world. This novelty has allowed audience members to "reach" back as well, sharing with us stories, pictures and information about those folks who happen to be loved ones, ancestors or just plain people of interest buried here in Frederick's most historic burying ground. To continue that thought, some may find our "stories" immediately after initial publishing, while others stumble upon them weeks, months, and even years later while conducting Google and Yahoo searches during family history research. This will continue to happen into the future, something that makes the research and publishing task involved well worth the effort. A big "thank you" goes out to the internet, as this is true historic preservation using electronic media.

Markers of a Lifetime
With 40,000 interments in our midst, roughly the same population as our state capital of Annapolis, I regularly pass countless grave sites without a thought, as their names are nothing more than “names in stone.” However, as I have found through my research and writings, the monuments and plaques are much more than that. Grave markers, monuments, and tombstones are tributes to, and representations of, past lives. Each provides a tangible connection to the decedent. 

From a religious perspective, I’ve been taught that the spirit of our loved ones will always be with us, and are “watching from above.” Whatever you personally believe, these works in granite and marble are tangible, standing as tributes to lives once lived, be them spectacular, tragic or ordinary.

​Gravestones can bring a sense of reality and closure for some people. For others, they serve to keep the memory of that person eternal. These "stones" stand proof that a life was once lived, and associate it with a tangible geographical  location within a large cemetery or memorial park, church graveyard or family burial ground on an ancestral farm or plantation. This is a lasting footprint.

​Each and every day, I see individuals coming to Mount Olivet to plan and purchase monuments for themselves and loved ones who have passed. Some designs are playful, others are serious. Most can best be described as traditional. I also see people decorating and cleaning grave stones, especially this time of year. For a modest fee, the cemetery provides a service to professionally clean monuments with non-invasive techniques. 

​Thanks to our preservation program, we are now in a position to embark on cleaning and making high quality repairs and restoration efforts to vintage stones on our grounds.

For over a decade, the Mount Olivet Board of Directors had entertained the idea of establishing a preservation-themed fund with the Community Foundation. The idea was first pitched, and championed by the late Colleen Remsberg, longtime Board member and immediate past president. Ms. Remsberg passed away in May, 2018, but not before she saw the Mount Olivet Preservation and Enhancement Fund become an IRS accredited 501(c)(3) public charity in 2017. The mission reads as follows:

The mission of the Mount Olivet Cemetery Preservation and Enhancement Fund is to assist in the conservation of the natural beauty and historic integrity of Mount Olivet Cemetery and to increase public knowledge and appreciation of its unique, cultural, historic, and natural resources through charitable and educational programs.

Putting this in layman’s terms, we continue taking steps to preserve the history of this great “garden cemetery,” a community institution since the 1850s. In doing so, we want to safeguard the cemetery’s historic records, structures and grave monuments herein. We have taken a bit of a head start as can be exemplified by the fore-mentioned “Stories in Stone” articles and MountOlivetvets.com website, along with public lectures and our occasional commemorative events.

​Our Cyber-future
In years to come, we hope to have have much more  online information about those buried here.  
I want to mention the online opportunity that exists now for charitable donating to our Mount Olivet Preservation and Enhancement Fund (MOCPEF) on Giving Tuesday, or anytime throughout the year. A formal partnership was formed last November with the  Community Foundation of Frederick County, our fiduciary overseer for the fund.

Many people are well aware of Giving Tuesday, also stylized as #Giving Tuesday for internet social networking purposes. This event, occurring on the Tuesday following Thanksgiving, celebrates its 6th anniversary this week, as it began back in 2012 by the 92nd Street Y in New York City along with the United Nations Foundation. It's a “tongue in cheek” response to the post Thanksgiving commercialization of Black Friday and Cyber Monday has steadily been growing in popularity, now firmly established as an international day of giving at the beginning of the holiday season. Over $60 million was raised last year on this day.

As mentioned earlier, our Friends group members and volunteers hold the key to unlocking and preserving so much more of our cemetery's rich history. in the near future, efforts will expand to educational partnerships such as school field trips, interpretive historic wayside displays and unique commemorative plantings. Best of all, we will have the opportunity, and more so the financial support, to clean, preserve and repair broken and illegible gravestones and monuments in the cemetery’s historic section.

​We appreciate any assistance you can give, be it monetarily, or simply volunteering family information and photograph scans of relatives interred here. Please click the links below to learn about contributing to our Preservation & Enhancement Fund (Immediate Need Projects Fund or CFFC's Perpetual Preservation Fund), or joining our Friends of Mount Olivet group.

Find the link to the application form below. It may just make unique gift idea for the holidays. We accept checks (made out to the Mount Olivet Cemetery Preservation and Enhancement Fund) and will supply paperwork for charitable giving tax purposes.
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Feel free to reach out to me to discuss further and learn more about how you can help preserve this amazing outdoor and virtual museum of Frederick's history. It's literally and figuratively, the gift of a lifetime.​

“I hope I can be the autumn leaf, who looked at the sky and lived. And when it was time to leave, gracefully it knew life was a gift.”
-Dodinsky
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It's been a highly unusual, and disappointing, year for so many reasons but three things have given me calm and serenity over the past eight months since Covid-19 came into my life and yours: gazing at the ocean, watching my sons play youth baseball and most recently, viewing an array of colors decorating the trees of my yard, and my workplace here in Mount Olivet. 

This past week, I gave extra attention to watching our hard-working grounds crew enact their annual process of clearing 100 acres of “the gifts of autumn," slowly browning as they crumple. That's right, for those of you who dread cleaning up the leaves in your own yard, just think about the five staff members we assign this "arboreal" task.

​This week's "Story in Stone" is no more than an ode to the beautiful foliage that graces our Mid-Atlantic domicile. Thankfully, Covid-19 didn't spoil the leaf-peep show as the vibrancy of different colors on trees is as varied as the face coverings we have been required to don this year. As October turned to November, we find ourselves fast approaching the kickoff of the holiday season with a true weather turning point in December. The brilliant leaves are dissipating, but unfortunately Covid-19 is not following suit. I have to laugh in thinking that unlike us humans, the trees certainly don't look better unmasked.

Below is a time lapse photo documentation of a favorite tree in my personal backyard, here in Frederick. It is an aptly named maple tree called "Autumn Blaze." The three photos below represent different stages over a 40-day duration from October 11th-November 20th.

In case you were wondering, autumn 2020 began on September 22nd and runs through December 21st. It is defined as the season of the year between summer and winter during which temperatures gradually decrease. It has taken on the more common name of “fall” in the United States due to the fact that leaves fall from the trees at this time.

Author Natalie Wolchover wrote an article about the season moniker (autumn) in October, 2012 for a website titled LiveScience. Here is a poignant snippet:
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"Autumn," a Latin word, first appears in English in the late 14th century, and gradually gained on "harvest, the original name for the season." In the 17th century, "fall" came into use, almost certainly as a poetic complement to "spring," and it competed with the other terms.
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Finally, in the 18th century, "harvest" had lost its seasonal meaning altogether, and "fall" and "autumn" emerged as the two accepted names for the third season. But by the 19th century, "fall" had become an "Americanism": a word primarily used in the United States and one that was frowned upon by British lexicographers.
The persistence of two terms for the third season in the United States, while somewhat of a mystery, may have something to do with the spread of English to the American continent at the very epoch when "fall" began jockeying for position with "autumn": the 17th century. At that time, both terms were adopted stateside, and the younger, more poetic "fall" gained the upper hand. Back in Britain, however, "autumn" won out. The continued acceptance of "autumn" in the United States may reflect the influence, or at least the proximity, of English culture and literature.

​I have had a few outside meetings this past year for social distancing purposes, an opportunity to walk and talk in the same vein of outdoor dining and church services. While chatting with a potential college student intern for next spring, I made an amazing discovery just a few yards off a paved lane that aligns Area LL. I spotted a several nearby flaglets (placed for Veterans Day) that had been toppled by strong winds earlier in the week. These gusts were equally troublesome in hurrying the magically colored foliage to ground. As I walked back out to the lane and rejoined my guest, my eye was caught by a gravesite and name I had never noticed before. 

​Talk about irony, as not only had I been focused intently on leaves for the last few weeks, they have made me smile in this most depressing of years. I shared the find with my meeting companion and promptly took a few pictures on my smartphone. Once back at my desk and done with said meeting, I went in search of Leafy F. Smiley.
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I first checked our cemetery database and found that she was appropriately born in spring time, like many others sharing her name. Here’s the computer-generated entry on Leafy F. Smiley: 

 ​Like “a candle in the wind” or, in our case, an autumn leaf on a tree in the same circumstance, Leafy Frances Smiley’s time here on Earth was unfortunately cut short. She grew up with two older brothers Lester Smiley (1904-1986 buried in Indian Gap Cemetery in Annville, Pennsylvania) and Golden C. (1908-1980 died in Bowie, MD). Leafy attended local schools and was the daughter of a noted mason from a long line of men specializing in the trade of bricklaying.

As a matter of fact, Leafy’s father, John William Smiley worked in this profession for over forty years as did three of his brothers. A native of Spring Creek, Virginia, he was a son of a brickmason and was descended from an early pioneer, George Smiley, a bricklayer who came to New York City about 1700 from northern England. Leafy’s mother was the former Alberta Mae Sherfey of Otterbine District, Rockingham County, Virginia. She gave birth to four children before Leafy, however two died in infancy (Mervin in 1905 and John William Jr. in 1907 and both are buried in Otterbine, VA). 

​I would later find that our subject was quite popular and possessed many friends. Leafy attended Frederick High and graduated in 1931. I saw brief newspaper mentions of attendance at area school functions and social events but not much more. I also stumbled over two family trials that luckily didn't end in tragedy for the Smiley family although terrible unto themselves and for others.

Leafy survived the car crash just a few months after graduation. However, she would die four years later,  in the heart of summer. Miss Smiley passed on July 23rd, 1935, apparently after a long illness according to her obituary. ​She would be buried in Area AA/Lot 11 two days later. ​

​In locating Leafy's interment card in our cemetery files, I found that she died of pulmonary tuberculosis. Her father would join his daughter in the family plot just four years later upon his death from a pulmonary hemorrhage at age 67 in 1939. Mrs. Alberta Smiley would die in 1954. 

​Leafy F. Smiley’s grave is shaded by a tree, but it’s no ordinary one. It's a Bradford Pear, and one here in the cemetery that appears to keep its leaves longer than any others around it. With a bit of quick research, I found that this variety of tree regularly has short lifespans and the color often develops very late in autumn resulting in leaves being killed by a hard frost before full color can develop. To me this seems fitting as Miss Leafy Smiley died before having time show her true colors. I wonder if friends and loved ones made the same parallel between your name, vivid life and premature death throughout the autumn of 1935? Rest in peace Miss Smiley, like those leaves as they find their landing places.

It’s been over 32 years since I took Psychology 101 in college, but the lessons learned then still hold true today. Working for a cemetery or funeral home, it’s more than important to be familiar with the famed Kübler-Ross model, also known as the five stages of grief. This theory postulates that those experiencing grief go through a series of five emotions: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

The model was introduced by Swiss-American psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her 1969 book On Death and Dying, and was inspired by research work done with terminally ill patients. Kübler-Ross originally developed stages to describe the process patients (with terminal illness) go through as they come to terms with their own deaths; it was later applied to grieving friends and family as well, who seemed to undergo a similar process. The stages, popularly known by the acronym DABDA, include:

Denial – The first reaction is denial. In this stage, individuals believe the diagnosis is somehow mistaken, and cling to a false, preferable reality.

Anger – When the individual recognizes that denial cannot continue, they become frustrated, especially at proximate individuals.

Bargaining – The third stage involves the hope that the individual can avoid a cause of grief. Usually, the negotiation for an extended life is made in exchange for a reformed lifestyle. People facing less serious trauma can bargain or seek compromise.

Depression – During the fourth stage, the individual despairs at the recognition of their mortality. In this state, the individual may become silent, refuse visitors and spend much of the time mournful and sullen.

Acceptance – In this last stage, individuals embrace mortality or inevitable future, or that of a loved one, or other tragic event. People dying may precede the survivors in this state, which typically comes with a calm, retrospective view for the individual, and a stable condition of emotions.

Well, I’ve learned that aspects of this model can be applied to less serious losses than the lives of loved ones, relatives, friends, pets, acquaintances and even celebrity heroes. What about relationship break-ups? Other disappointments can cut deep as well, be them sports playoff defeats of your favorite team, concert ticket sell-outs, and the closing of a beloved restaurant. Timely, as I write this, what about Covid-19 event cancellations or candidate election losses?

Of course none of these situations rival or come close to the loss of a human life, or even that of a pet for that matter--I'm just being facetious. However, they are disappointments that all of us encounter and have to fight through in our own way. Currently, I can add another example of a life experience to apply the grief stage model, and it's one that I've been dealing with for over a week. The case at hand—the pivotal loss of a “one of a kind" eBay auction that would have aided my dream of creating a museum for Mount Olivet Cemetery. The museum is still on the table, but I missed out on a key artifact that would aid us in telling the story of the cemetery's creation and rich heritage, but more importantly, highlighting many of the fascinating people that “rest in peace” here. The auction in question ended on November 7th, but I feel that I am still fighting through the Depression stage (Step 4). Now for the backstory.

On November 1st, I stumbled upon a very unique item on the online auction website eBay. The site has been very good to me over the last 23 years since I made my first bid. Since that time I have won hundreds of auctions and added to my repository of Frederick History memorabilia and artifacts. Over the last four years, since I have been at Mount Olivet and writing this blog, I have bid on items relating to past stories. 

I’ve scored some letters from Francis Scott Key, postcards of the Barbara Fritchie burial ceremony here in 1913, an advertisement for Wizard Soap made by the Hogg brothers buried in Area H, a calling card signed by famed stage actor Robert Downing, an autograph scrapbook belonging to Maryland’s prettiest girl Clara MacAbee and the list goes on. However, the recent item in question was an early daguerreotype of a young man named William A. Ebert. I immediately checked our cemetery database and found William Augustus Ebert (1820-1851) buried on Area H, not far from our recently-downed Confederate monument and Confederate Row. This was definitely the same individual, and I also learned from the description on eBay that he was a “whitesmith.” I will attempt to explain that term in a minute.
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For those not familiar with early photography methods, daguerreotypes always came in protective cases, often made of leather and lined with silk or velvet. The photos, themselves, were made on highly polished silver plates. Depending on the angle at which you view them, they can look like a negative, a positive or a mirror. If exposed to the air, the silver plate will tarnish.

Not only was this a rarity, finding a photo of a Frederick resident taken before 1851, but more so a major discovery for me as cemetery historian, because the subject at hand was the victim of a terrible accident and subsequently buried here in Mount Olivet.
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The auction’s seller was in nearby Westminster and this rare 19th century sixth plate daguerreotype, the most popular of its kind, measuring  3 and a 1/4" X 2 and 3/4", came in its original pocket display case and included a few old newspaper clippings of Mr. Ebert’s death, and an additional bonus— a small lock of hair. I immediately decided to bid and crossed my fingers in hopes to win this auction for the cemetery, and reunite the daguerreotype with the actual decedent so to speak.

So before I tell you of William’s tragic fate, I want to explain the term “whitesmith,” as I was unfamiliar with this profession, or at least the name. I was tipped off in the obituary that our subject was a craftsman who worked with guns and that “whitesmith” was used in conjunction with “gunsmith.”

​This was still a bit confusing and a simple Google search brought me to a glossary of terms on a website for Classic American Gunsmith LLC (classicamericangunsmith.com) located in Charlottesville, VA. In addition to obvious gunsmith services, the site has an extensive archive of blogs and history related to the making and repair of firearms. The fore-mentioned glossary of terms found on the site gave me the following knowledge:
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IN THE WHITE
Being in the white means that a metal part has no coating on it. It has not been anodized, blued, parkerized, Cerakoted, etc. As such it is vulnerable to environmental conditions and prone to oxidation (rust). As an example, if a blued gun barrel has a dovetail machined into it, the exposed silver colored area is said to be in the white.

I believe that this phrasing comes from gunsmiths (and the blacksmiths who came before them) association with whitesmiths. A whitesmith is either a craftsman who makes, repairs, or modifies things made from pewter or tin, or a craftsman associated with finishing or polishing iron before it was browned, blued, etc. Thus, metal just before it is ready to finish (browning, bluing, etc.) is said to be in the white.

I find the relationship between the “exposed silver” of a gun part rusting to the potential for tarnishing of the silver plate of a daguerreotype if exposed to air. Maybe our subject (and his family) had a hand in making or finishing daguerreotypes in addition to guns? Maybe these daguerreotypes were the work of William and the Eberts?

​Whatever the case, William A. Ebert’s profession would sadly cost him his life.  I will include the auction picture of the clippings that give provenance to the item, but I found a like article about the tragedy in a Baltimore newspaper and also within the diary of Frederick resident, Jacob Engelbrecht.

Well, our Mount Olivet database had a bit of the story and showed that William Augustus was born on October 7th, 1830 and was the son of Benjamin Ebert (1802-1868) as Engelbrecht stated and wife Caroline Maria (Birely) Ebert (1810-1875). He was 14 days from his 21st birthday, not that the number is all that important as he apparently did not drink, being a member of the local chapter of the “Sons of Temperance.” (Of course that’s a joke, as I know that official drinking ages were arbitrary in those days.)
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With the help of some primary sources, I was lucky to find a little more info regarding the background of the Ebert family, including some connections to the fore-mentioned Frederick Civil War heroine Barbara Fritchie and the local legend’s birthplace of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. 

William Augustus’ maternal grandmother was Maria Rebecca (Fritchie) Ebert, sister of John Caspar Fritchie—husband of Barbara (Hauer) Fritchie. William’s paternal grandfather (John Ebert) was a skindresser and glovemaker, which was the family trade of the famed Fritchies. Benjamin Ebert appears to have been engaged in his father’s business but diarist and neighbor Jacob Engelbrecht mentioned in his diary that Benjamin and a friend/business partner, named John Cook, went to Lancaster, Pennsylvania on May 25th, 1829.

Jacob’s thought was that this move was in relation to Ebert taking his knowledge and skill of skin dressing and glovemaking there. However, another source would reveal that Benjamin really removed to Lancaster in order to learn the trade of gunsmithing. 

Benjamin’s father and brothers, John M. and Valerius (a future mayor of Frederick), were practicing the skindressing trade next door and to the immediate west of Mr. Engelbrecht. The Fritchies were involved in the same. The Eberts and Engelbrechts operated their businesses just east of Carroll Creek on the north side of Patrick street and directly across from the modern-day Barbara Fritchie House/Air B&B. 

A second mention (in Engelbrecht’s diary) from late December of that year talked of a double wedding featuring both Benjamin and Caroline Birely, and Ebert’s friend/associate John Cook and his bride. This occurred back in Frederick on Christmas Eve (1829) and the ceremony was officiated by Rev. David Schaefer of the Lutheran Church and War of 1812 local hero. The couples were said to have headed back to Lancaster afterwards. Interestingly, our subject, William Augustus was born exactly nine months and 14 days later.

I asked one of my research assistants, Marilyn Veek, to search for info on the Ebert business and the location of the gun repair/whitesmith shop. After a few hours of digging, she said that an 1843 directory of Lancaster, as quoted in the 1922 Historical Papers and Addresses of the Lancaster County Historical Society, shows Benjamin Ebert, tailor, on the n. side of the 3rd square on King Street, and Benjamin Ebert, gentleman, on the s. side of that square. Were these different men or one in the same? I’m guessing the latter and a separation between business workshop and home residence.

According to the 1850 census, five children were born to the Eberts while residing in Pennsylvania, at least sometime between 1833-1846:. These included: John, Samuel Birely, Caroline, Emma and Augustus. Another child, Rebecca Maria was born in Frederick in 1850.

​Marilyn shared with me the fact that Benjamin had bought what was 67 W. Patrick (now 131-133 W. Patrick on the north side at the bend) back in 1850. This is part of West Patrick Street Square and sits across the street from the County Courthouse Parking Deck. I strongly think this was the scene of William’s unfortunate shooting accident in September, 1851.

Another interesting online source provided additional provenance and this was the website of the Kentucky Rifle Foundation. The website told me that:

“Benjamin and his son John were general gunsmiths prior to the Civil War and were located on the south side of Patrick Street west of Bentz Street in Frederick. By the 1880s they were advertising as Benjamin Ebert & Son at 67 West Patrick Street. In 1895 they were advertising hardware and carriages.”

The Portrait and Biographical Record of the Sixth Congressional District (Chapman Publishing, 1898) which features a bio of William Augustus Ebert’s younger brother, Augustus, discusses father Benjamin going to Lancaster and learning gunsmithing there. It says that Benjamin's shop, the one in question, was just across the street from Augustus' "present place of business" in Frederick, likely a property later known as "the repository", which Benjamin had bought in 1864 as the result of an equity case involving the will of John Casper Fritchie. An abstract says that this property had a gunsmith shop on it.
 
Benjamin Ebert died in 1868. In 1883, his sons Samuel B., John and Augustus (who had been trading under the name B. Ebert & Sons) dissolved the partnership. Samuel sold all of his interest in the property, stock in trade, money, property and assets to John and Augustus. Ebert & Sons, hardware merchants and carriage builders, went bankrupt in 1907. The bankruptcy and end of the family business occurred just a few months after a devastating fire swept their location on West Patrick Street (at the Bend), said to have been one of the worst in Frederick's history.

So let’s get back to William Augustus Ebert. He was originally buried at the Lutheran Church graveyard on E. Church Street as Mount Olivet was not in existence until 1854, three years after his death. 

Our records show he was moved here on July 10th, 1856. He would be joined on the family plot (Area G/Lot 202) by his father in 1868, and his mother seven years later. ​

​Other family members in this lot include William Augustus’ brother Samuel B. (d. 1880), Sisters Emma C. Ebert (d. 1904) and Rebecca Maria Ebert (d. 1914). Sister Caroline (Ebert) Winebrenner is in the lot immediately to the right, and brothers John M. and Augustus who are roughly 75 yards away in Area Q/Lot 139.

I painfully researched, and shared the family tree because of the fact that there were other Ebert daguerreotypes that were up for auction from that same seller a few weeks back. They all came from the same original source, some current day descendant of Benjamin Ebert. I’m thinking that these were William Augustus’ siblings.....but who is who?

​One additional daguerreotype in this collection went for several hundred dollars. I initially thought this to be a brother, but now I think it could be a second image of William Augustus, as he looks similar to my elusive daguerreotype and is wearing what appears to be a military uniform. Those regular readers of this blog have been told on more than one occasion that our early Frederick fire companies doubled as militia units. Since William Augustus Ebert was a member of the Junior Fire Company, I’d bet that he is pictured here in his Junior Defenders uniform.

Well, researching and writing this week’s “Story in Stone” has been somewhat therapeutic. I will always be upset with myself over “the one that got away,” but I will soon enter the Acceptance stage of the Kübler-Ross model. I'm just so glad that I saw the auction in the first place and was able to add to our documentation of this early family of not only our town, but also our cemetery.

A few months back, I wrote a “Story in Stone” to help commemorate the 75th anniversary of “V-J Day” (victory over Japan Day). It featured the gravesites and associated stories of just a handful of our 4,000+ veterans buried within Mount Olivet. This was a great early prelude to the annual events we acknowledge here at the cemetery this late time of the year—Veterans Day and Wreaths Across America Day. Veterans Day, as always, is November 11th and originated with Armistice Day, the official surrender of the enemy during World War I on November 11th, 1918. 

We take the opportunity to plant flaglets on the graves of veterans throughout the cemetery, a task which has also been performed by the local American Legion on Memorial Day. Wreaths Across America is a national program that grew out of Arlington National Cemetery and began in 1992 when the Worcester Wreath of Maine found themselves with a surplus of wreaths nearing the end of the holiday season. Today, over 2,100 cemeteries in all 50 states participate in this amazing endeavor.

​Veterans Day is distinct from Memorial Day in that it celebrates the service of all U.S. military veterans, while Memorial Day honors those who had died while in military service. In either case, you can never thank these people and fellow Americans enough because they are incredibly special, and most are equally humble about their service. They leave their families and put their health, safety and lives on the line for one reason—to fight for our country, and for our freedom. In a world of selfishness, these have already, or are currently putting our needs before their own. Without Veterans Day, many Americans would forget them and the sacrifices they made. Sadly, many don’t care or are too stupid to even understand that freedom isn’t free.

​With the 75th anniversary of the end of World War II, I wanted to put the spotlight on the several hundreds of local men and women buried in Mount Olivet who served in this conflict. Although not here in our cemetery, my grandfather was career Army and served in World War II. He saw action in France and Germany as part of the Battle of the Bulge, unfortunately getting captured near a town named Kesternich in December, 1944. He would spend months in German POW camps. However, he was fortunate enough to return to the states and tell his tale. His wife's brother (my great uncle) was not so lucky, killed as part of a tank division in eastern France and resting in peace at Lorraine National Cemetery in St. Avold, France.

This week, I commend all the Mount Olivet  vets, but especially those who participated in World War II. As representative of those amazing patriots, I'd like to feature a few more of those buried beneath our World War II Memorial in Area EE. This was dedicated on Memorial Day, 1948 and also serves as the site of our Wreaths Across America kickoff ceremony each year.

​We have 30 soldiers buried here, and I have chronicled 14 of them over the past four years in which I have been writing this weekly blog. Thanks to the tireless efforts of my assistant Sylvia Sears, I will share with you brief biographies on six more of these men—all having made the ultimate sacrifice. And instead of me writing biographies here, I will let old newspaper clippings and photographs tell their stories.

Franklin E. Baker was in his mid-thirties when he lost his life in Paris, France during the summer of 1945. The former Frederick businessman resided on the east side of town and owned a taxicab business and a tobacco shop. He took up the fight, enlisting at Fort Meade on April 11th, 1944. Baker soon found himself in Europe after training in South Carolina.

The infantry soldier apparently received a wound in battle which hampered him afterwards. He joined the Visitors Bureau of the US Armed Forces. In August of 1945, PFC Baker died in a military hospital while recuperating from a previous wound. Four years later, his body would be returned to Frederick, and a solemn funeral service took place at Mount Olivet Cemetery on August 4th, 1949.

From one "Baker" to another, Norman M. Wachter left his job at the G & L Bakery in Frederick for the European Theater. While serving as a private in the 135th Infantry of the 34th Division, he survived fighting in North Africa. In May, 1944, he would be killed in battle on the beach at Anzio, Italy.

This Mountaindale native worked for Frederick Iron & Steel before joining the Army in April, 1943. He would serve in the 397th Infantry. Ten days before the launch of the Germans "Battle of the Bulge," Pvt. "Tom" Hossler would lose his life in France on December 5th, 1944.

A last name that appears in several places within Downtown Frederick, this decedent had nothing to do with nearby locales such as Fleming Avenue, once part of a farmstead owned by the family of the same name. I soon realized that I pass his former home regularly as I drive through Baker Park. Richard Fleming, a native of Illinois,  enlisted in the service before he was 18, and was accepted to various  officer training programs but settled on the University of Florida. He made his way to Europe by sea in late November, 1944. Fleming was captured by the Germans on the second day of the Battle of the Bulge (Dec. 16th, 1944). He spent the remaining months of his life in a series of German POW camps, where he developed pneumonia and was released to a hospital in Germany, and then sent to England.

Sharing the Fleming name, this gentleman was no known relation and hailed from Carroll County. As a member of the 357th infantry, he saw heavy fighting in early 1945 as the Allies pushed across the Siegfried Line into Germany. He would lose his life at age 24 as a result of flying shrapnel from an enemy artillery shell. This occurred at a place called Winterspelt (Germany), near the Belgian-Germany border, not far from the famed St. Vith.

I found this passage in George von Roeder's Regimental History of the 357th, and it sheds a little light on the scene PFC Fleming found himself at the time of his death:

​"On the 29th (January), the 2nd battalion crossed the Our River in the face of heavy machine gun and mortar fire and took up positions on the high ground to the west. The Regiment was now deployed in three countries: Luxembourg, Belgium, and Germany (the Our River marked the western German boundary). The remainder of the Division was attacking to the northeast and the mission of the 357th was to protect the Division’s right flank and block from that direction.

On the 6th of February, the 357th was relieved by elements of the 6th Armored Division and moved northeast into Germany to an assembly area in the vicinity of Winterspelt. This was where the Siegfried line began, as well as some more hard fighting. The Division now had the job of driving through these fortifications. The initial attack during the night of the 7th gained some ground due to surprise and the advantage of darkness, but the dawn brought a deluge of fire from all types of weapons, firing from pillboxes seemingly located everywhere. The ensuing days brought a series of actions, fierce in nature and difficult to record.

German artillery and Nebelwerfer fire was heavy and accurate, causing many casualties. The pillboxes were well constructed and expertly placed. Whole platoons of the infantrymen disappeared as a result of a German tactic of giving up a pillbox easily, then subjecting it to artillery and mortar fire, forcing the attackers inside for shelter. It was then simply a matter of covering the doorway with fire, surrounding the pill box after dark, and blowing it in. This tactic that was short lived, however, and the men soon learned that it was safer outside of the fortifications than inside. The Germans learned this to as well-placed satchel charges blew their shelters to bits."

​

Early in the war, Garland Z. Hightman served as the Chief Clerk of the local Frederick Draft Board. He held this post until, he, himself was inducted into the military. After attending various training camps, he was sent to Europe. Not more than six months there, while serving with the Coast Artillery Corps, Hightman was seriously injured when the vehicle he was traveling in hit a roadside land mine in Holland. He would die ten days later.

Garland went to Baltimore to enlist his services in the military on July 19th, 1943.

On this Veterans Day, 2020, thanks and praise once again should go to all of these men, and the 4,000 other men and women resting in peace in Frederick's Mount Olivet Cemetery. 

Halloween (a contraction of "All Hallows' evening") aka Allhalloween, is a celebration observed in many countries on October 31st, the eve of the Western Christian feast of All Hallows' Day. It begins the observance of Allhallowtide, the time in the liturgical year dedicated to remembering the dead, including saints (hallows), martyrs, and all the faithful departed.

Well then, that completely explains the iconic symbols associated with the day (Halloween), at least in terms to pop culture. Fittingly, graveyards have played an important role in the real commemoration of the dead, obviously. But this also holds true in the commercially-based, candy and costume-riddled version because one could hypothetically find many iconic Halloween-oriented objects within a burial ground, or cemetery. Take ours for example. We have a few jack-o-lanterns, and I’m sure a random bat or two, but I am pleased to report that I have not encountered a ghost, witch, warlock, vampire or werewolf in my five years of working at Mount Olivet. However, I must confess that we are not short on tombstones, coffins, skeletons and skulls. Well, we are short on one of the latter, but I will get to that later.

A friend, and former work colleague of mine, Ron Angleberger, and myself, have been conducting candlelight walking tours of Mount Olivet since 2013. The majority of these nocturnal sojourns have occurred in advance of Halloween, and for good reason. Ron certainly has more experience in the “macabre” tour game as he is the brains behind the popular Downtown Frederick Ghost Tours. I’m no slouch either, as I can certainly ”carry my water” as the historian and preservation manager of this historic garden cemetery and love conducting these tours as well. That said, we continue to both try our best to reverently “wow” visitors with the amazing history and stories of those buried here in Mount Olivet’s past. Over the years, the cavalcade of tour patrons has ranged from kids to teens, young couples to middle-agers up to seniors.

This fall, I decided to step back from conducting the general public tour, allowing Ron to take the lead. I, instead, have concentrated on developing/delivering tours to our Friends of Mount Olivet membership group, not to mention students associated with Frederick Community College’s Institute for Learning in Retirement (ILR) program.

​One common stopping place, on all of these sojourns, has been a particular hillside gravesite in Area F. Lot 25 to be exact. It belongs to one of the cemetery’s founding members, while the site itself, represents only one of two built-in, ornamental crypt tombs in our cemetery. His story and final “resting” place has Halloween written all over it.

​The gravesite of James and Ann Whitehill is one to behold, even though it took on a more prominent air in olden days. Today, it just seems a bit more subdued in contrast to its former reputation as representing the prominent, strong-willed resident that it would hold for eternity. This has been the case for the past 15 years, dating back to some unfortunate events which occurred here in early 2005. More about that later, as I think I should start by telling you a bit about the “souls” encrypted here, but they were anything from poor!

The Whitehills
Instead of re-inventing the wheel, I have gladly turned to an old friend of mine, Joyce Cooper,  for expertise on our prime subject this week as she wrote a comprehensive biography on this gentleman and his family for the Fall 2002 edition of the Journal of the Historical Society of Frederick County, Maryland. Joyce relocated to Walton, Kentucky years ago with her family. Thanks to FaceBook, I have her secured as a friend, only a simple “Messenger” message away these days.

I fondly recall the assistance, support and expertise received in my early research and documentary endeavors from the article’s author, Joyce Cooper, a former teacher and longtime staff member of the Historical Society. In respect to James Whitehill, she performed exhaustive research in an effort to glean more about this man because of his connection to many of the items residing in the Society’s archival and artifact collection. Whitehill was a prominent businessman in town and had his hand in all kinds of endeavors, the greatest of which was furniture making, primarily from a location that is very much known today by locals and visitors alike—the National Museum of Civil War Medicine.
​
Joyce did an amazing job in capturing the vivid events of a difficult childhood for Mr. Whitehill caused by an abusive father. However haunted his early life seems, James seemed to keep his head on straight and would rise to become one of Frederick’s leading citizens in his adult life—a true testament to human resiliency. Sadly, he did not have much opportunity to reverse the cycle of fathering to his own son, as a lone child would die as an infant at six months of age.

James C. Whitehill by Joyce C. Cooper
James Whitehill’s ancestral roots were firmly anchored in the British Isles.  While his maternal great-great-great grandparents emigrated from England, his paternal great-grandparents, James and Rachel Cresswell Whitehill, arrived in America from Renfrewshire, Scotland.  They married in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, where they spent the rest of their lives.  Their son David Whitehill, born May 24, 1743, married Rachel Clemson in Salisbury Township, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  The children born to David and Rachel exhibited the wanderlust typical of the period, most of them spreading into central and western Pennsylvania.  Their son John, however, moved to Maryland where he married his fifteen year old first cousin, Mary Clemson, a daughter of John and Elizabeth Haines Clemson.
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Following their marriage in August of 1795, John and Mary set up housekeeping on a farm near Libertytown, Maryland, owned by Mary’s father.  Mr. Clemson allowed them to live rent-free for two years, and provided them with “two horses, some other valuable stock, and household and kitchen furniture.”  The young couple may have had a difficult time financially, for Mr. Clemson rented  the farm to them for several more years at a “moderate rent much below the real value.”

Three children were born to John and Mary Whitehill during their first five years of marriage, with three more surviving children being born by 1815. James Clemson Whitehill, their second child and first son, was born August 12th, 1798.  Unfortunately, young James and his siblings must have known times of great unhappiness during their childhood years, based on evidence found in court records.  A “Bill of Complaint of Mary Whitehill” addressed to “the Honorable Judges of Frederick County sitting as a court of Chancery,” dated April 20, 1815 and presented by John Clemson, Mary’s father and “next friend,” details a life of spousal abuse.
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Mary’s complaint paints a graphic picture of a hard-working woman struggling with a husband who “day after day...was rioting in taverns or wasting their mutual gains in the most criminal debauchery.”  Somewhat balancing the aggrieved wife’s statement was the testimony of Leonard Six, taken October 16, 1818 by the court.  The abstract of his testimony says that “Whitehill, when in a state of intoxication was a high tempered man, but not apt to get out of humor unless he is brought to it.  That when sober, he was as good a tempered man and sociable neighbor as he would wish to live beside.”

Good neighbor that he might have appeared to be to outsiders, John’s wife alleged that she had suffered John Whitehill’s abuse in silence for most of her nearly twenty years of marriage, hoping to “at least ward off his unkindness” by being a loving and good wife.  Rather than showing her respect, if not love, he beat her severely and repeatedly.  Finally, one April evening he threatened to kill her if she did not leave their home in one minute.  Their oldest daughter, Rebecca, described to the court the horrible scene played out before the children:

I was present at the time of the separation of John Whitehill and Mary Whitehill.  He said if she did not go he would murder her.  She begged for God’s sake that he would spare her life.  That she wanted to live with her children.  The more she begged, the more he swore.  He said he had sworn the hardest oath that a man could swear.  That she would go and would give her but one minute to clear herself or he would murder her.  These threats were made in the house.  Mary Whitehill was suddenly driven off without any clothing more than those she was wearing.  A horse was brought for her to ride away on by order of John Whitehill who helped her on.  ‘Twas near sunset.  She went alone except having her infant child with her.

Certain court records indicate that Mary returned to her father’s home. 

On March 9, 1826, over ten years after Mary’s initial bill of complaint, the court annulled John Whitehill’s parental control and gave Mary custody of her minor children.  Hopefully, the court also ruled in Mary’s favor on her request that John Whitehill make “adequate and valuable provisions” for her financially.  Her case was pressing, for her husband had “lately given out that he will speedily leave this state and go into some one of the Western states to reside,” a move that would endanger Mary’s claim and make it “difficult for the complainant to recover the same.”

John Whitehill died in 1829, but Mary lived until March of 1862.  At the time of the 1850 Federal Census, she lived in her own home near Libertytown a few doors from the homes of her brother John Clemson and her nephew Dennis Clemson.

By the time Mary won her custody case, her two older daughters had married, and her son James had embarked on his career as a furniture maker.  He announced his business in the December 14, 1822 issue of the Frederick Herald.
​
James Whitehill
Cabinet-Maker
 
Respectfully informs his friends and the public generally, that he has commenced business in
Liberty-Town, and is now prepared to execute any kind of work in his line, in the most fashionable
and substantial manner, and on very accommodating terms. He also intends to keep on hand a
Supply of furniture neatly finished, and by his diligence and industry hopes to be liberally patronised [sic] by the public

Seven years later he announced the opening of his business on East Patrick Street in Frederick in the April 25, 1829 issue of the Frederick’s newspaper, The Examiner.
Furniture
​
The subscriber would notify the citizens of Frederick-town and county that he has removed to Frederick, and purposes carrying on the Cabinet and Chair Making Business extensively.  His shop is in Patrick-street, nearly opposite the store of Mr. Stuart Gaither, where he can supply all kinds of furniture either of mahogany, walnut or cherry; also plain and elegant chairs.  All orders promptly attended to, and the Work executed in the best manner. Two Journeymen Cabinet-makers who are sober, industrious, good workmen, will find immediate employment.

James Whitehill

​His move to Frederick was not the only major change in James Whitehill’s life that transpired in 1829.  On February 9, 1829 he married nineteen-year-old Ann Campbell, daughter of Bennett and Catherine Devilbiss Campbell.  In addition to the Devilbiss family, Ann’s ancestral lines included such early Frederick families as the Barricks (Bergs), Herzogs, and Stulls.  Just where the newlyweds lived is unknown, but the 1850 Census lists them on East Patrick Street, probably living over his shop.

​According to the 1850 census information, James owned some $10,000 in real estate.  He had $3000 invested in the business, with an inventory of wood valued at $1200, hardware valued at $500, and finished furniture worth $500.  The manufactory, employing seven men whose salaries totaled $175 monthly, relied on hand power.  His household included James himself, his wife Ann, John Flanagan (age 17) and Margaret Hanes (age 11).  John Flanagan may have been an employee, and Margaret Hanes was likely a relative of Ann Whitehill.  No children are listed, for the only known child of the Whitehills, a son named James Campbell Whitehill, would not be born until 1852 and lived only six months. 

​James Whitehill and his employees conducted several branches of business at the East Patrick Street location for nearly four decades.  Foremost was the manufacture and sale of furniture and an associated activity—coffin making.  In addition to coffins, Whitehill offered for sale the “Fisk Metallic Burial Case” with a rosewood finish in his January 9, 1856 advertisement in the Frederick Examiner.  

​Whitehill’s third branch of business was selling lumber and other building materials.  The Examiner of January 4, 1854 contains his advertisement for shingles, lathe and lumber.  In March of 1856, a Maryland Union advertisement announced to the public that he had “just received 150,000 Cypress Shingles, of very superior quality” as well as lumber, lathe, sash, blinds, doors, windows, and frames.  A detailed advertisement found in the Maryland Union newspaper ran for several weeks in the spring of 1856:

Engelbrecht identified another construction project when he wrote, “Nearly the whole winter and at this time Mr. James Whitehill is putting up three small brick buildings at the depot.  Remarkable mild season this.  Friday January 22, 1858.”  In his will, Whitehill seemed to refer to this completed project, describing it as “six brick houses known as ‘Whitehill’s Row’ near the lower depot of the B & O Railroad.” 

Jacob ​Engelbrecht provided further information on Whitehill’s changing business activities in his Wednesday, November 7, 1866 entry: “’Lumber yard’ –John C. Hardt and Hiram M. Keefer bought from James Whitehill his lumberyard in East Patrick Street.  They took possession on Monday morning last.” 
​
This sale involved only a portion of Whitehill’s complete property.  In 1870 Whitehill retired from the furniture business, which was purchased and carried on by Clarence C. Carty and his descendants for many years.

Though retired, Whitehill launched another business venture, purchasing the “brick yard, lime kiln and dwelling out Church Street below and South of the Gas House for $7000 from John A. Steiner,”  according to Engelbrecht’s diary entry for April 13, 1870.  He operated this business until his death.

Perhaps his involvement in the construction business stimulated his inventiveness.  The United States Patent Office holds Whitehill’s application for Patent No. 26,061, dated November 8, 1859.  The letter that accompanies his detailed drawings begins:

To all whom it may concern:

Be it known that I, James Whitehill, of Frederick, in the county of Frederick and State of Maryland, have invented a new and usefull (sic) improvement in Hot Air Furnaces; and I do hereby declare that the following is a full, clear, and exact description of the same, reference being had to in the accompanying drawings, forming a part of this specification…”

Whitehill’s design involved a double firebox, allowing for the use of one or both parts to heat the air in the chamber between them.  Thus, the temperature of the air in the chamber could be somewhat regulated to accommodate the needs of the homeowner as the weather fluctuated.
​
But James Whitehill was not solely a man of business; he took an active part in community affairs—religious, civic, and political.  He was an active member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, being one of the trustees named when an act of the General Assembly of Maryland incorporated the Frederick Methodist Episcopal Church in 1840.

​In 1841 the church purchased a property fronting on East Church Street and extending northward to Market Space, roughly the area now occupied by the Church Street parking deck.  The congregation quickly began work on a new 45’ x 75’ building, complete with a basement and galleries.  James Whitehill served on the building committee for this structure, shown in the 1854 lithograph View of Frederick, Maryland as a two-story structure fronted by a wide stairway leading to the three front doors.  Unlike most of Frederick’s other church buildings, the Methodist Episcopal Church boasted no spire.

Another area of Whitehill’s sphere of community involvement was the establishment of Mt. Olivet Cemetery.  Churches and cemeteries were closely related in Frederick during the first hundred years of its history, when several congregations maintained their own graveyards, often behind their buildings.  By the middle of the nineteenth century, however, these cemeteries were nearly full.  The community urgently needed a new burial ground.  Therefore, the Judges of the Circuit Court incorporated a sizeable group of men—including James Whitehill, William J. Ross, Richard Potts and John Loats—as the Mt. Olivet Cemetery Company in October of 1852.  The next year lots and driveways were laid out on the thirty-two acre cemetery property.  In May of 1854 the cemetery received its first burial.  Jacob Engelbrecht reported:
​
The first corpse buried on the New Cemetery—Mrs. Ann Crawford, who died at the house of Mr. James Whitehill on Sunday evening, May 28, 1854 was buried on “Mount Olivet Cemetery.”  This was the first burial on the cemetery since they dedicated it—there had been several bones removed the week or two before.  Old Mr. Baltzell and wife (father and mother of Doctor Baltzell & several others.  Reverend Alexander E. Gibson officiating Minister (of Methodist Episcopal Church).  Tuesday May 30, 1854.  7 o’clock A.M.

Yet another of Whitehill’s avocations made its way into Engelbrecht’s detailed diary entries.  The diarist often recorded details of political affairs at all levels of government.  As early as the 1830s, James Whitehill appears as a frequent candidate and sometimes winner in Frederick’s elections for Board of Alderman and Common Council.  Perhaps politics ran in the Whitehill blood, for several of his Pennsylvania relatives were politicians; at least three served terms in Congress during the first quarter of the nineteenth century. 

Jacob Engelbrecht chronicled Whitehill’s political career, starting with his unsuccessful run for a seat on Frederick’s Common Council in 1835.  He met with success in the 1836 election, and was chosen to fill the seat of a deceased Council member in 1850.  In each of the next five years, Whitehill was re-elected to the Council.  In the 1862 election for Aldermen, he—and all the other Union Party candidates—won easily, for they ran unopposed, there being no “Rebel” party candidates.

Talk of disunion disturbed Frederick citizens, inspiring a group of them to form a Union Club on February 11, 1860.  They chose James Whitehill as their president.  Soon every district within the county had its Union Club.  Members of these clubs raised Union flags, sang patriotic songs, and pledged their loyalty to the Union. 

​The war years made normal civilian life difficult, if not impossible.  Frederick endured the movements of and occupations by thousands of Federal and Confederate troops, especially during September of 1862, July of 1863, and July of 1864.  Following the 1862 battles of South Mountain and Antietam, Frederick played a major role in caring for sick and wounded soldiers of both armies.  Research shows that nearly all public buildings, including most churches, were converted into hospital wards, and James Whitehill’s Methodist Episcopal Church was not exempted.  It, with the nearby Lutheran Church and Winchester Seminary (Frederick Female Seminary, now Winchester Hall), formed General Hospital #4.  Between September 17, 1862 and January 17, 1863 over 900 men were treated in this hospital complex.
​
In addition to seeing his church used for war purposes, Whitehill saw his primary business change from the furniture manufacture and sale to the undertaking trade, with the establishment of an embalming station in his store.  A broadside advertised an embalming station operated by Dr. Richard Burr, embalming surgeon for the United States Army, with its office located at “Jas. Whitehill and Co.’s, Undertakers, E. Patrick Street.”  In addition to undertaking, James Whitehill provided coffins, wooden headboards, and hospital furnishings to General Hospital #1 located in and around the Hessian Barracks on the south side of town.

​Again, thanks to the Historical Society of Frederick County and in particular, Joyce Cooper and her incredible research, allowing me to tell you the rest of the Whitehill story and how it pertains to Mount Olivet Cemetery, and Halloween.

​In 1867, the Whitehills moved from their East Patrick Street home to a large house on the west side of North Market Street at Eighth Street. The home is located at 731 N. Market Street and was originally built by Hiram Winchester, female seminary principal and namesake of Winchester Hall (Frederick County's seat of government). Winchester sold this to Whitehill for $4,550, a hefty price for the time.  The house became the Frederick City police station and jail in the mid-fifties and remained so until 1982. In December, 2016, this building was opened as the Frederick Rescue Mission’s “Faith House,” a temporary shelter for homeless women and children.

​James Whitehill experienced poor health in his final years. An article from February, 1874 gives us a glimpse of the condition he found himself in.

His health further declined in the ensuing months. James Clemson Whitehill died on July 13th, 1874.  He was buried in a fine funerary crypt In Mount Olivet built into the southeast side of Cemetery Hill (also once referred to as Pumphouse Hill).  His funeral occurred on July 15th and it can be assumed that it was well-attended.

​Ann Whitehill would pass on April 8th, 1887. The cause of death was the same given as her late husband-—heart disease.

So that was that, the Whitehill family was resting in peace—but even this age-old cemetery-centric cliché could be deemed “debatable.” There is a strong suspicion that the crypt was a victim of “grave-robbing” in the late 1890s or early 1900s. Although we have no official records of this occurring in Mount Olivet, these criminals were stealth-like in their attempt to steal jewelry off corpses in cemeteries around the country and world. Crypts (like the Whitehills) were appealing because there was no digging to be done, and you didn’t have to go “subterranean” for the heist.

While I’m on the unpleasant subject, another type of graveyard crime in “days of old” was “body snatching.” This was an even more despicable situation as thugs actually took bodies from their intended grave lots. Why, you may ask? Well, for educational purposes of course. Early medical schools were in desperate need of cadavers. They paid quite well, and didn’t ask questions. ​

​I can practically guarantee that we never had a case of “body snatching” in Mount Olivet’s history, but I can’t give the same surety for the other early burying grounds in downtown Frederick or surrounding countryside. I guess we will never know. (NOTE: add here devilish laugh sound effect followed with “ ba ha ha”). Grave robbery on the other hand could have occurred in earlier days, and actually would in 2005. And yes, our friends the Whitehills and their crypt in Area F were the victims of such a dastardly thing, perhaps more than once. 

Our superintendent of 53 years, J. Ronald Pearcey, says that he recalls the iron door on the Whitehill crypt never seemed 100% secure since the time of his own arrival on staff back in the 1960s. The top hinge had been jarred from its setting in marble, and the upper part of the door near this junction seemed to have been somewhat bent, as if having been pried open at some time by use of a crow bar or like instrument. Ron said that he tried to fix the hinge back in 1997.
​
The opportunity came about as Ron was performing intensive research in updating cemetery records. Apparently, he had no record of Mrs. Whitehill’s actual burial here in our cemetery record books. He decided to visit the crypt and take a glimpse inside to survey the contents. In our possession at that time was a “skeleton key” (pardon the pun) that opened the Whitehill crypt door lock.

​Ron made multiple discoveries that particular day as he found the lead coffin of infant James Campbell at the foot of the crypt, just behind the entry door. In front of him, he saw two metal coffins on the concrete base floor, placed longways, from left to right, in front of him. He assumed that Mr. Whitehill, who died first, was placed in the back/rear and that the matching coffin in front was that of Mrs. Whitehill. The couple possessed metallic Fisk-brand coffins, which Whitehill had advertised in the newspaper back when he owned his funerary business. These were unique caskets, made of metal and featuring a glass “porthole” in which one could view the decedent’s face. 

Fisk metallic burial cases were patented in 1848 by Almond Dunbar Fisk and manufactured in Providence, Rhode Island. The cast iron coffins or burial cases were popular in the mid–1800s among wealthier families. While pine coffins in the 1850s would have cost around $2, a Fisk coffin could command a price upwards of $100. Nonetheless, the metallic coffins were highly desirable by more affluent individuals and families for their potential to deter grave robbers.

Ron commented that the coffins were in a stage of deterioration, rusting and the lids somewhat collapsed. He said that his brief observation showed that the bones of these bodies had been somewhat disturbed, not truly matching up to how they should be if left alone.

A fourth coffin was also in this crypt, off to the right, and placed lengthwise across the foot of the Whitehill coffins. It was a wooden coffin in a far worse deteriorating condition. Research in our records showed this to be the body of Elizabeth (nee Schade or Schaed) Tice, a former tenant of Mr. Whitehill who died on October 25th, 1863. Mrs. Tice was born on May 27th, 1780, and was the wife of George Tice, a tailor, who had died in December, 1831.  Mrs. Tice’s husband, son Henry (d. 1839) and a four-year-old grandson are buried in the old German Reformed graveyard, currently under the various war monuments of today’s Frederick Memorial Park.

A check of 1850 and 1860 census records shows Elizabeth Tice as a next-door neighbor to the Whitehills when they lived on East Patrick Street and ran their furniture business. This finding was an extra bonus for Ron in his record research. Upon completion, he and staff members did what they could to further secure the door when they closed the crypt back up. Obviously, this would not be enough, however.
Ron told me that, at the time, he sensed there had been a prior disturbance of some kind as the caskets didn’t seem to be neat and orderly as he thought they ought to be. This led staff to believe that the crypt had fallen prey to an earlier break-in, but it had not been thoroughly ransacked, rather carefully combed through.
​
I have searched early newspapers and cemetery records, but came up empty in my search for documentation of any early events (19th or 20th century) relating to grave intrusion here at Mount Olivet involving the Whitehill crypt. I could see a situation of this nature downplayed and not reported to authorities in an effort to keep the peace with relatives and lot-holders. As we learn with incidents of vandalism in cemeteries, there is a strong feeling of violation felt by not only staff but all who have a loved one in a particular burying ground, even if just one gravesite has been tampered with or defaced.

Twice Bitten
Early Monday morning of January 31st, 2005, Ellie Summers and Liz Claggett, regular walkers in our cemetery, made a horrible discovery. They found bones strewn about on the small knoll in front of the Whitehill crypt. It had snowed during the overnight, and the ladies also saw the door to the crypt was wide open. They immediately made their way back to the front of the cemetery and notified Superintendent Pearcey.  Pearcey immediately went to the site with another staff member, our current cemetery foreman, Tyrone Hurley, and saw what had been reported to them—the crypt door had been fully pried open, and the display of bones had indeed come from the Whitehill crypt.  Ron then notified the authorities who came out to make a report and investigate.

The group saw nearby car tracks and footprints in the snow outside the cemetery’s only other crypt belonging to the Roelkey family. It appeared that someone had been pulling on the outer gate of this funerary repository, but were frustrated in their vain attempt. The thought prevailed that the culprits hit the Whitehall crypt before the snow had started falling, and then attempted to raid the Roelkey crypt as the precipitation had started accumulating. Because of the snow forecast, Superintendent Pearcey left the gates open so that staff could enter early in an effort for snow removal.

Back at the Whitehill crypt, Tyrone was sent into the structure to assess the damage. He reported that the glass portal on each coffin appeared to have been smashed, and the boxes themselves had been raided of some of their human contents. Tyrone and Ron carefully retrieved the remains and placed them back in the broken deteriorating coffins within the crypt. Unfortunately, they realized that both skulls and a jawbone were missing from the scene. Ron and Tyrone closed the door the best they could, with hopes of doing more the following morning as they had to put their energies toward plowing the 3-4 inches of snow covering the cemetery lanes and roadways.
 
The next day word got out through the initial police report, and a media-circus ensued with news entities from Baltimore and Washington wanting to cover the unfortunate Whitehill crypt break-in. Superintendent Pearcey was interviewed by newspaper and television reporters throughout the day. The crypt entrance way was now blocked by the placement of an extra piece of granite found in one of our storage areas. News Channel 5 (out of Washington) did a live remote report from the cemetery that Tuesday night, and CNN had a team up here as well to do the same.

On Wednesday, February 2nd, the Frederick News-Post would run the following story:

​While the Frederick City Police were conducting their investigation, a unique find occurred near downtown Frederick’s Post Office. The story would make front page news in the February 4th edition of the Frederick News-Post.

​The Whitehill break-in made other newspapers across the area including Baltimore, Annapolis, Hagerstown and Cumberland. The Associated Press picked up the story and it ran in various publications throughout the country. The Washington-Post would also interview Ron about the unfortunate vandalism, now thought to be the work of juveniles.

​The following Sunday, February 7th, brought a new and equally unsettling wrinkle to the story. Late in the afternoon, Superintendent’s Pearcey's son was driving through the cemetery in late afternoon and noticed a lady entering the Whitehill crypt. He immediately notified his father. Here is the newspaper story related to this aspect:

And just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water....this was the front page of the February 10th Frederick News-Post:

​The following day, Ron and his grounds staff worked to fully secure the Whitehill crypt. The Police were still searching for the lone missing skull and jawbone, as the other had been returned to the crypt. Meanwhile, no remains of the Whitehill infant had been removed as erroneously reported in the papers. Fill dirt was utilized to further build up the ground around the crypt’s door, and the granite slab was turned on its side and packed-in tight against the door.
​
The 600-pound marble slab was remains intact since that day. The good news, there have been zero instances of vandalism here at the Whitehill crypt, a true positive. On the downside, however, the missing skull has never been located and returned to its rightful burial tomb. Ironic in a way, as many residents of Mr. Whitehill’s day described the prominent businessman and politician as progressive, stubborn and headstrong. Maybe it’s time to remove the last adjective?

I stumbled upon an interesting wife and husband last spring while researching Frederick’s early oyster saloons from the 1800s. It occurred while I was trying to find more on who I imagined to be a spunky, former female business owner at the time of the American Civil War. The woman’s name was Alice Beck, and she is buried in Mount Olivet. Sadly, she isn’t readily remembered today because she has no gravestone, yet her first husband and father-in-law (who predeceased her) do. All three reside in the same grave lot in Mount Olivet’s Area A, a stone’s throw from Francis Scott Key’s final resting place.
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Miss Alice Virginia Keefer was the daughter of John Henry “Harry” Keefer and Elizabeth Titlow. Born on June 27th, 1840, she grew up here in Frederick City and was a member of the town’s German Reformed Church. Alice would be twice married, her first nuptials having taken place in late October, 1857. Her groom was a gentleman named Jefferson O. Boteler. 

​The Botelers were soon the operators of a restaurant-saloon located at 12 N. Court Street, the stretch that goes between W. Patrick and W. Church Streets. At the time, this thoroughfare was known as Public Street because of its proximity to the county courthouse. The Boteler’ saloon location was sandwiched between the largest hotels in the city (the City Hotel and the Dill House, later to be renamed the Carlin Hotel). Actually the Boteler’s tavern was bounded by the livery stables connected to each of the aforementioned hospitality venues. Today, the Pythian Castle building sits on the old site of the old watering hole.

​Although I wasn’t familiar with Jefferson O. Boteler, I soon learned that his father was someone I did know through earlier research going back nearly seven years. This gent’s name was Edward Sims Boteler, one of 110 War of 1812 veterans interred here at Mount Olivet. His story was a bit different from the norm as he served in a Dragoon Troop in Ohio. He was captured at the Battle of Detroit and spent time as a captive in Canada.

​I specifically singled out Private Boteler’s grave (Area A/Lot 126) for a newspaper photo and article back in 2014. I was working for the Tourism Council of Frederick County then, and had partnered with the cemetery in a grant project in which we received money from the state’s War of 1812 Bicentennial Anniversary Commission to place marble and bronze markers on the graves of all our 1812 vets.

​A special ceremony was held in September 2014 to mark the 200th anniversary of the Battle of Fort McHenry and writing of “the Star-Spangled Banner.”  We had an evening ceremony adjacent the FSK monument with the purpose of unveiling these markers. Participants were led on a candlelight history tour of 1812 veteran graves.  

​As the master of ceremonies, I went one step further in recognizing Edward Sims Boteler and read his bio in which I shared with the audience a few scant particulars about Boteler’s military service. I also reveled in presenting a poignant inscription found on his gravestone. It reads as follows:
​
“Each soldier’s name
Shall shine untarnished on
the roll of fame.

And stand the example of each
distant age.
And add new luster to the historic age."

Edward Sims Boteler was born on March 24th, 1783 in the vicinity of New Town, later known as Trappe, and today recognized by the name of Jefferson, Maryland. Edward’s parents were Edward Lingan Boteler and Elizabeth (Delashmutt) Boteler. Both father and son fought for independence from Britain. Edward’s father (Edward Lingan Boteler) was recognized by the Carrollton Manor DAR Chapter as a Revolutionary Patriot with a DAR plaque.
​
In 1812, Edward’s apparent first wife was a Sarah Elizabeth Norris (b. 1783). The couple had one known child, Henry E. Boteler (1812-1843). I’ve read that Edward would be married a second time to a woman whose name is only known as Elizabeth. The offspring of this union was the afore-mentioned Jefferson Orestes Boteler (b. 1832 in Pennsylvania). Interestingly, this same year of 1832 was the one in which “Jefferson” was duly incorporated and given its patriotic name after our third US president.

Edward Sims Boteler appears to have been engaged in farming and lived in the area of Jefferson, and Petersville to the southwest. He died on November 25th, 1858 at the age of 75. 

​Around this same time, Jefferson was operating the saloon on Court Street with business partner, John McCafferty. One year later an advertisement would appear in the local paper announcing a dissolution of this business, as McCafferty left to take a job running the restaurant associated with the City Hotel, Frederick’s leading lodging place of the time. This was likely when Mr. Boteler had his new bride serve as his business partner, however she could have assisted with the saloon prior.

​Jefferson O. Boteler’s health continued to decline as the year went on. He would die on June 22nd, 1862 and was buried in Mount Olivet the following day, next to his father.  

​Meanwhile the American Civil War was in full effect. Union soldiers had been plentiful in town for over a year. That number would grow exponentially over the next two. In her husband’s absence, Alice Boteler took over sole operation of the oyster saloon, while also raising a son, Edward, two-and-a-half years old at the time. I can just imagine the often bawdy scenes in the saloon establishment now frequented by imbibing Union soldiers from out of town.

​The following September (after Jefferson’s death) the town would receive a week-long visit from the Confederate Army under Gen. Robert E. Lee. They wouldn’t stay long, but certainly left their mark on town before heading westward where the engagements of South Mountain and Antietam would take place on September 14th and 17th respectively. Again, I can’t help to wonder what Alice’s state of mind could have been like through those troubling times, not to mention losing her husband, raising a child and running a business.

Well, the above story just goes to show that you never know what can happen in life. It also echoes the old sentiment: ”What happens in rowdy oyster saloons, should stay in rowdy oyster saloons.” 

​I found an advertisement in the local paper announcing a private sale of Mrs. Alice V. Beck’s oyster saloon in February 1867. For one reason or another, it doesn’t appear that she sold at that time, or perhaps she did sell, but kept a lease agreement with a new owner in an effort to continue running her popular establishment. The Botelers had rented the building up until Jefferson's death, at which time Alice purchased the property.

The 1870 US census shows the Beck family living above the restaurant as was quite common in that day. I found out that Mrs. Alice V. Beck had $4,000 of real estate in her name in the form of her restaurant building. I also found that husband James Beck was listed as a restaurant keeper, but Alice was simply keeping house. Alice's son, Edward was now ten-years-old and the census mentions that he was attending school at the time.

Advertisements in Frederick’s Maryland Union  in the fall of 1871 announced that a gentleman named J. William Brubaker was now the new owner of the former saloon operated by Alice V. (Keefer) Boteler Beck. Brubaker would eventually sell fourteen years later to Lewis A. Hager in 1885.
​
During that run by Mr. Brubaker, Alice busied herself with legitimate matters of home, first and foremost relating to the fact that she had given birth to three additional children between 1871-1874: Nellie Virginia (b. 1872), Mollie Adele (b. 1873), and Willie Justus (b. 1874).

Alice died of pneumonia at her home residence on W. Patrick Street on April 8, 1876.  Only 36 years of  the age, she would be buried alongside her first husband, Jefferson O. Boteler, and father-in-law, 1812 veteran Edward Simms Boteler. As I began the article saying, her gravesite has no monument or marker whatsoever.

​ I found that there are five others in this plot who have suffered the same fate and are blood relatives of Alice from the Keefer family. They include: 
                                                                                    Death Year
​*an infant child of Alice and Jefferson    1859
*Elizabeth Titlow Keefer                                1888          (Alice’s mother)
*Missouri M. (Keefer) Meese                       1860         (Alice’s sister)
*Hiram Bartgis Keefer                                     1878          (4 year-old nephew of Alice/son of L. H. Keefer)
*unnamed Keefer nephew                            1869          (infant son of brother Lewis Henry Keefer)

As was common in those days, the children were unfortunately split up. I learned there whereabouts from the the 1880 census. Here, I found husband James M. Beck living in his native Woodsboro with his sister and working as a painter. He had daughter Nellie living with him. Mollie was sent to live with her Uncle Charles Beck in Hagerstown and Willie was adopted by a paternal aunt living in Woodsboro. The latter would move to Brooklyn, NY as an adult and worked as a telegraph operator. As for Alice's oldest son, Edward O. Boteler, he went to live with his Meese cousins in Wetmore, McKean County, Pennsylvania. He worked for F. W. Meese who operated a hotel there and was married in the 1880 census at the age of 21.

​​James M. Beck died in 1905 and is buried in Woodsboro's Mount Hope Cemetery. ​

As I walk through the cemetery on a crisp, autumn day, I’m suddenly reminded of an idiom found often in British literature—“From the Cradle to the Grave.” It seems so fitting for a stroll through this hallowed place, as I look from gravestone to gravestone and contemplate the lives of the local tenants. Defined, the idiom beckons “From birth to death; the entire period of one’s life; throughout one’s life.” Simply put, this is what the hyphen stands represents on each and every monument, strategically sandwiched between birth and death dates of the decedent.

The “Cradle to Grave” expression is usually used as an adjective, and has been around since the year 1709 when it appeared in author Richard Steele’s British literary and society journal entitled The Tatler. Steele used the idiom as follows:
​
“In a word, to speak the characteristical difference between a modest man and a modest fellow; a modest man is in doubt in all his actions; a modest fellow never has a doubt from his cradle to his grave.”

I thought this expression ("Cradle to Grave") would serve as a nice title for this week’s edition of “Stories in Stone” in which we could explore another unique style of cemetery markers referred to as “cradle graves.” These are also known as “bedstead monuments,” and were very popular in the 19th century, around the time of the American Civil War. A cradle or bedstead is composed of a headstone, footstone, and cradling. These elements represent the headboard, footboard, and bed rails on a bedframe. In 2016, preservation specialist Ashley Shales of Oakland Cemetery (Atlanta, Georgia) wrote that cradle grave monuments portrayed a particular style that appealed to Victorian-era sentiments for three reasons:
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“First, heaven was likened to “returning home,” which was comforting to loved ones left behind because they could hope for a future where they were eternally reunited. A bed is a natural symbol of home. Second, the 19th century witnessed a phenomenon referred to by historians as the “feminization of death.” Public displays of mourning became fashionable, as did more beautiful, peaceful, and pleasant monuments and iconography. The bed is not only a symbol of the home, but of femininity and domesticity.  The third — and the most frequently cited — reason for the bedstead’s popularity is that it likens death to sleep, a notion that undoubtedly eased the sorrows of many mourners.”

​Bedsteads come in several forms and are made from a variety of materials, depending usually on the purchaser’s economic means, available stone, and current fashions. Headstones may be quite elaborate, often featuring iconography such as lambs or lilies, symbolizing purity and innocence. Most bedsteads are made of marble. 

​Headboard and Footboard
On some cradle graves, the top is designed to resemble the headboard of a bed and the bottom looks like the footboard. Plain or decorative curbing (or molding) can also be used to outline a single grave in the shape of a bed; hence these graves are also known as bed graves.

​A perfect example of this survives in the final resting place for Thomas Baltzell Tyler in Area B/Lot 113. Hailing from the prominent Tyler family of Frederick City, Thomas died at age 13 after an illness of three weeks. He was the son of Samuel Tyler (1820-1856) and Lucretia Josephine Baltzell Tyler (1823-1901) and was born on August 9th, 1843. The oldest of four children, he was a grandchild of the prominent Dr. William Tyler, a physician who served as the first president of the Farmers & Mechanics Bank, a post he would hold for 55 years from 1817 until his death in 1872. 

​Young Thomas Tyler passed less than a week before  Christmas in the year 1856. His obituary says the 19th, however his stone says December 20th. 

​Child's Cradle Grave
Although they can be found throughout the country, cradle graves were more popular in the South and Midwest regions. William Raymond Brown died of pneumonia at the age of one year and three months. He was born at the advent of the American Civil War on November 26th, 1861. The beautiful example of this grave style can be found near the drive on the east side of Area E, where Lot 126 holds several members of the deceased' immediate family.

​William’s father, Benjamin Franklin Brown, has the most auspicious monument of the group. He was an ardent Southern sympathizer during the war who was arrested on more than one occasion for his sentiments. Mr. Brown ran a successful warehouse business at the lower train depot on Carroll Street. He specialized in providing coal for his patrons, but bought and sold several other commodities. Although little is known about young William, his father’s life story is well-told through his obituary which appeared in the local papers in mid-1898.

​Adult Cradle Grave
Despite the name, cradle graves were not just for children. Adult graves were also marked in this manner. One such is just up the hill from young William Raymond Brown within Area E. In lot 34, one lone soul exists in a space capable of holding several other family members. Ann Savilla (Delauter) Anderson is the only one here as I surmise her husband and two daughters left the Frederick area a few years after Mrs. Anderson’s untimely death at age 44. 

​Ann was born on April 11th, 1813. Little is known about this parishioner of the Evangelical Church. Interestingly, however, she was married in Frederick’s German Reformed congregation on February 5th, 1845 to William S. Anderson of Pennsylvania. The couple would have two little girls, Susan Elizabeth and Anna Mary and a boy, Charles, born in 1855. It is thought that the family lived on E. Church Street near the intersection with Chapel Alley.

​Mr. Anderson was a stone cutter and monument maker who specialized in marble works. It appears he commenced his business in the late 1840s as is mentioned by Frederick diarist Jacob Engelbrecht with an entry dated July 24th, 1851:
​
“Mr. William S. Anderson, Stone Cutter of our town has eleven tomb-stones to make for the Catholic Priests of our town. They are all buried in the graveyard just at the north end of the old church.” 

​Sadly, William S. Anderson’s wife Ann, would die on March 16th, 1858 and he was saddled with the responsibility of carving her gravestone.  For one reason or another, he felt compelled to mark her gravesite with a bedstead design. He would include an inset relief carving of a woman with an anchor, symbolizing hope. At this time, his business was located in the first block of N. Market Street.

​Leaves and Grass on Cradle Grave
The empty space between the curbed sides was usually filled with “blanket plantings” – flowers, grasses, or bushes that filled up the inside of the cradle grave, giving it the full and lush appearance of a bedspread, from spring through fall. In the winter, snow would take on the appearance of a blanket drifting over the grave.

A short distance from the Key Memorial chapel towards the front of the cemetery, lies a bedstead dedicated to the memory of a well-traveled couple, neither hailing from Frederick originally—William Winder Polk and wife Almy. Mr. Polk was a native of Coventry parish, Somerset County on the eastern shore. He was the son of Wesley William Polk (1752-1814) and first wife, the widow Esther Polk Handy. The youngest of eight children, he was born on August 3rd, 1787.
​
Mrs. Polk was the former Almy U. Townsend of Oyster Bay, Long Island and born on January 1st, 1802. She was married in a double ceremony involving her sister Phoebe on November 27th, 1817. Both girls married Navy officers. 

Shortly after marriage, the couple could be found in New Haven, Connecticut. Mr. Polk was a member of the US Marines. William and Almy had seven children, but raised five into adulthood. New Haven marked the birthplace of daughter of Mary Townsend Polk, born September 8th, 1822. She married a Victor Monroe of Kentucky, a cousin of former president, James Monroe. Their son, Francis Adair Monroe (1844-1927) became a judge in the court system of Louisiana. Mary would live a majority of her later life in Milledgeville, Georgia where she passed.
​
Capt. William Winder Polk’s career in the US Navy and Marine Service, as it was called back then, does not seem to fit the fact and story-line of most sailors. It seems to be a career he began while in high school. Details are slim, but it appears he worked in various positions including Hawaii, the northern central states, and New England and the long Island Sound. Eventually, Capt. Polk would be one of four Maryland officers who actually received petty cash, while working for the revenue service. An article found in a vintage newspaper announced that he was dismissed from duty in February, 1856.

I haven't been able to figure out why this couple came to Frederick, most likely after living for years in Annapolis. I am also searching for a fuller obituary in the local Frederick newspaper archives, but don't have access to microfilm of the specific year which I need.

​Interestingly, both husband and wife are said to have died on the same day. William died on the morning of February 13th, 1856. Wife Almy was said to have died that very evening of the 13th.

The Polks would be buried on February 14th (Valentine's Day), 1856 in a lot located on Mount Olivet's Area H/Lot 26. To this day, they remain the only tenants in this lot which contains several more grave spaces.

Although we can replace the expression "Cradle to the Grave" with synonyms such as lifetime and existence, the bed analogy brought about by Victorian era is surely something to behold, especially as can be evidenced by these unique grave monuments.

For over a decade, the Mount Olivet Board of Directors entertained the idea of establishing a preservation fund. The plan was first pitched, and championed, by the late Colleen Remsberg, longtime Board member and immediate past president. Ms. Remsberg left us in May, 2018, but not before she saw the Mount Olivet Preservation and Enhancement Fund become an IRS accredited 501(c)(3) public charity. The mission reads as follows:

The mission of the Mount Olivet Cemetery Preservation and Enhancement Fund is to assist in the conservation of the natural beauty and historic integrity of Mount Olivet Cemetery and to increase public knowledge and appreciation of its unique, cultural, historic, and natural resources through charitable and educational programs.

Putting this in layman’s terms, we continue taking steps to preserve the history of this great “garden cemetery,” a community institution since the 1850s. In doing so, we are safeguarding the cemetery’s historic records, structures and grave monuments. We began nearly four years ago with the launch of this “Stories in Stone” weekly blog, combined with additional education opportunities through our websites (MountOlivetCemeteryInc.com and MountOlivetVets.com), along with public lectures and commemorative events.

​In February 2020, we officially launched our Friends of Mount Olivet group, allowing us to expand upon special activities and product development which includes cemetery walking tours, visitor assistance with genealogy and family history research, special events and anniversaries, educational partnerships with local schools, and interpretive historic wayside displays and unique commemorative plantings. Best of all, we now have volunteers and patrons to help in documenting, cleaning and helping to raise  financial support to restore, repair and preserve broken and illegible gravestones/monuments in the cemetery’s historic section.

Evidence of this latter task made the front page of our local newspaper last week, and let me tell you how gratifying it was to see positive publicity associated with Mount Olivet. It’s not hard to fathom that we’d rather see  monuments going up, as opposed to three months ago (in July) when we saw some coming down. In particular headlines were made with vandals destroying our 140-year-old Confederate sentinel monument made from Italian Carrera monument. It symbolically kept peaceful watch over 700+ known, and unknown, dead soldiers who sided with the South during the American Civil War.
​
Speaking of history, the Friends of Mount Olivet public workshop on stone restoration last week was simply fantastic! We were the very last stop for Jonathan Appell of Atlas Preservation, Inc. (Southington, Connecticut) who had been conducting a unique restoration tour involving 48 cemeteries in 48 states—performed in 48 days. Mr. Appell is one of the country’s leading experts in this field. He, boasts an impressive resume of work projects and experience that have spanned decades.

​The workshop began with an hour-and-a-half walking tour of the grounds in which Jonathan was joined by friend and colleague, Moss Rudley, longtime exhibit specialist and  Superintendent of the National Historic Preservation Training Center based here in Frederick. The seasoned duo explained styles, trends, and even pitfalls of grave ornamentation of the 18th and 19th centuries. 

I first met Jonathan and Moss two years back in October of 2018. At that time, Mount Olivet became an outdoor classroom for a two-day session on gravestone restoration—part of the 22nd annual International Preservation Trades Workshop. We brought Jonathan back to Frederick in October, 2019 to conduct a free, public workshop on our grounds. This would also generate interest in our 2020 launch of our friends group as well.

Last year, Jonathan was given the opportunity to explain to participants various projects that he has worked on around the country over his career. This included 17th century burying grounds in his native New England, jobs with the National Park Service, and a recent collaboration with Preservation Virginia involving the mysterious Knight’s tomb in Jamestown Church, historic Jamestown settlement. This gravestone is thought to be the oldest known grave of a European settler in North America. (Note: For more info on these gentlemen, I have added a link to the Frederick News-Post story at the end of my article along with a few others).

​As for our event on October 7th, 2020, the talented craftsmen chose a random grave monument of interest to conduct an introduction on cleaning gravestones. Jonathan and Moss went on to explain contributing factors to stone discoloration and staining. They followed by demonstrating to participants methods of properly cleaning these stones, using tools and materials that will bring many of these stones back to their original condition, if done correctly.

​With knowledge and know-how at hand, our instructors encouraged participants to take their hand of cleaning stones for themselves. This lively actively, fitting for a cemetery in so many ways, was followed by a lunch break.

​After lunch, Jonathan and Moss picked three stones in Area H to repair, and one more in neighboring Area L. Both sections flank the historic Key Chapel and their eastern halves contain several interments dating from the mid-1850s and 1860s—the time of the cemetery’s opening decades.

A beautiful day afforded attendees a relaxing atmosphere in which to experience this free portal in which to watch these experts at work. Moreso, they were also breathing new life into stones that had experienced toppling by way of old-age, weathering and ground shift over the years.

While engaged in the session first-hand, I suddenly thought beyond the tombstones themselves as I usually do. I asked myself, “Who were the recipients of these “mortuary makeovers?” And just remember, if this ever becomes a program on TLC, you heard the potential program title here first!

I decided to come full circle. I would purposely seek out anything I could about the people (beneath the scenes) who unknowingly volunteered their grave markers for our workshop. By the way, I thought I’d share the fact that although we regularly throw around the term “6 feet under,” our cemetery uses the industry standard of 4.5 feet underground for burial. Not counting ground erosion or build up, the cemetery aims for the lid to be at least 18 inches below the surface. And there’s a social distancing update for you.

​Anyway, four years ago, in November, 2016, I began "cyber-preservation” by publishing weekly features  that can be stored on the Mount Olivet website, while new features (like this) make their premieres on the cemetery's FaceBook page. However, none of this would be possible without a gravestone, and even more, an upright and legible gravestone. Markers, monuments, and tombstones are tributes to, and representations of, past lives. Each provides that tangible connection to the deceased. Repairing a stone is no different than penning a biography, the common thread is remembering a life once lived—a lasting footprint.

​The Kunkel Children
The monument featured on the front page news story last week was within Area H/Lot 57 and was erected by a prominent politician, lawyer and businessman named Jacob Michael Kunkel. On the morning tour, Kunkel’s fine monument was called-out by our lecturers for its grand style, but it was another unique funerary offering that was targeted for the cleaning demonstration. This was a seven-foot Greek-style column which appears broken at the top. This latter issue was not done by vandalism or a tree, but rather by design as a popular style of the mid-nineteenth century. Because of its visual impact, the broken-column has remained one of the most popular symbols in cemetery iconography. It represents “a life cut short,” and that is indeed what we have with this particular gravesite containing two children: Henry and Teresa. 

I want to start by giving context on the Kunkel name and family. To date, we have 22 folks with the name “Kunkel” interred within our gates. This unique surname is derived from the Middle High German word "kunkel," which means "spindle." It is thus supposed that the first bearers of this surname were spindle makers by occupation.

The forementioned Jacob M. Kunkel did more than make spindles as his “Story in Stone,” could weave quite a yarn. I have seen his name in the local papers and history books quite often, and knew he had a connection to the Catoctin Furnace, as an owner in partnership with Peregrine Fitzhugh in the 1850s.

Kunkel’s brother (John Baker Kunkel) would run the north county operation throughout the American Civil War, as it would stay in blast without interruption throughout the conflict as armies marched by going to and from the battlefield at Gettysburg in the summer of 1863.

​The Biographical Directory of the United States Congress 1774 – Present gives the following summary on Mr. Kunkel:
​
KUNKEL, Jacob Michael, a Representative from Maryland; born in Frederick, Frederick County, Md., July 13, 1822; attended the Frederick Academy for Boys and was graduated from the University of Virginia at Charlottesville in 1843; studied law; was admitted to the bar and commenced practice in Frederick in 1846; served in the State senate 1850-1856; elected as a Democrat to the Thirty-fifth and Thirty-sixth Congresses (March 4, 1857-March 3, 1861); resumed the practice of law in his native city; delegate to the Loyalist Convention in Philadelphia in 1866; died in Frederick, Md., April 7, 1870.

You may be interested in the fact that the Kunkel family residence during Jacob M. Kunkel’s life between 1848-1870 was 112 W. Church Street—the famed Tyler-Spite House. This grand mansion would remain in family hands until 1892.
​​
The Kunkels have two of the largest, and beautifully ornate, monuments in all of Mount Olivet. Our hosts talked at length about the craftmanship and construction of each before taking us a few short yards away to focus on the grave of two of Jacob’s children.

There are seven individuals buried within Area H’s Lot 55. They include the forementioned Jacob Michael Kunkel and wife, Anna Mary McElfresh Kunkel (1821-1879). The Kunkel’s three children are buried here, only one reaching adulthood—John Jacob Kunkel (b. 1849). This family would re-locate to New York City, the site of John’s death, in 1888. John Jacob’s wife, Mary Elizabeth McGill (Kunkel) (1852-1909) is buried beside him, as is one of the couple’s sons, John Harold Kunkel (1878-1912), who died at age 33 of Typhoid fever.

The remaining tenants are Jacob Michael Kunkel’s two other children. Henry Kunkel was born August 8th, 1851 and only lived 16 months. He died on April 30th, 1853 and was originally buried in Frederick’s All Saints’ Protestant Episcopal graveyard, once located between E. All Saints Street and Carroll Creek. The family had Henry’s body exhumed and reburied here in Mount Olivet on April 4th, 1859. This was a somber date as it marks the burial of the Kunkel’s only daughter, Teresa. Teresa was born on May 7th, 1853 but would not have the opportunity to celebrate her sixth birthday as she died April 3rd, 1859.

​Of course, a fair question to ask would be, “Why wasn’t Henry buried here to begin with?” The answer: Because Mount Olivet wasn’t open for burial business until May, 1854. Rest in peace little ones.

​Sarah G. Doyle
Thanks to Jonathan and Moss, this straightforward marble gravestone, white in color, and boasting bold carving, now sits back on its original base in Area H’s Lot 14. Ground shift caused the two base stones to shift, allowing water to rust out the two iron pins holding up the die, or main part of the headstone. Today, it once again stands boldly in memory of Sarah G. Doyle, not far from the grave of her husband, one of 109 veterans in Mount Olivet who served in the War of 1812. 

Lawrence Doyle died in January, 1845 and was laid to rest in the Lutheran Cemetery between E. Church and E. 2nd streets. The couple had 23 years together, and five children came from this union: Mary Magdalene Doyle (b. 1822-1825); Elizabeth Margaret Doyle (Feb. 5th, 1825-Feb 16th, 1825); Mary Jane (Doyle) Reed (1827-1858); and Margaret (Doyle) Crum (1838-1905). A son was also born by 1830, either named Lawrence or Henry, but I had difficulty finding more information. 

​In 1850, Sarah was living with daughter Margaret in a home owned by local lawyer Adolphus Fearhake in Court House Square, likely Court Street. I have a strong hunch that Mrs. Doyle was working for the Fearhake family in some capacity. It’s also possible she came into contact with the Kunkels, neighbors living less than half a block away during this period. In 1870, I found Sarah living with daughter Mary Jane Reed’s family in Mount Pleasant. Mary Jane had died in 1858.

​The native of Ireland passed on December 31st, 1873 and was buried in Mount Olivet on New Years Day, 1874. Lawrence would join her here after a re-interment in 1907, 33 years after Sarah’s death.

Henry F. Smith
After repairing Sarah Doyle’s grave, we only moved ten yards to our next “mortuary makeover.” It would be in Area H/Lot 25, the grave of Henry Frederick Smith (1839-1864). Talk about a life cut short, perhaps Henry should have had his grave marked by a broken column, instead he had a broken gravestone. Smith’s slim-style upright, tombstone was actually severed in two, the fracture having occurred near the base.
​
This was certainly a more difficult repair than the previous re-setting of the Doyle monument. Our professionals were tasked with re-attaching this piece, while making certain that the base was stabilized—something that was located below the ground surface.

The son of Eli and Theresa Smith, Henry Frederick Smith was born on July 8th, 1839 in Frederick. He was baptized in the town’s Lutheran Church and lived in the vicinity, likely on E. Church Street. Henry’s father was a saddler, and according to the 1860 census, Henry worked as a stone cutter. ​​His mother died in 1856, at which time the plot in Mount Olivet was purchased by his father.

With hostilities growing in 1861, the winds of war were blowing. Henry joined the Union Army in late November of that year and became a member of Company I of the 1st Maryland Infantry Regiment, Potomac Home Brigade under Captain Walter Saunders. For a glimpse of what he experienced, we can look at the regimental history:

During the winter of 1861-62 it served with Gen. Banks and in the following spring marched with that commander up the Shenandoah Valley as far as Winchester, when it was assigned to the duty of guarding the line of the Baltimore & Ohio railroad.  When Banks was driven out of the valley the regiment was concentrated at Harper's Ferry, where it remained until the Union troops again the valley, when it resumed the work of guarding the railroad.  After Gen. Pope's defeat at the second battle of Bull Run the regiment opposed the passage of the Potomac river at the several fords and ferries near the mouth of the Monocacy, and was then concentrated at Harper’s Ferry, where it was surrendered with the garrison on Sept. 15, 1862.The men were paroled and after being exchanged the regiment was assigned to duty along the Potomac in the southern part of the state.
 
The surrender in question here was associated with the Battle of Maryland Heights, which happened a day after the Battle of South Mountain, and a few days prior to Antietam. Corporal Smith would not return to regular duty as he had experienced a debility supposedly stemming from a cold caught the previous winter. His illness developed into phthisis, known today as pulmonary tuberculosis. Henry would remain at the US General Hospital located in Parole, Maryland, just outside Annapolis. And yes, this is how the current vicinity gained its name. 

​Corporal Henry F. Smith would never see active duty again as he was honorably discharged from duty in February, 1863 due to his disability. He would die of consumption (tuberculosis) one year later on February 16th, 1864. 

 A scant obituary for Henry appeared in the local paper, along with a memoriam from fellow members of Henry’s fire company.

​Eli Smith, Henry’s father, would die four years after his son in 1868. Since Mr. Smith was the last of his family, this likely explains why he has no grave marker over his final resting place.

​Eleanor “Ella” O. Keller
The final resident renovation of the day in Mount Olivet required some special tools of the trade in the form of a tripod. This tombstone had simply fallen backwards off its base due to its base sinking downward. Thankfully there was no visible damage whatsoever. The solution involved leveling the foundation under the base. An additional challenge was presented with a large, and extremely heavy, gravestone which could not simply be lifted and put back in place by one or likely two workers. Enter a tripod to lift and hold the weight of the die, readying it for placement. In addition, an adhesive compound and lead strips was necessary to help attach the die to the base below.

​The monument in this demo belonged to Miss Eleanor “Ella” O. Keller, born October 11th, 1851 in Frederick. Miss Keller was the daughter of Charles Frederick Keller and his second wife, Caroline E. Hunt. Ella spent all of her life on E. Church Street. She lived here at what was lot #63, which is the townhouse on the southeast corner of Church and Chapel Alley. She attended school at the Frederick Female Seminary (located at Winchester Hall) and graduated in June of 1868. A professional career saw Miss Keller as a teacher, and she worked at the Frederick Girls’ High School. The former school structure still stands at 115 E. Church and was the former headquarters of Frederick County Public Schools. More recently, it was the home of Artomatic, an artists’ showcase brought to Frederick by the Ausherman Family Foundation.

​Ella died at age 52, after what her obituary called a brief illness. She is buried to the right of the Key Chapel in Area L/Lot 5. Her two brothers are buried in this plot, along with her mother, Caroline, who is positioned to the immediate left of Ella. 

It was a great day of information and repairs. Thanks again to Jonathan Appell and Moss Rudley. I know they only made a physical impact on just four monuments in a cemetery containing tens of thousands.  However, these are not just any markers, they are above-ground reminders and extensions of the deceased themselves. As if that isn’t enough, now you know a little bit more about the individuals linked with the stones we repaired last week.

Banksy is an anonymous England-based street artist, political activist, and film director whose been active since the 1990s. He has left his graffiti art all over the world. A much-repeated quote , poignant for any discussion regarding the importance of tombstones, is attributed to this mysterious man:
“I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.”

In respect to restoration and preservation, we’ve got plenty more work to do at Mount Olivet Cemetery. Doing so may positively resuscitate countless victims of an unfortunate second death, one not explained by science, but by forgetting those who have already passed. 

An obelisk is a tall, four-sided, narrow tapering monument which ends in a pyramid-like shape or pyramidion at the top. Originally, they were called tekhenu by their builders, the Ancient Egyptians. Obelisks are said to have first appeared between 2650-2134 B.C. The Greeks who saw them used their own term, obeliskos, to describe them, and this word passed into Latin and ultimately English. Ancient obelisks are monolithic—that is, they are crafted out of a single stone. In contrast, most modern obelisks are made of several stones.
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Obelisks can be found across the globe, many originally dating from ancient times and civilizations. Way back then, these monuments represented the living deity, the vitality and immortality of the pharaoh, and the concept of duality and balance. No matter who or what else they commemorated, they were raised and carefully positioned so that the first and last light of day would touch their peaks to honor the sun god.
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In ancient times, obelisks were typically erected in pairs in front of selected temples as part of a celebration or Royal Jubilee. The sides of the obelisk were often inscribed, and the pyramidal top was sheathed in gold to radiate the light of the sun. 

I’ve had the opportunity to see some of these miraculous works of stone in person. I laid eyes on my first obelisk in Rome and at neighboring Vatican. Later that same trip, I would see the fine example in France’s Place de la Concorde, a transplant from Egypt. This latter monument is decorated with hieroglyphics exalting the reign of the pharaoh Ramesses II (1304-1214 B.C.). It is one of two which the Egyptian government gave to the French in the 19th century. The other one stayed in Egypt, too difficult and heavy to move to France with the technology at that time. On September 26th, 1981, President François Mitterrand gave the second obelisk back to the Egyptians.

This particular obelisk once marked the entrance to the Luxor Temple. It was a gift from the Khedive of Egypt, or royal constitutional monarch, Muhammad Ali Pasha. Pasha offered the 3,300-year-old Luxor Obelisk as a diplomatic gift to France in 1829. It arrived in Paris on December 21st, 1833. Three years later in 1836, King Louis Philippe had it placed in the center of Place de la Concorde.

The obelisk, a yellow granite column, rises 75 feet high, including the base, and weighs over 250 tons. Given the technical limitations of the day, transporting it was no easy task. On the pedestal are drawn diagrams explaining the machinery that was used for its transportation. The obelisk is flanked on both sides by fountains constructed at the time of its erection on the Place de la Concorde.
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The government of France added a gold-leafed pyramidal cap to the top of the obelisk in 1998, replacing the missing original, believed to have been stolen in the 6th century BC.

​A real, ancient obelisk exists in New York’s Central Park, representing the oldest outdoor monument in New York City. More than 3,000 years old, “the Obelisk” (also known as “Cleopatra’s Needle”) towers 69 feet high and weighs 220 tons. 

​The Central Park Obelisk is one of a pair built around 1443 B.C. in Egypt’s Heliopolis, under orders from the pharaoh Thutmose III. Both monuments were moved around 10 B.C. to front Alexandria’s Caesareum—which was named for Julius Caesar and first conceived by Cleopatra, who consolidated her rule with Caesar’s help—under the reign of Caesar’s son Augustus. The nickname “Cleopatra’s Needle” didn’t take until centuries later, reportedly coined by British traveler Paul Lucas, while Mark Twain also used the term in his 1869 travel book Innocents Abroad. 

I invite you to read further about how it was transported across the Atlantic in a refitted Egyptian mail ship and then carried across Manhattan by a special railway built for the purpose. Finally, a unique scaffolding and crane apparatus was used to finally put the obelisk in place within its new home in Central Park. This was a true engineering marvel which beckons to mind how did they accomplish the initial construction, let alone the move to Alexandria?

​​Of course, living in the DMV (District of Columbia, Maryland and Virginia), none of us have to travel far to see the most famous obelisk on United States soil, and dedicated to our first president. Of course, this was not the first monument dedicated to George Washington, as residents from nearby Boonsboro accomplished that honor in 1827, but their handiwork was far from an obelisk.

A side note about the Washington monument is that I learned that it would take quite a while to complete. The work began in 1848, but was built in two different phases. It wouldn’t be finished until 36 years later in 1884. 

​At home here in Frederick, I get the chance to see obelisks each and every day. Where you may ask? Of course, here at my place of employment, Mount Olivet Cemetery. There are several on our grounds, including our own version of “Cleopatra’s Needle.” This monument is a new one that went up last week on the gravesite of former Frederick attorney Cleopatra Campbell Anderson who passed away in March, 2018.

Born in 1935, Ms. Campbell was a former assistant state's attorney for Frederick County. She is one of the first two women to practice law in the state of Maryland, along with Mary Storm. Both women were admitted to the state bar in 1967. Campbell's first legal job was at the firm Mathias, Mathias, and Michel and her last was as an associate judge of the Maryland Orphan’s Court. To learn more, I have provided a link below to a fine story written by Cameron Dodd, which appeared at the time of her death:
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https://www.fredericknewspost.com/news/crime_and_justice/courts/cleopatra-campbell-anderson-was-a-pioneering-female-lawyer/article_0a75c799-7c84-5086-8b93-eb1e616341ae.html

Elements of Egyptian, Greek and Roman architecture became very popular forms of funerary monumentation during the Victorian era. In particular, grave decorations utilizing the obelisk motif are said to symbolize heavenly ascension or a ray of sunlight.
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The most prestigious obelisk here in Mount Olivet is a tribute to transportation pioneer Gen. James C. Clarke (1824-1902), namesake for Clarke Place, a short block from our front gate and the object of an interesting “Story in Stone” blog published back on March 6th, 2019. The most famous obelisk was erected in memory to Frederick's famous Civil War heroine Barbara Fritchie. Another belongs to local baseball icon, Harry Grove, namesake for the stadium that bears his name roughly 100 yards from his gravesite.

​Another obelisk, located on the west side of cemetery hill, the highest point in downtown Frederick, is that of a former local businessman who started his existence in the Glade Valley area north of present-day Walkersville. His name--Noah Edwin Cramer.

Instead of re-inventing the wheel here, I will simply share his biography as it appears in Volume II of T.J.C. William’s History of Frederick County, Maryland, published in 1910:

Politically, Mr. Cramer is a strong adherent of the Democratic party, and in religion is a member of the Evangelical Reformed Church of Frederick. He is a self-made man, and has attained the position he now occupies through perseverance and strict attention to business. Mr. Cramer is a member of Mountain City Lodge No. 29, Knights of Pythia, of Frederick.
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I found thousands of mentions of Mr. Cramer in online newspaper archives, a direct byproduct of being a successful real estate and fire insurance agent. I'm assuming his profession also aided in helping him acquire Rose Hill Manor in 1906, but it seems that the country estate was a showplace for him, hosting special events and parties. The family lived at 117 Record Street, next to the Record Street Home and Court House Square.

In 1922, Noah Cramer was among the organizers of Frederick's first Board of Realtors and would serve on the inaugural executive board. His son James would eventually join him as a business partner as well.

​Mr. Cramer worked through his sixties, but punctuated his life with fine vacations around the globe. At a time when travel abroad was still reserved for a privileged few, Cramer made trips to places such as Bermuda, Florida, Seattle, the Philippines, and Western Europe. I learned more about the European trip taken by Mr. Cramer in 1927.  Cramer, noted also for his elocution skills, was asked to share details of his recent trip with the local Kiwanis Club. 

​I don’t know when the obelisk went up on the site, but I’m guessing sometime shortly after Mr. Cramer's death. Like that of the other obelisks to be found here in Mount Olivet, the Cramer monument is among the first, and last, to catch the light of day, hopefully still as pleasing to the sun god(s) today, as was the case thousands of years ago in ancient times.

"What's in a name?" an age-old question usually credited to William Shakespeare for introducing the proverb to us through Romeo and Juliet. A person's name is said to be the greatest connection to their own identity and individuality. Interestingly, one can walk for hours through a cemetery like Mount Olivet and read hundreds of different names on gravestones and monuments. Some may be familiar and recognizable, perhaps friends, acquaintances, or relatives. However, I would definitively bet that the vast majority of tombstones gazed upon would represent names and people completely foreign to you and, hence, desirous of intrigue and curiosity. Well that's the sole reason I have been doing this blog for almost four years now!

Even I have little to no idea of who these people are, what they did, how they died or what they were like. And that's why the hours of research I pour into these stories is so fulfilling, I actually come away not only learning about an individual (usually forgotten over time), but in bringing their memory back to life, I usually learn local, state, national and world history some how. These lives are reflections of the time periods in which they lived, allowing me to see the world through their lens, not manipulated by how we look back today and see/judge things. 

The above mentioned statement I made about names (A person's name is said to be the greatest connection to their own identity and individuality)really rang true to me last week as I encountered two gentlemen I knew relatively nothing about. However one had a name in which I associated a greater quality of life experience, while the other I thought would be hum-drum and ordinary. In fact, both men's last names also double as adjectives—talk about descriptive irony. The first man was Francis Scott Key, Jr. "Key" when used as an adjective is defined: "of paramount or crucial importance" (ie: The quarterback made a key throw in the final touchdown drive to win the game.") The other gentleman in question is Simon Fraser Blunt. "Blunt" as an adjective is defined as "having a worn-down edge or point; not sharp" (ie: The blunt knife was virtually useless as it couldn't cut anything.") Blunt also has another meaning when it pertains to a person or remark, and means "uncompromisingly forthright."
(She was very blunt with her date, saying that there was no need for him to bother asking her out again."

Last week’s story focused on a son of Francis Scott Key, one who had the same name as his father, but certainly the opposite fortune of leaving a lasting legacy. To my surprise, Francis Scott Key, Jr. didn’t do anything of particular note outside being a loving husband and father. Newspapers had scarce mentions of him during his lifetime, and he is non-existent in any history book. FSK, Jr.’s proud estate, named “the Elms” in Howard County, is long gone, without a trace. His children really didn't stand out in their own way either. Key, Jr. died in mid-1866 and was first entombed in a graveyard in Baltimore, but would be re-interred a few short months later in Frederick’s Mount Olivet along with his parents and another gentleman (who I am very excited to introduce you too). All four individuals had previously rested within the Howard family vault in Old St. Paul’s Cemetery.
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Francis Scott Key, Sr. and wife Mary Tayloe Lloyd Key were moved yet again, in 1898, to their present location (within a vault under a fine memorial more befitting the author of “The Star-Spangled Banner,”) by our cemetery's front gate. With this move, the memory and acknowledgement of Francis, Jr. sank further into obscurity as few visitors would travel to the vicinity of his grave and notice his slab of marble.

I enjoyed the research challenge nonetheless, and fed my curiosity to learn more about this gentleman and, in the process, more about the immediate family of the guy who wrote our national anthem.  

I mentioned a fourth individual of the “Key entourage” to be reburied from Baltimore to Mount Olivet back in the year 1866. This was Simon Fraser Blunt, and the exact date of his burial in Mount Olivet’s Area H/lot 439 occurred without fanfare on October 1st, 1866. Mr. Blunt was Francis Scott Key’s son-in-law, having married daughter Ellen Lloyd Key in 1846. Blunt is only about five yards away from brother-in-law FSK, Jr., but a comparison of life stories is “night and day,” as they say. I was astounded with what I found out about Simon Fraser Blunt, and am prepared to show you that although short, he had an adventurous 35 years here on Earth. To be perfectly "blunt," our subject's life was uncompromisingly forthright, and the furthest thing from dull. 
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Simon Fraser Blunt enjoyed a distinguished career in the US Navy, one that would encompass the majority of his life. He was a member of the Wilkes Expedition which explored and surveyed the Pacific Ocean, a cartographer of San Francisco Bay and served as captain of the SS Winfield Scott when it shipwrecked off Anacapa Island in 1853. Two geographic features, Blunt Cove and Point Blunt are thought to be named for him. Yet, there are few, if any, individuals today who have actually ever heard the name of 1st Lt. Simon F. Blunt. In particular, two chapters of his life are particularly amazing and worth telling as these would bookend his Naval career front and back.

​Blunt Force
Simon Fraser Blunt was born August 1st, 1818 in Southampton County, Virginia. His father, Dr. Samuel Blunt, owned a fine plantation named Belmont, located a few miles northeast of the small crossroads town of present-day Capron. According to the 1831 slave census, Dr. Blunt’s father owned nearly 36 slaves. This fact would play out during “the dawn’s early light” on the morning of August 23rd, 1831. Belmont would take part in the bloodiest and best-known slave revolt in American history. 

​Nat Turner (1800-1831), an enslaved black preacher was living at the home of Southampton County craftsman Joseph Travis in the summer of 1831. He had been recently acquired by Mr. Travis, having been bought and sold by a few different slave-owners throughout his life.
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Having believed he was divinely selected to lead his people out of bondage, Turner took this as a sign in the form of an eclipse of the Sun caused Turner to believe that the hour to strike was near. His plan was to capture the armory at the county seat of Jerusalem, and, having gathered many recruits, to press on to the Dismal Swamp, 30 miles to the east, where capture would be difficult. 

On the night of August 21st, together with seven fellow slaves in whom he had put his trust, he launched a campaign of total annihilation, murdering Travis and his family in their sleep and then setting forth on his bloody march toward Jerusalem. In two days and nights about 60 white people were ruthlessly slain. Doomed from the start, Turner’s insurrection was handicapped by lack of discipline among his followers and by the fact that only 80 Blacks rallied to his cause.

Just before dawn on August 23rd, Turner and about 20 of his followers had covered a distance of about 15 miles and arrived at Belmont, home of our subject, Simon Fraser Blunt, then having just turned 13 years of age a few weeks prior. Forewarned of the dangers ahead, Dr. Samuel Blunt insisted that his slaves remain and defend the plantation and his family, or join the insurgents. All stayed and successfully defended the home and its occupants.
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Tradition states that young Simon Blunt fired the first shot at the insurgents, either from the front porch or an upper window as there are two account variations. Belmont would serve as Nat Turner’s “Waterloo” of sorts, and the site of the next-to-last skirmish of the rebellion.  Many of his followers had perished upon reaching the Blunt plantation and the remainder were captured and executed upon arrival. Turner, himself, escaped and would be the focus of a multi-month manhunt, before being captured on October 30th, 1831. He was convicted and hanged twelve days later on November 11th, 1831. 

As an aside, I will share that the Nat Turner rebellion prompted the Virginia General Assembly to spend much of its December 1831 session debating the possible abolition of slavery, something state governor John Floyd had hoped to accomplish. Contrary to Floyd’s wishes, the legislature enacted more stringent slave laws and attempted to suppress abolitionist writings. Turner’s short, but violent revolt, so alarmed the South that a much stricter regimen was soon instituted against slaves and free blacks alike, leading to further hardening of attitudes between the North and South.
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As Nat Turner had made a name for himself, but lost his life for it, our subject Simon F. Blunt would gain newfound fame and be set on his career path because of Turner’s ill-fated insurrection plot. The plucky teen would be rewarded for his heroism and bravery in battle and summoned to the White House to meet President Andrew Jackson. The president bestowed on the lad immediate commission in the US Navy. His enlistment date states September 7th, 1831.

In 1838, Blunt was assigned to the USS Porpoise, under the command of (Washington County native) Captain Cadwalader Ringgold (1811-1867) and passed midshipman on June 23rd before the ship joined the Wilkes Expedition in early August.

A passed midshipman, sometimes called as "midshipman, passed", is a term used historically in the 19th century to describe a midshipman who had passed the lieutenant's exam and was eligible for promotion to lieutenant as soon as there was a vacancy in that grade.
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The Wilkes Expedition is also known as the United States Exploring Expedition of 1838–1842 and served as an exploring and surveying expedition of the Pacific Ocean and surrounding lands. Funding for the original expedition was requested by President John Quincy Adams in 1828, however, Congress would not implement funding until eight years later. In May 1836, the oceanic exploration voyage was finally authorized by Congress and created by President Andrew Jackson.

The expedition is referred to as the "Wilkes Expedition" in honor of its commanding officer, United States Navy Lieutenant Charles Wilkes. The expedition was of major importance to the growth of science in the United States, in particular the then-young field of oceanography. Lt. Wilkes had a reputation for hydrography, geodesy, and magnetism.

Personnel included naturalists, botanists, a mineralogist, a taxidermist, and a philologist. They were carried aboard the sloops-of-war USS Vincennes (780 tons), and USS Peacock (650 tons), the brig USS Porpoise (230 tons), the full-rigged ship Relief, which served as a store-ship, and two schooners, Sea Gull (110 tons) and USS Flying Fish (96 tons), which served as tenders.
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During the event, armed conflict between Pacific islanders and the expedition was common and dozens of natives were killed in action, as well as a few of the American explorers. In March, 1839, at Orange Bay, Simon Blunt transferred to the USS Vincennes. On January 16th, 1840, the expedition sailed close enough to Antarctica to see the actual continent and it has been said that Blunt Cove is named for him. 

Going from one temperature extreme to another, the expedition would next visit the Sandwich Islands in the South Pacific. Formerly this group of tropical islands was known to Europeans and Americans as the Sandwich Islands, a name that Captain James Cook chose in honor of the then First Lord of the Admiralty John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich.

The contemporary name, dating from the 1840s, is derived from the name of the largest island, Hawaiʻi Island. The islands were first known to Europeans after the expedition of Álvaro de Saavedra Cerón in 1527. Interestingly, they would become known to all US residents, and the world to a greater degree, exactly 101 years after the Wilkes Expedition made their explorations. The famous naval station at Pearl Harbor would be established here in 1899, after the overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom and subsequent annexation of the territory in 1893.  

Our friend, Mr. Blunt, however, would not have the nicest time in paradise. He apparently took sick in April, 1841 in Honolulu, possibly from participating in the trip to the summit of Mauna Loa Volcano. He eventually rallied and made it back home to the US east coast. A few weeks after the expedition had arrived back in New York City, Simon Blunt was promoted to the rank of lieutenant on July 28th, 1842, ​
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In 1844, Blunt was assigned to the USS Truxtun which departed Philadelphia in June of that year and would participate in patrolling activities off the coast of Liberia (Africa). In particular, the ship took up station off Tenerife in the Canary Islands to begin duty suppressing the slave trade. This tour lasted 16 months and when Simon returned, the young man attended the newly formed United States Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland.

Lt. Blunt's time spent back in Annapolis, put him on a collision course with his future wife, Miss Ellen Lloyd Key, daughter of Francis Scott Key. The ninth child of the famous lawyer and songwriter was born in Georgetown in 1821 and was said to have been “especially attractive, a fine writer and even better public speaker.” On January 27th, 1846, Simon married Miss Key in Washington DC.

​Ellen’s famous father was not in attendance as he had died three years previously. Also absent was Ellen’s older brother, Daniel Key, a former midshipman of Annapolis who was killed in a duel in Bladensburg (MD) in June, 1836 by a fellow Navy midshipman named John Sherburne. It’s highly likely that Blunt and Sherburne knew one another, and quite possible that Simon had met Daniel Key in his younger days as a midshipman of similar age.
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One more unique connection could have helped “match-make” this particular marriage. Blunt’s former commander and colleague, Cadwalader Ringgold, was the half-brother of Virginia Ringgold Key. The former Miss Ringgold had married Ellen’s older brother, John Ross Key (1809-1837) in 1834.

Mr. and Mrs. Blunt went on to have three children: Alice Key Blunt (1847–1927); John Yell Mason Blunt (1849–1910); and Mary Lloyd Key Blunt (1850–?). 
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In 1849, Simon F. Blunt was appointed to a Joint Commission of Army and Navy Officers whose purpose was to identify potential sites for lighthouses and defense facilities along the Pacific Coast of the California and Oregon territories. The Joint Commission consisted of three army engineers: Maj. John L. Smith, Maj Cornelius Austin Ogden and 1st Lt. Danville Leadbetter; and three naval officers: Commodore Louis M. Goldsborough, Commodore G.J. Van Brunt, and Blunt, himself. It had assembled in San Francisco by early April 1849. 

Blunt, either on his own or with the rest of the members of the Joint Commission, presumably joined his former Captain on the USS Porpoise. This was "Commodore" Cadwalader Ringgold who led an expedition on the chartered brig Col. Fremont in an effort to chart the San Francisco Bay region, suddenly important because of the recent discovery of gold in the area—the Gold Rush of '49.

Ringgold is reputed to have named Point Blunt on Angel Island in the San Francisco Bay for our friend Simon.

​​ Afterwards, Lt. Blunt assisted Commodore Ringgold in the creation of two charts for the Bay area:

Chart of the Farallones and entrance to the Bay of San Francisco, California (1850)
Chart of the Bay of San Pablo, Straits of Carquinez, and part of the Bay of San Francisco (1850)

​Blunt also drew a lithograph, View of Benicia from the anchorage east of Seal Island for Ringgold's Chart of Suisun & Vallejo Bays with the confluence of the rivers Sacramento and San Joaquin, California.  A colored version of the lithograph was published in 1852.

A summary of the further activities of this group state the following:
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The Joint Commission may have been joined by members of the land branch of the Pacific division of the United States Coast Survey. The USS Massachusetts was transferred to the Navy in San Francisco on August 1st, 1849, and detailed for the use of the Joint Commission to take up and down the coast, however they could not recruit a crew. They borrowed some crewmen from another ship and Blunt may have made his second trip to Hawaii, where the Massachusetts wintered and hired native crewmen. Upon its return, the Joint Commission made preliminary recommendations to President Millard Fillmore to reserve various islands and coastal regions in and around San Francisco Bay. Then they and the Massachusetts sailed up to Puget Sound. After a cursory examination of the mouth of the Columbia River, the ship and the Joint Commission returned to California in July 1850. After a trip to San Diego, the Joint Commission made its final recommendation on November 30th, 1850.

If Blunt went with the Joint Commission to Hawaii, immediately upon his return he separated from it and the Massachusetts. On March 10th, 1850 Blunt was in command of the Schooner Arabian with another military survey party en-route to Trinidad Bay. Upon reaching the bay, a boat with a landing party from the schooner swamped, resulting in the drowning of five men. Five more men survived. Blunt appears to have continued to the Columbia River and explored the Willamette Valley, and by August 1st, 1850, to have attached to the Survey Schooner Ewing of the Pacific Coast Survey. 

In a letter of that time period from William Pope McArthur (the first leader of the hydrographic branch of the Pacific Coast Survey) to his father-in-law, Commander John J. Young, McArthur wrote of his group’s foray into what had been recognized officially as the Oregon Territory in 1848:
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 "Lt. Blunt who is now with me has traveled considerably through the country (the Willamette Valley) and is so much pleased with it, that he has taken a section of land and made a regular claim to it, he has also taken one for myself and one for Lt. Bartlett, both adjoining his!"  

The forementioned Lt. McArthur was commander of USS Ewing, and Washington Allon Bartlett was one of its officers.

By August 31st, 1850, the USS Ewing had already worked its way south to San Diego. At the end of December 1850, the USS Ewing was severely damaged in a storm while attempting to take the new land branch of the Pacific Coast Survey to Monterey Bay. Upon her repair, she traveled up the coast to the Columbia River.

​If Blunt was with still with the USS Ewing,  he was back by early to mid-summer of 1851, when he was a signer of the constitution of the San Francisco Committee of Vigilance. This was a vigilante group formed in response to rampant crime and municipal government corruption in a town that had grown from 900 residents to over 20,000 in a short period thanks to the famed Gold Rush.

While here, Blunt spent time with friend John Charles and wife, Jessie Benton Frémont, at their home in the same city. Frémont (1813-1890) was an American explorer, military officer, and politician. He had recently been elected a US Senator from California, and later in 1856 would become the first Republican nominee for President of the United States. Simon likely discussed with the couple an idea that he was developing that would help lower lifeboats into the water from ships. This would be foreshadowing at its very best.
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Meanwhile, I wondered what was occurring with Lt. Blunt's young family back east? At the very least in the year 1850, I found Ellen Key Blunt and Simon’s children living in Baltimore in the large household of Haslett McKim, a wealthy businessman, banker and broker. The residence was located at 27 West Franklin Street, not far from the Baltimore Cathedral.

I'm assuming that based on the life of a sailing man, more time for the couple was spent apart than together. Perhaps Ellen traveled out to see him on the west coast? Or maybe a furlough home at some point was enjoyed for the young US Navy veteran with a decade's service logged up to this point. Simon would be back home soon, but not for long.

On January 15th, 1852, Secretary of the Navy, Will A. Graham ordered a Naval Commission to select a site for a west coast naval yard. Simon F. Blunt, along with Commodore John Drake Sloat, Commodore Cadwalader Ringgold, and William P.S. Sanger (former overseer of construction of Drydock Number One, Norfolk Naval Shipyard) were appointed to the commission.

​On July 13, 1852, Sloat recommended the island across the Napa River from the settlement of Vallejo, as it was "free from ocean gales and from floods and freshets." The Navy Department acted favorably on Commodore Sloat's recommendations and Mare Island was purchased for use as a naval shipyard in July 1853 at a cost of $83,410. On September 16, 1854, Mare Island became the first permanent US naval installation on the west coast, with Commodore David Farragut, as Mare Island's first commander.

Lt. Blunt was reunited with his family for the Christmas holidays of 1852. The following year of 1853 would prove another busy year for Simon Fraser Blunt. It began with him being named to the new, national Light House Board, in which he would oversee the New York district. 

It appears that Blunt had a home in Washington, DC, but had made a permanent move to New York, and I assume that his family was in the plan as well, but I'm not positive about this. I do know that he was soon to work inspecting and building  lighthouses with particular focus on the Long Island Sound and vicinity.

​Not so “Golden” Moment
​Somehow, Simon F. Blunt switched gears and left lighthouse inspection to become a steamship captain. I don't know if it was just a factor of his tenure expiring after the initial review of lighthouses or not, but he was now going to shuttle back and forth to the west coast. By mid-1853, Lt. Blunt had been hired as the captain of the SS Winfield Scott, which carried passengers, mail and cargo between San Francisco and Panama.
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The discovery of gold in California brought thousands of fortune seekers from the east and around the world. To meet this new demand for travel and resources, shipping and maritime activity increased dramatically. Sailing ships and steamers carried people, food, and supplies up and down the coast and from the eastern United States. A typical voyage from New York to San Francisco brought passengers first to Panama and, once there, it often took over a month for another ship to arrive and take them up the Pacific seaboard.

In 1847 two steamship companies connecting New York with San Francisco and the Oregon Territory and charged primarily with the important task of delivering mail were subsidized by the federal government. The Steamship Company and the Pacific Mail Steamship Company acquired many steamships to travel the Panama route.

​Independent steamship companies competed with the mail steamships by promising shorter voyages. To reach their destinations more quickly, ships often risked navigating the narrow Santa Barbara Channel rather than traveling around the Channel Islands.

The Winfield Scott was owned by the Pacific Mail Steamship Company. Loaded with over 300 passengers and crew, bags of mail, and between $1-$2 million in gold, the steamship departed San Francisco for Panama on December 1st, 1853.
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The next evening Captain Blunt chose to pass through the Santa Barbara Channel to save time. The fog was dense, but he knew his course. Believing he had passed the islands, Blunt turned southeast, an unfortunate and tragic miscalculation. At 11:00 pm, the Winfield Scott crashed into a large rock off Middle Anacapa Island at full speed, striking two holes in the bow. The stern then struck, knocking away the rudder, and the ship began to sink.

Captain Blunt sent a boat to find a place onshore for the passengers and ordered everyone on board to abandon ship. The large group was brought to the beaches of Anacapa where they camped for nearly a week. Another ship, the California, saw the smoke from the passengers’ fires and rescued the women. It returned on December 9th and removed the rest of the passengers. The company of the Winfield Scott was left on the island to attempt to recover mail, baggage, furniture, and some of the machinery from the wreck, but there was little hope of saving the ship or of getting it off of the ledge.
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An eyewitness account by one of the passengers, an Ohio native named Asa Cyrus Call (1826-1888),can be found online thanks to descendants John and Virginia Call who transcribed/published Cyrus’ diaries (kept between 1850-1853) back in 1998:

The Winfield Scott
Dec. 5th, 1853.
A rock in the Pacific, 20 miles from the coast - Monday,
Dec. 5th, 1853.
 
I embarked on the Steamer Winfield Scott last Thursday, and at 12 o’clock we left Vally’s St. Wharf for Panama. We had fine weather till Friday evening, when it became foggy. One of the boilers had been leaking through the day which had retarded our progress, and the Sierra Navada had passed us, but it was repaired on Friday afternoon, and we were running about twelve miles an hour, when I went to bed on Friday night. This was about 9 o’clock. I had just got to sleep, when I was awakened by a tremendous shock. I knew we had struck a rock and hurrying on a part of my clothes I hurried up on deck where I found a general panic, but the steamer was backed off and with the assurance that all was right the most of the passengers retired again to their rooms. But I didn’t believe she could have struck a rock with such force without sustaining some injury, and not knowing what the upshot of the matter might be, I went down to my state room and put my money and all other valuables in my trunk into my saddle bags, and went into the upper saloon intending to be ready for what was to come next.
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I had hardly taken a seat when the steamer struck again, and with such force, that it seemed as if the ship was breaking into a thousand fragments. I again hurried on deck, and went forward to see if I could see land. It was so dark I could see nothing, but I could distinctly hear the roar of the breakers ahead, and on the larboard side. The steamer was unmanageable, and the order was given to let off the steam and to extinguish the fires to prevent the ship's taking fire. The decks were densely crowded but considering the circumstances the people behaved remarkably well. It was a perfect jam. And all I could distinguish was an occasional small shriek as the ship lurched to one side giving evidence that she was sinking. 

​December 9th 7 p.m.
The old steamer California came to our rock sometime in the night last night, and made her presence known by firing cannon. We climbed to the top of the rock and made a large fire of weeds, which is the only fuel we have on the rock. The sea was very rough which made it dangerous getting onboard, but we finally accomplished it without any very serious accident. It is now supposed that there were one or two men lost when we were wrecked, as they have never been seen since. One was a Mr. Underwood, a butcher by trade.

​After seeing to the rescue of the passengers and salvage of the mail and cargo, Captain Blunt continued “to Atlantic States on a visit to his family and for the purpose of representing in person, the loss of the steamer of which he formerly had commanded." Blunt would be cleared of any wrongdoing. An article from the time gives the sentiment of the passengers in regards to the accident.

​As an aside, between 1850 and 1900, at least 33 ships were wrecked in the same Channel. The Winfield Scott still lies beneath the clear waters of Channel Islands National Park. Divers regularly visit it still to this day.

Simon Fraser Blunt and the passengers of the USS Winfield Scott made it back to New York City on January 29th, 1854 as evidenced by two news mentions in the New York Herald.

​Sadly, this would be Simon Fraser Blunt’s last big adventure. I don’t know how he spent his last four months after returning home to the east coast from California, but he would die in Baltimore on April 27th, 1854 at the age of 35. His funeral was covered by the Baltimore Sun as his mortal remains were placed alongside his famous father-in-law within the Howard family vault in Old St Paul’s Cemetery in Baltimore. 

To support herself, and her children, Ellen Blunt worked as a copyist for the US Patent Office , where, by 1855, Patent Commissioner Charles Mason was employing four women clerks, including Clara Barton, who later founded the American Red Cross. In mid-1855, however, when Mr. Mason resigned, the women were forced to work at home because Secretary of the Interior Robert McClelland, who had assumed supervision of the Patents Office, objected to "the obvious impropriety in the mixing of the two sexes within the walls of a public office." Their pay was reduced to the piecework rate of ten cents per hundred words, and during some of the following months, they were given little or no work at all.

Interestingly, Ellen was the subject of a March 7th, 1856 letter by Jessie Benton Frémont (wife of the fore-mentioned California Senator and presidential candidate) to Washington DC socialite and “Navy commander wife” Elizabeth Blair Lee. In this correspondence, Mrs. Fremont laments Ellen Key Blunt's financial situation, one that took a nose-dive following the sudden loss of her husband (Simon). Frémont attempted to intervene on Blunt's behalf by writing to George W. Blunt, a prominent publisher of nautical charts and maps (with no known relationship to Simon Blunt), imploring him to buy a patent for a device developed by Simon Blunt to lower lifeboats into the water. By the end of 1859, Frémont was somehow exasperated with George Blunt and “gave up the ship” so to speak.

Mrs. Blunt made ends meet by writing and lecturing around the east. She received help from her siblings, as her sister Mary Key Pendleton helped her reputation in her home of Cincinnati, Ohio.

​Ellen would relocate to Paris in 1861. While there she gave dramatic readings or her works. She most likely moved due to the American Civil War and the instability of both Baltimore and Washington, DC at that time.  The family was Southern leaning and some of her poems and essays reflect this sentiment wholeheartedly. Her reputation was preceded by her father's patriotic tune, and her brother's brutal murder.

While in Paris, she must have okayed the move of Blunt’s body in October, 1866 to Frederick, Maryland. He would be buried in the new Key family plot in Area H/Lot 439. This was made possible by Fredericktonian George Murdoch Potts who it is said persuaded two of Francis Scott Key’s daughters to move the patriot’s body back to his native Frederick for re-interment in the town’s new cemetery, opened just 12 years earlier.

​Key, his wife Mary, son Francis Scott Key, Jr. and Simon F. Blunt were buried here on October 6th, 1866 after being brought from Baltimore aboard train. ​

Blunt's Lasting Legacy
The schooner the S F Blunt was built in 1854-1855 at Puget Sound by William Ireland. It would make many journeys off the coast of northern California, especially between San Francisco and Sacramento. You may think of California's capital city as being far inland from the coast. This is true, but the real city of Sacramento was developed around a wharf, called the Embarcadero, on the confluence of the American River and Sacramento River which had been developed in 1849 as a result of gold discoveries at Sutter's Mill in the area of Coloma. The port was used increasingly as a point of debarkation for prospecting Argonauts heading eastwards, and supplies were readily needed.

Unfortunately the S F Blunt would suffer a series of mishaps. It became waterlogged at Albion, California in November, 1862. Another accident occurred in 1865 in Tomales Bay. The two-masted sailing schooner was repaired and would sail another day until it was waterlogged again off the Mendocino Coast in May, 1868. This was the proverbial "strike three!," as the schooner was refloated and wrecked off Point Arena in 1868.

John was 12 when he and his two sisters moved to Europe. While still a teenager, John enlisted in the French Army and became a member of the Red Cross Corps. He later transferred to the Papal Zouaves, a unit formed by the Papal States to fight their incorporation into the new Kingdom of Italy. John was among the last troops to surrender when the Italians took Rome in 1870.
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John returned to France with a French unit of the Papal Zouaves, and fought in the Franco-Prussian War. Subsequently, he lived with his mother in Paris during the Commune of 1871. He next went to Spain and fought as a cavalry captain in the Carlist War of 1872 and 1873 on the side of Juan Carlos, the Pretender to the Spanish throne. After the war, he remained in the service of Juan Carlos in Paris and Marseilles until 1880. At this time John's mother moved to Great Britain for health reasons. Accompanying her, he joined the British Army and served in the First Royal Dragoons, a cavalry unit that did police work. 

​Meanwhile Ellen continued her writing and elocution opportunities throughout Europe. ​Ellen Key Blunt died on March 30th, 1884 in the coastal resort town of Tendy, Wales. I assume she was buried here instead of being brought back to the United States and laid by her husband’s side in Mount Olivet. I couldn’t find her exact burial location.

​Following his mother's death, John Y. M. Blunt resigned from his British employment and returned to the United States. He joined the US Army and served in the cavalry. He rose again to the rank of captain, serving in Maryland, Kansas, Cuba, and the Philippines. He retired in Manila after seventeen years of service in 1902. John remained in Manila and worked as a translator in the Philippine Constabulary until his final illness and death in 1910.

John’s son, Wilfrid Blunt was a veteran of World War I and World II, having graduated from the US Military academy at West Point in 1911. During World War II, he was the commander of Camp Carson in Colorado Springs, CO. He would retire in 1948.
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Simon Blunt had two daughters, Alice Key Blunt and Mary Lloyd Blunt. Neither daughter married, but led very different lives. The former traveled extensively and lived with relatives, and in various hotels in Baltimore throughout her adult life. She spent summers in Canada, which afforded opportunities to visit her sister.

Ms. Blunt was quite active in patriotic affairs and regularly sat on planning and social committees in her home of Baltimore. In fact, she was co-founder of the Baltimore Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution in March 1892. This group is also known (fittingly) as the Francis Scott Key Chapter. Ms. Blunt would serve as Maryland's second state regent in 1894, and was followed in succession by Betty Maulsby Ritchie, founder of the Frederick Chapter, DAR and buried only 30 yards to the south of Mrs. Blunt's  gravesite.

Alice Key Blunt was the subject of a Frederick News article in early summer of 1924 in which she visited her grandfather's hometown and made a visit to Mount Olivet to see the graves of her father, uncle and grandparents. 

​I couldn’t find Mary Blunt’s grave, but from John Y. M. Blunt’s obit,  I learned that she was a nun and teacher in Montreal. I found Sister Mary Blunt in the 1921 Canadian Census living at Sacred Heart Roman Catholic School and Convent.

​The Sacred Heart School of Montreal was founded in 1861, and built around the principles that were at the core of the Society of the Sacred Heart, which was begun by Saint Madeleine Sophie Barat in 1800. Among those principles was to educate girls to take part in society beyond the home or the church. I’m assuming that Mary’s time abroad in Europe likely influenced her to become a sister.

​One more individual of note is buried in this Key plot in Area H. In between the graves of Simon Blunt and his brother-in-law, Francis Scott Key, Jr., lies the grave of a nephew to both gentlemen—John Ross Key III (1837-1920). I wrote a story about this talented fellow back in July, 2019 entitled “Star-Spangled Artist.” John Ross Key III was a world class painter and grandson of Francis Scott Key. He was born in Hagerstown on July 16th, 1837, two months after the death of his father, John Ross Key II (1809-1837). Young Key’s mother, Virginia Ringgold Key (1815-1903), was the sister of Commodore Cadwalader Ringgold, a continual figure in the life and career of Simon Fraser Blunt. 

When referring to somebody by the moniker, “junior,” we are typically referring to the younger of two men bearing the same full name—most commonly, a son named after his father. It is often written as Jr. or jr. following the name.

Famous “juniors” in US history include Martin Luther King, Jr., John F. Kennedy, Jr., Teddy Roosevelt, Jr., Robert Downey, Jr., Sammy Davis, Jr., Lon Chaney, Jr., Dale Earnhart, Jr., Ken Griffey, Jr., Odell Beckham, Jr., Cuba Gooding, Jr. and the list goes on to even include a brand of candy featuring small rounds of mint filling, covered in a dark chocolate coating. 

Here at home, the founder of Frederick, Daniel Dulany (1685-1753), was aided greatly by a same-named son. This lad grew up to be one of the greatest legal minds of his time, but he actually didn’t carry the “Jr.” suffix, but instead opted to be called Daniel Dulany, the Younger (1722-1797).
​
Not many know this, but the most famous, and well-known, occupant of Frederick’s Mount Olivet Cemetery had a son, who was a “junior.” I'm, of course, talking about Francis Scott Key.  In fact, I would venture to say that the reason we have Francis Scott Key in our cemetery, is likely due more to Francis Scott Key, Jr. than to anything else.

On Monday, October the 1st, 1866, the body of Francis Scott Key, Jr. was carried through Mount Olivet’s main gate by use of a horse and wagon. It would be laid to rest in the cemetery’s Area H/Lot 439. 

​The funeral cortege doesn’t seem to have been well-attended, or possibly even known about by the locals for that matter. This gentleman’s mortal remains had been removed, likely that same morning, from a vault in Old St. Paul’s Church burying ground in downtown Baltimore, not far from Camden Yards at 733 Redwood Street-- just off Martin Luther King, Jr. Boulevard. 

​Key’s coffin was taken and placed aboard a Baltimore & Ohio Railroad train at that place and traveled to Frederick for reburial. Frederick’s freight depot was the destination, a grand building once located on South Carroll Street, near East All Saints Street where a parking deck now stands today. Its claim to fame was that it was said to be "the oldest depot in the world" up to its demise in the early 20th century.

Key’s body did not travel alone, so to speak. Joining FSK, Jr. for this voyage west from “Charm City” were his parents, Francis Scott Key and Mary Tayloe (Lloyd) Key, and another gentleman named Simon Frazier Blunt. Mr. Blunt had died in 1854, and had been married to FSK, Jr.’s sister Ellen Lloyd Key.

​The renowned Francis Scott Key had died earlier yet, on January 11th, 1843, while visiting his daughter Elizabeth Phoebe (Key) Howard, then living in Baltimore at Mount Vernon Place. Elizabeth was Mr. Key's oldest child, and she had married Charles Howard (1802-1869)in 1825. Mr. Howard was the son of Maryland's fifth governor John Eager Howard (1752-1827) who was also a Revolutionary War commander, US Senator, and organizer of Baltimore's defenses for the War of 1812.  Howard County takes its name from  this accomplished gentleman.

​Today, a plaque on Mount Vernon Place United Methodist Church marks the former site of the Charles Howard home. A decision was made at the time of our famous songwriter's death to place his body in the Howard family’s funerary vault, located a few short blocks away in St. Paul’s graveyard. This was an interesting choice, because Key’s home at the time (of death) was Washington, DC, specifically not far from the US Capitol building. And better yet, why wasn’t Francis Scott Key buried in his old hometown of Frederick?

​As far as Frederick, the prime option for burial would have been the old All Saints’ Burying Ground, located basically 100 yards west of the B&O Railroad’s freight depot. At the time (1843) the graveyard had his parents as occupants, but had lost some of its luster over a century of use. The All Saints’ congregation had vacated their original church structure at this location nearly three decades earlier, wanting to be in a more prominent area of town near Court House Square. Meanwhile, there was no fancy-schmancy "garden cemetery" in the form of Mount Olivet, as this wouldn’t come into being until 1852—nine years after FSK's death.

Mrs. Key died on May 18th, 1859. Known more commonly by her nickname of "Polly," she would be laid to rest in Baltimore instead of Washington, DC or, more surprisingly, her native Annapolis. Mary was placed in the Howard family crypt with her husband in St. Paul's.
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According to historian Edward S. Delaplaine, Francis Scott Key had strongly considered Frederick for his place of burial. The illness that preceded his death came very quickly in the form of pleurisy turned pneumonia. Delaplaine’s 1937 biography entitled Francis Scott Key: Life and Times states the following:
“Many years later it was recalled that Key had expressed a wish to be buried “ ‘neath the shadows of the everlasting hills” in Frederick County.”

Apparently, some local movers and shakers here in Frederick rekindled the sentiment after the re-emergence of “the Star-Spangled Banner’s” popularity during the American Civil War—at least in the North, that is. People recalled the song’s author, and many in his old home county wondered where he had been laid to rest. Some folks thought that he should be here in Frederick instead of Baltimore, where he had never lived. The argument was strengthened by the fact that we now had a new and progressive “garden cemetery” which had officially opened in 1854.
​
The chief responsible party for making the request and arrangements for re-interment of the Keys in Mount OLivet was George Murdoch Potts(1807-1893). This gentleman farmer was the son of Judge Richard Potts and Eleanor Murdoch. They were removed from All Saints Burying Ground and placed in, what we call, the Potts Lot--the only “gated community” within Mount Olivet. Here are buried members of the Potts family and also that of the Marshall family, whose patriarch, Richard Marshall, was one of the cemetery’s original founders and responsible for having Francis Scott Key’s parents buried here from the fore-mentioned All Saints' Episcopal graveyard. Mr. Marshall also made arrangements to bring Francis Scott Key's sister, Anne Taney here as well.

The story goes that Mr. Potts corresponded with two of Key’s daughters, the earlier mentioned Elizabeth Howard and another, Alice Key Pendleton. He introduced and inquired about the possibility of reburial in Frederick. Alice Key had married George H. Pendleton (1825-1889), an American politician and lawyer who represented Ohio in both houses of Congress and served as the Democratic nominee for Vice President of the United States in 1864 on the ticket with George B. McClellan.
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It has been said that Key’s daughters were against the idea of removal from Baltimore at first, however they warmed up to it over time. This is where “Junior” comes in.

I truly feel that Francis Scott Key Jr.’s death on April 4th, 1866 turned the tide. Maybe the concern arose with the family that there may not be enough room in the Howard vault for additional family members, whether they be Keys, or more importantly, Howards. Whatever the case, a decision was made for reburial in Frederick, and newspapers throughout the country carried the news and appear to give Mrs. Pendleton sole credit for the decision.

​I also think that whether the Key daughters knew it at the time or not, the opportunity for erecting a more fitting and substantial memorial to their famous father was likelier in his hometown of Frederick, without competing with the fine achievements of "crypt-mate" John Eager Howard and other Howard notables. The beautiful new cemetery in Frederick could accommodate additional Key family members for future burial and various forms of funerary sculpture and architecture not possible at old St. Paul’s. Permission was granted, and as said earlier, October 1st, 1866 marked the date of the 47-mile move of the four individuals in question.

Here is another aside, as I found an article from a local Frederick paper from May, 1920 that recounted the fact that undertaker A. T. Rice was responsible for conveying the Key bodies from the train to Mount Olivet. Apparently, Mr. Rice used an old fashioned hearse with "a hat top and no adornment, and drawn by one horse" for transporting Francis Scott Key Sr.'s coffin.

Francis Scott Key, Jr.

Francis Scott Key, Jr. was born October 7th, 1806 in Georgetown. Not much is known about his childhood, but we can get a glimpse from Edward Delaplaine’s biography of Francis’ father:

“A strong bond of affection existed among the members of the Key family. Francis Scott Key himself was deeply affectionate. He poured out his love for mother and father, for his sister Anne, and for Polly and the children. The family was a happy one. When Key reached forty, Polly had already given birth to eight children. Their eldest child, Elizabeth, was nearly sixteen. Maria was over fourteen. Frank, named after his father, was approaching thirteen. John, named after his grandfather, was ten. Ann was eight. Edward, named for Polly’s father, was nearly six. Daniel Murray, named for Key’s old college mate, was three. The baby, Philip Barton, named for Uncle Philip, was a year and four months.

Traditions are redolent of the many happy hours in Georgetown. “The shady lawn and orchard sloping to the Potomac’s edge,” wrote one of Key’s granddaughters many years after his death, “and the terraced garden with it walnut trees and Lombardy poplars shading the walks, made a happy playground for the household band. Here, for each child, a tiny round garden had been made by the gardener, under their father’s directions, and what ecstasies of delight abounded when the sprouting seed took the shape of names, and ‘Maria,’ ‘Lizzie,’ ‘Anna,’etc., were clearly spelled out in the center of the green seedlings!”

Education was important for the Key children, as was a sense of family history. The Keys regularly returned to the Key family plantation of Terra Rubra each summer. The location is in today’s Carroll County, just over the border at present day Keymar.

Info on Francis Scott Key, Jr. is hard to find. Like his father, he would receive his upper level education in Annapolis. He did not attend St. John’s College, but rather the US Naval Academy. While here, he would marry Elizabeth Lloyd Harwood on April 5th, 1826. Miss Harwood was a first cousin through his mother’s side of the family—the Lloyds. Interestingly, “Junior’s” mother, Polly Key, would now serve a new role as mother-in-law to her son’s new bride. Elizabeth had known Polly solely as an aunt for her first 18 years.
​
The family can be found living in multiple places over his life. After a childhood spent in Washington, DC, he can be found in Anne Arundel County in the 1830 census, Carroll County in 1840, Baltimore County in 1850 and Howard County in 1860. 

​The couple would have eight known children: Henry Harwood Key (1827-1889), Elizabeth Lloyd Key (1829-1919), Fannie Scott (Key) Dorsey (1840-1925), Alice Turner (Key) Smith (1833-1907), John Francis Key (1838-1920), Daniel Murray Key (1841-1913), Anne Arnold Key (1844-1850) and Wilfred Key (1845-1865) who died as a POW during the Civil War.

​I found an article from 1907 which helped shed a little more light on my subject. It comes from a front page article appearing in the Baltimore County Union, published in Towson (MD) on January 5th of 1907. In particular, the article talks about Mr. Key as being a former host of an elegant property known as “the Elms.”

​Mr. Key would be a resident of Harford County at the time of his death on April 4th, 1866. His obituary reports that his exact location of death was the Maltby House hotel. 

​Junior’s grave is located north of the original site of his parent’s graves on Area H, not far from Confederate Row. As visitors came to see the great patriot’s grave, his was spotted as well in close proximity. An article that was carried in many papers in 1878 talks of the shabby condition of the Key gravesite, especially in relation to other well-kept lots surrounding it.

​This outspoken article sparked attention. This was combined with questions asking why this “great American patriot” was not receiving the same treatment as the grand monument movement of the time in which Civil War soldiers and officers of both sides were being honored with beautiful works of marble, granite and bronze.

Within two decades, a grand monument was crafted for Francis Scott Key, Sr., and he and his wife were moved for a third, and final, time to a vault beneath the work crafted by Alexander Doyle and immigrant sculptor Pompeo Coppini.
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Replica stones would eventually replace the original gravemarkers for Francis and Polly.  All the while, Francis Scott Key, Jr’s gravestone has endured the trials of time, weather and obscurity--“Good Old Junior.”

So the 275th anniversary of Frederick is upon us, however after this year of 2020, it’s hard to get excited about anything outside an end to Covid-19 and political squabbling. Frederick Town, as it was originally named, was established in 1745 by lawyer and land speculator Daniel Dulany of Annapolis. That year, property lots were surveyed here, east of Catoctin Mountain, in the Monocacy Valley. The exact setting was Dulany’s parcel named Tasker’s Chance located in the extreme backwoods of Prince Georges County.
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For one reason or another, an arbitrary date of September 10th somehow arose as Frederick’s official founding date, but the origin/source of this particular day is somewhat unknown. The origin likely lies in a long lost “day planner” of either Mr. Dulany, or his hired surveyor, Thomas Cresap—the latter quite an interesting story himself! Regardless, three years later in 1748, Mr. Dulany would petition the Maryland General Assembly in establishing a brand, new county. He succeeded and Frederick County was carved out of the existing Prince George’s County, and Dulany’s planned community of Frederick Town would grow in stature as a new county seat.

​“The town of Frederick was laid out on Tasker’s Chance in September, 1745, on both sides of Carroll Creek.”
The quotation above comes from page 24 of a book I consider myself lucky to have in my collection. I’m not alone, as many are fortunate enough to own, or possess, a copy of one of the best reference publications and resources of our local history. Simply titled: History of Frederick County Maryland, this two-volume work was originally published in 1910 by the L.R. Titsworth & Co. and consists of 1,635 pages written by two special gentlemen: T. J. C. Williams and Folger McKinsey. 

​Judge Thomas John Chew Williams (1851-1929) was a newspaper editor, historian and prominent citizen of Washington County, who had capped a career in law, politics and newspaper work, with 19 years of service on the Juvenile Court bench of Baltimore. Although not buried here in Frederick’s Mount Olivet, but instead at St. Mark's Episcopal Church at Lappans (Washington County), Mr. Williams was quite familiar with many already buried here within Mount Olivet, and countless more eventually destined to reside here when their time would come. 

Judge Williams, son of the Rev. Henry Williams of the Protestant Episcopal Church, was born in Calvert County in 1851. At the age of 19, he was admitted to the bar and went to Hagerstown to practice in 1872. While in the law office of William T. Hamilton, then a United States Senator, Mr. Williams became interested in politics, and this association would lead him into the newspaper field. He soon became part owner of the Hagerstown Mail in 1874 at the age of 23. He remained at the Mail until 1891 when editorials attracted attention which led to an engagement as editorial writer on the Baltimore Sun. His first appointment to the juvenile court bench followed in 1910.
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Aside from his conspicuous work in the town newspaper field in Hagerstown and Baltimore, Judge Williams was the author of a history of Washington County in 1906. This would lead to his follow-up act in tackling of our county's history. To assist him in this endeavor, he would turn to one of the greatest newspapermen in our state’s history, a native of Elkton, Maryland named Folger McKinsey. McKinsey was best known by his pseudonym, the Bentztown Bard—a nod to valuable time spent in Frederick during his storied career.

​Though well-loved and remembered in many Maryland homes, McKinsey (1866-1950) really made a name for himself here where he was editor of The Frederick News daily and weekly editions. He earned his pen name by regularly writing poems for the local publications, usually “tongue in cheek” entries dealing with current and past events. While here in Frederick, he lived primarily on South Market Street, but is thought to have resided first in the area known as “Bentztown,” the vicinity of Bentz Street’s intersection with West Patrick Street. He rapidly became involved in the community, and is particularly credited for reinvigorating a stagnant effort to have a suitable memorial erected over the grave of Francis Scott Key here. Success in this undertaking was achieved in 1898, and McKinsey’s daughter was captured by photographers on the dedication day in early August.

​McKinsey eventually took his talents to a larger stage when he moved on to The Baltimore Sun where he was a features reporter and columnist. “The Bentztown Bard” provided readers with countless reflections on small-town life across Maryland from the mountains to shore. In addition, Folger McKinsey was an active debater, a skill that served him well as a friend of “The Sage of Baltimore,” H.L. Mencken of The Baltimore Sun, and a member of Mencken’s Saturday Night Club. He would remain in the employ of The Sun for 42 years, and lived out a gilded life at his 500-acre farm with six miles of waterfront on the Magothy River in Anne Arundel County. A nearby elementary school bears his name.

​Around 1907, McKinsey was approached by T. J. C. Williams to help write History of Frederick County, Maryland in two volumes. The second volume included biographies on leading members of the Frederick community. The inclusion of a family-oriented biography was a common practice and added incentive, used at the time to help sell the main history textbook (Volume 1) to subscribers. Many of these bio recipients are buried here in Mount Olivet, and it’s no wonder that I regularly call on volume 2 for help with my weekly “Stories in Stone” blog.

I first became aware of this two-volume masterpiece back in 1993 when I worked for Frederick Cablevision/GS Communications. I had recently begun work on a video documentary about Frederick City for its 250th anniversary commemoration. The project was completed in time for the official celebration date on September 10th, 1995. Williams and McKinsey’s history would prove a true Godsend to me, as I based the 10-hour documentary on its chronological telling of our rich story up through 1910. I then had to cover the next 85 years on my own with various other sources!

I began the documentary with a quote by T.J.C. Williams’ included in his introduction to the work. I thought it fitting to have my big boss, George B. Delaplaine, another newspaper professional and local history aficionado, perform the read. The passage goes as follows:

“The history of Frederick County is not merely a local history. It is a history of men and events of national importance and events.” 

Mr. Delaplaine’s uncle, the Hon. Edward S. Delaplaine, was tasked with writing the introduction for the re-publication of History of Frederick County in 1967—incidentally, the year I was born. Judge Delaplaine (1893-1989), a true local historian of Frederick and a pioneer and promoter of heritage tourism, had this to say in that reprint edition:

“The History of Frederick County is a lasting memorial to Thomas J. C. Williams. For more than half a century it has been used as a reference work by thousands of people—by historians and genealogists, by teachers and students, and persons in all walks of life who have desired to find information about early members of their families.
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Thomas J. C. Williams performed a valuable service in preserving information about a host of Marylanders, yet his own career had been almost forgotten. The story of his life—how the poor boy from the tobacco plantation toiled as public school teacher, as lawyer, as editor and publisher, as historian, as public servant, as churchman, and as Juvenile Judge, until he became a friend and confidant of publishers, prelates, senators, governors, and presidents—this is the story of a fine American.”

Judge Delaplaine is buried here in Mount Olivet and will definitely be chronicled by me one day in this blog. However, today, I just want to connect dots to a lesser known person, forgotten to the past, in an effort to show the true value of Williams’ and McKinsey’s work. I could give countless examples of how it influenced my work as I reflect back on the 25th anniversary of my Frederick Town documentary. Ironically, it was that same Delaplaine family that gave me the opportunity to make historical documentaries, thereby pushing me into the incredible field of public history in the first place. I guess when I think about it, I’m also nearing the fourth anniversary for this “Stories in Stone” blog, which originally began a year earlier as my HSP History Blog on my HistoryShark.com website. As a matter of fact, one of my first blogs was on Frederick founder Daniel Dulany.

When we traditionally think of the word biography, imagery of grade school is usually conjured up. It appeared as an early vocabulary word in language arts and English classes, and usually morphed into a written project assignment in which students had to write about someone’s life. And then there was social studies or history class assignments requiring us to read biographies of interesting people in history and retain fascinating facts and anecdotes about their lives.

The past week has certainly been a sentimental one for me, likely why I have school on my mind, especially high school. My son, Eddie, began his freshman year at my alma mater of Gov. Thomas Johnson High School. Among his classes this semester are Freshman English and AP History. I can’t believe that 35 years have passed since my high school graduation in 1985. While I’m at it, I find it necessary to thank all my former teachers, but especially the two most influential in my everyday professional life in presenting public history. One was Terry Hershey, my 10th and 12th grade AP English history instructor, who taught me how to write position papers, debate and overcome a fear of public speaking. The other was Mike Bunitsky, my 10th grade and 12th grade AP History teacher who had such a unique lecture and teaching style that not only made history fun, but certainly made it come alive for me and my classmates. 

Well, in writing this week’s piece, I decided to randomly choose one of the biographical subjects featured in Williams’ and McKinsey’s Volume II of History of Frederick County. I blindly opened the book and pointed to a name on the page. The recipient was a gentleman named John William Molesworth (b. 1848), who also appeared with a picture attached to his bio.

 I was familiar with the surname, but certainly not this gentleman. Before going any further, this choice had to pass one important test—Is he buried in Mount Olivet?  In checking the Mount Olivet grave database, I found the answer to be yes.

I went back and read Mr. Moleworth’s biography, before making a quick pilgrimage to his gravesite. Here is how the author(s) depicted Mr. Molesworth:

​Talk about some interesting and unexpected life details? Well, that’s what you can come to expect with the bios found in Williams and McKinsey. This is true gold for a family researcher or historian who comes upon an ancestor chronicling of this kind.

One additional connection I found lies in the fact that John's son, Roger Wright Molesworth (1898-1964) is one of 600 World War I veterans we have in Mount Olivet. A few years ago, we created a memorial page for him on our sister-site MountOlivetVets.com.

Our subject, John William Molesworth, died on January 3rd, 1912, just two years after History of Frederick County was originally published. He would be buried in Area OO/Lot 28. 

Thanks again T. J. C. Williams and Folger McKinsey. From the perspective of a judge and a poet, those who know nothing of our past history of Frederick and Frederick County, will usually experience a fitting “poetic justice” if given the opportunity to read your two-volume set.

Oh, and by the way, Happy Birthday to the City of Frederick......and many, many more! As a final tribute, I leave you with an address and poem delivered by Folger McKinsey upon a speaking engagement here in Frederick in 1911.

On September 2nd, 1945, Japan’s formal surrender took place aboard the USS Missouri, anchored in Tokyo Bay. There is a little bit of controversy tied up in the date of surrender because Americans first heard Japan’s emperor Hirohito actually make his announcement of surrender on national radio on August 14th. Again, to clarify, September 2nd marks the formal signing of the surrender document.

Regardless, both later dates came several months after the surrender of Nazi Germany, and hold a bit more weight as they officially ended World War II.  The significant “lettered” day(s) became known as “V-J Day,” and was added to the vernacular along with “V-E Day” (May 8th, 1945) and “D-Day” (June 6th, 1944).
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Japan’s defeat brought an end to six years of hostilities in the Pacific Theater of War. As can be imagined, this event was highly anticipated in bringing a peaceful return to American life, especially in the form of having soldiers, sailors and others serving in the armed forces( and hospital centers) back home.

Nothing better describes the feeling of “V-J Day” back home than an iconic picture most of us have seen. It captures an impromptu kiss in New York’s Times Square featuring a US sailor and a nurse. Entitled V-J Day in Times Square, the photograph by Alfred Eisenstaedt was published in Life Magazine in 1945 with the caption, "In New York's Times Square a white-clad girl clutches her purse and skirt as an uninhibited sailor plants his lips squarely on hers."

While I have the opportunity, Frederick has a connection to this world-renowned photo. The nurse was a one-time Frederick, Maryland resident named Greta (Zimmer) Friedman (June 5th, 1924 – September 8th, 2016). The Austrian native was actually a dental assistant with a uniform similar to that of a nurse. At the time of the photograph, Greta suddenly found herself grabbed and kissed by Navy sailor, George Mendonsa (1923–2019) on that celebratory day of August 14th, 1945.

It was a happy day of sorts for Greta as much as her veteran counterpart. She had experienced much heartache and fear over the previous six years. In 1939, at the age 15, Greta emigrated to America from Nazi-controlled Austria in with her younger sisters Josephine and Belle. Their parents, Max and Ida, unable to leave Europe, died in concentration camps during the Holocaust.

A decade after the photo was taken, Greta was married in 1956 to Dr. Mischa Friedman, a WWII veteran of the U.S. Army Air Corps and a scientific researcher for the Army at Fort Detrick. She would move to Frederick and lived at 314 W. College Terrace. She eventually attended Hood College, studying oil painting, printing, sculpture, and watercolors. She did not graduate until 1981, the same year her two grown children (Mara and Joshua) also graduated from college. Friedman worked for ten years at Hood restoring books.

​Greta Friedman died at age 92 on September 8th, 2016, in Richmond, Virginia. She is not in Mount Olivet, but instead inurned at Arlington National Cemetery beside her husband. As for Greta’s photo counterpart, memorialized forever in a photograph—George Mendonsa died last year after seven decades of proudly recounting the kiss that brought him fame.

​Just as important to him, were his stories told about his time aboard the USS The Sullivans, a ship named for five brothers from Iowa who died when their ship, the USS Juneau, was sunk by a Japanese submarine in 1942. This family tragedy was part of the impetus for the storyline in the motion picture “Saving Private Ryan.”  United States Army Rangers Captain John H. Miller (Tom Hanks) and his squad were tasked with the search for a paratrooper, Private First Class James Francis Ryan (Matt Damon), the last surviving brother of a family of four, with his three other brothers having been killed in action.

The Sullivan brothers enlisted in the US Navy on January 3rd, 1942, with the stipulation that they serve together. The Navy had a policy of separating siblings, but this was not strictly enforced. George and Frank Sullivan had served in the Navy before, but their brothers had not. All five were assigned to the light cruiser USS Juneau.The Juneau participated in a number of naval engagements during the months-long Guadalcanal Campaign which began in August 1942.

Early in the morning of November 14th, 1942, during the Naval Battle of Guadalcanal, the USS Juneau was struck by a Japanese torpedo and forced to withdraw. Later that day, as it was leaving the Solomon Islands' area for the Allied rear-area base at Espiritu Santo with other surviving US warships from battle, the Juneau was struck again, this time by a torpedo from a Japanese submarine. The torpedo likely hit the thinly armored light cruiser at or near the ammunition magazines and the ship exploded and quickly sank.

As a direct result of the Sullivans' deaths (and the deaths of four of the Borgstrom brothers within a few months of each other two years later), the US War Department adopted the Sole Survivor Policy:
​
"Special Separation Policies for Survivorship" describes a set of regulations in the Military of the United States that are designed to protect members of a family from the draft or from combat duty if they have already lost family members in military service.”

​Some may recall a “Story in Stone” written back in December 2016 about former county resident Ray Jacob Stambaugh, buried here in Mount Olivet within the confines of our World War II monument. He was a native of Jimtown, a small crossroads southeast of Thurmont where MD route 550 and Hessong Bridge Road intersect Moser Road. 

Jacob Stambaugh served as a fireman on a ship in the US Navy. He would die not far from where the Sullivan brothers perished near Espiritu Santo. He was reported missing in action in early September, 1942. An article in the Frederick News (dated October 3rd, 1942) confirmed Stambaugh’s death at the age of 21. He would be the first World War II Naval casualty from Frederick County. Interestingly, Jacob’s death would inspire his only brother, Luther M. Stambaugh, to immediately enlist in the US Navy upon hearing of his sibling’s death.

Ray Jacob Stambaugh actually died on August 4th, 1942 aboard the USS Tucker.  I soon found the following account documenting an event that occurred off the South Pacific island of New Hebrides:

“The Tucker entered the harbor at Espiritu Santo's western entrance, leading the cargo ship SS Nira Luckenbach, unaware they had entered a minefield laid earlier by US Navy minelayers. After striking at least one mine, the destroyer was almost torn in two at the No. 1 stack, killing all three of the crew in the forward fireroom. The rest of the crew survived but Tucker did not. The destroyer slowly settled in the water and sank. An investigation revealed that the USS Tucker had not been given information about the existence of the minefield.”

I wrote the particular story (about Stambaugh) as the cemetery co-hosted a solemn commemoration with our DAR partners in December, 2016 in accordance with the 75th anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Interestingly, Jacob Stambaugh was aboard the USS Tucker the previous year which survived Japan’s devastating surprise, aerial attack on the US naval base on December 7th, 1941 at Pearl Harbor on Oahu, Hawaii. This “day of infamy” capped a decade of deteriorating relations between Japan and the United States and led to an immediate US declaration of war the following day. Japan’s ally Germany, led by Adolf Hitler, then declared war on the United States, turning the war raging in Europe into a global conflict. 

Over the next three years, superior technology and productivity allowed the Allies to wage an increasingly one-sided war against Japan in the Pacific, inflicting enormous casualties while suffering relatively few. By 1945, in an attempt to break Japanese resistance before a land invasion became necessary, the Allies were consistently bombarding Japan from air and sea leading to V-J Day in mid-August and the formal surrender just weeks later on September 2nd.

As was the case in World War I, the bodies of many local casualties returned home and are buried in cemeteries throughout the county. Several are here within Frederick's Mount Olivet.

With assistance from a myriad of local groups and donors,  a monument was proposed and built here to honor the memory of those 200+ former residents who made the ultimate sacrifice. It  lies within Mount Olivet Cemetery’s Area EE, and was originally dedicated on May 30th, 1948.
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The double-columned monument, made of Indiana limestone, features a central obelisk containing the names of 219 individuals from all parts of Frederick County. Atop this pilaster is a sculpted eternal flame of gold, below which read: “The flame of love shall burn into our hearts the memory of our noble dead.”

​What makes this memorial even more sacred is the fact that it is flanked by the remains of 30 World War II veterans who died in the line of duty in both Europe and the Pacific. These men are buried in a semi-circular design around the monument and their final resting spots are marked by flat, military-issue stone markers of white marble.

Here is a brief overview showing the location of death for the 30 active-duty casualty victims interred here within MOC’s World War II monument:

Traditional Pacific Islands/Pacific Theater                                                                                                          7
Southern Pacific (India)                                                                                                                                                   1
Traditional Europe/ European Theater (France, Germany, Belgium, Holland, England)         19
Southern European Theater (Italy)                                                                                                                          2
Africa (Tunisia)                                                                                                                                                                     1

In addition to the fore-mentioned Ray Jacob Stambaugh, a breakdown of those seven other boys who died in the Pacific Theater shows that two men, 2nd Lt. Nathan G. Dorsey, Jr.  (1919-1945) and PFC Earl Mason Harwood (1924-1945), died on the Japanese Island of Okinawa.

Nathan G. Dorsey was a former schoolteacher from Mount Airy, somewhat reminiscent of Capt. Miller (Tom Hanks) in Saving Private Ryan. Ironically, I found a newspaper article dating from July, 1939 which reported the College Park (Maryland) grad was responsible for Japanese Beetle control in his hometown as it was affecting farm crops and the local canning business. Dorsey’s father was a well-known businessman who dabbled in politics at various levels. He would serve as mayor of Mount Airy at the time of his son’s participation in the war. 

​2nd Lt. Nathan G. Dorsey would die in May, 1945 and was buried in a military cemetery in the Pacific. His body would be brought back to the US in 1949, and soon after re-interred in Mount Olivet within the World War II Memorial.

​PFC Harwood was a native of Burkittsville and a standout baseball player at Brunswick High who was drafted by the New York Yankees and expected to play for one of their minor league teams after the war. He was the youngest of six sons, five of whom served in the Armed Forces. He landed on Okinawa on Easter Sunday, April 1st, 1945, and was killed in action on May 11th. Harwood was buried in Mount Olivet on March 12th, 1949, three days before 2nd Lt. Dorsey was laid to rest.

​Irvin B. Gaver (1921-1944), a resident who once lived at 410 W. South Street in Frederick, perished in a plane crash at Midnapore, India. The recent newlywed and Frederick High grad was serving as a flight officer within the US Army’s Air Force. Sadly, Mrs. Gaver (the former Claudine Smith) learned of her husband’s death on August 14th, 1944 through the War Department’s usual message of sympathy to bereaved relatives, and not through an initial telegram with such news as was customary. Flight Officer Gaver had died on July 26th, and Mrs. Gaver had last received a letter from him dated July 22nd.

I was able to find the following official report of the accident on the internet courtesy of the Flight Safety Foundation:

​Four other victims of the Pacific Theater buried within the the proximity of the Mount Olivet World War II Memorial died while in active duty in the Philippines. The Philippines campaign (also known as the Battle of the Philippines or the Fall of the Philippines) occurred from December 8th, 1941 – May 8th, 1942 and featured an invasion by Imperial Japan and the defense of the islands by United States and Philippine forces.

​ In November, 2019, I wrote a “Stories in Stone” article about Brigadier General Allan Clay McBride, entitled “Marched to Death.” A former resident of both Jefferson and Frederick City, Allan C. McBride (1885–1944) was an American brigadier general and chief of staff in the Philippines at the time of the Japanese invasion. He would survive the infamous Bataan Death March, but would die in a Japanese Prisoner of War camp on the nearby island of Formosa, better known today as Taiwan.

The Japanese launched the invasion by sea from Formosa, over 200 miles north of the Philippines. The defending forces outnumbered the Japanese by 3 to 2, but were a mixed force of non-combat experienced regular, national guard, constabulary and newly-created Commonwealth units. The Japanese used first-line troops at the outset of the campaign, and by concentrating their forces swiftly overran most of country's largest island, Luzon, during the first month.

The Japanese high command, believing they had won the campaign, made a strategic decision to advance by a month their timetable of operations in Borneo and Indonesia, withdrawing their best division and the bulk of their airpower in early January 1942. This, coupled with the defenders' decision to withdraw into a defensive holding position in the Bataan Peninsula, enabled the Americans and Filipinos to successfully hold out for four more months.

​Japan's conquest of the Philippines is often considered the worst military defeat in United States history. About 23,000 American military personnel and about 100,000 Filipino soldiers were killed or captured. ​Three individuals who died there are buried here in this hallowed ground immediately surrounding the eternal flame monument: Cpl. George William Ford, PFC Mehrle E. Leatherman, and Pvt. Russell Yinger Dansberger.

​Now, I’ve just summarized the lives, and deaths, of simply seven of the 30 servicemen buried by our World War II monument/memorial. Keep in mind that there are several other World War II vets buried in the cemetery who also died in active service, but with this article I am  just focusing on those buried in the  semi-circle at the memorial.

Outside of those connected to the War in the Pacific, and especially revered on this monumental 75th anniversary of “V-J Day,” nineteen others died in northern Europe, primarily in France and Germany, with a few succumbing in Belgium, Holland and England. Two additional soldiers fell in Italy and another perished in Tunisia while seeing combat in the war's North African campaign. Of special note, I'd like to tell you about a few other slabs of marble which rest over the bodies of a set of Frederick County brothers killed during active duty during World War II. Next to them is a trio of cousins, I’d also like to introduce their story to you.

The Hessong Brothers
Your familiarity with this peculiar name may be based more on the famed Frederick County road (and bridge) mentioned earlier in conjunction with Ray Jacob Stambaugh’s home than by knowing an actual acquaintance by this surname. ​John T. Hessong (1848-1922) was a farmer whose property was located at the intersection of Black Mills Road and his namesake, Hessong Bridge Road. The Hessongs, or earlier Hessons, came from the Alsace region between France and Germany and settled here locally atop the western slope of Catoctin Mountain in the northwestern area of Frederick County of Wolfsville and Ellerton.

Although I'd love to continue this genealogical study, I will skip ahead to descendants that distinguished themselves in the Second World War.

Hailing from the Wolfsville area, the Hessong brothers, Robert and Arthur, were sons of farmers James Ellsworth Hessong and Sadie Ellen Brandenburg. There were 12 Hessong siblings in all, the last of which, Paul, passed away in October, 2018 at the age of 89.
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Robert Lee Hessong was born on April 19th, 1922 and went by the nickname of Bob. He served in the 26th Infantry of the 1st Division of the US Army and reached the rank of Private First Class. Hessong was killed in action in Normandy, France on June 12th, 1944, having taken part in the legendary D-Day Invasion. His unit landed on Normandy at 7:30pm on D-Day. He would die a week later in the coastal town of Caen.

​Instead of having their son buried in the family’s home church of St. Mark’s Lutheran in Wolfsville, the Hessongs opted to have him buried in Mount Olivet on September 18th, 1948. PFC Robert Lee Hessong occupies lot #10 within the cemetery’s World War II memorial area.

​​In addition to the fore-mentioned “Bob” Hessong, three other brothers were serving in various branches of the armed services. However, less than two months after the death of Robert, the Hessong family would receive more terrible news—the death of son Arthur Jacob Hessong.

​PFC “Art” Hessong was a member of the Army’s 141st Infantry Regiment assigned to the 36th Division. He too would die in France, but in the southern part of the country. The 24-year-old was born on March 13th, 1920.

Like his younger brother, Arthur was buried in Mount Olivet under the shadow of the World War II Memorial on the same day of September 18th, 1944. He occupies Lot #11.

As can be seen in the articles, both Robert and Arthur had experienced earlier combat action in Italy. Thankfully for Mr. and Mrs. Hessong, they would be reunited once again with sons Joseph (1915-1972) and Parker (1924-1990), upon their safe returns home after the war. 

​Kennedy Cousins
Next to the Hessong brothers, lie three cousins, buried side by side within Mount Olivet’s World War II Memorial. They are PFC Francis Leo Kennedy, Jr., PFC Charles Francis Kennedy and Lt. Ignatius Benson Keyser.  

​The Irish Catholic family of brothers who would dominate political fame would come a few decades later, but this one would certainly be known to Frederick Countians during wartime because of losses experienced. That seems to be an interesting irony as well?

​Francis Leo Kennedy, Jr., the son of Francis Leo Kennedy, Sr. and Flora Victoria Marsh was killed on the Tunisian front in North Africa on March 31st, 1943. He lived at 219 E. Church Street in downtown Frederick and attended St. John’s Catholic High School a block from his home. Previous to going into the service, he worked with his father at the Kennedy Stove House. He served in the US Army’s 16th Regiment of the 1st Infantry Division. 

Francis Kennedy's parents received additional bad news the following year in 1944 as their son John would be reported  "missing in action." 

​Charles Francis Kennedy, the son of Bernard Joseph Kennedy, Sr. and Myrtle Blanche Woullard, grew up next door to his cousins Francis and John in a rowhouse located at 217 E. Church Street. Born December 3rd, 1919, he was a member of the 115th infantry regiment of the US Army’s famed 29th Division. Charles lost his life on August 10th, 1944 as he was killed in France.

​Francis and Charles had a paternal aunt named Mary Louise (Kennedy) Keyser, the wife of Calvin Vincent Keyser. The Keysers were the parents of Ignatius Benson (born October 27th, 1920).

Lt. Ignatius B. Keyser was a member of the 51st Armored Infantry Battalion of the US Army’s 4th Armored Division under Gen. George S. Patton. He was killed in action near Bastogne, Belgium on Christmas Day, 1944.

The sacrifices made by the Hessongs, Kennedys and countless others in uniform led to "V-E Day," celebrated on May 8th, 1945. Their county, countrymen and fellow soldiers would not forgot their loss. A monument listing the names of all World War II servicemen and women from Frederick County was dedicated in Memorial Park at the corner of W. Second and N. Bentz streets. As I recounted earlier, plans were made for an eternal reminder here in Frederick's "Garden Cemetery" as well.

​The dedication ceremony was held for Mount Olivet’s World War II Memorial on May 30th, 1948 at 3:00pm. The ceremony was well-attended and featured an address by Brig. Gen. William C. Purnell, War Time Commander of the 175th Infantry Regiment of the 29th Division. 

​One of the most poignant moments of the ceremony came with the placing of a wreath of dedication to all those Frederick young men who made the greatest sacrifice on behalf of their country. A Gold Star mother was chosen for this important honor. It was Mrs. Flora Kennedy, mother of Francis Leo Kennedy, Jr. and former POW John Robert Kennedy.

​Mrs. Kennedy’s son, Francis Leo, and her two nephews would be buried five months later on October 5th, 1948 in Mount Olivet, after having been buried first overseas.

We think we've had it rough in the year 2020? We will forever be "holding the beers" for those of the "Greatest Generation" who truly knew sacrifice for our freedoms, while celebrating life's blessings always and often. One of the greatest was the final end of World War II, seventy-five years ago on "V-J Day."

I recently saw an interesting meme on the internet which is attributed to American humorist Samuel L. Clemens, better known by his pen/stage name of Mark Twain:

"If voting made any difference, they wouldn't let us do it."

Ironically, as I looked further to research this quote and gain context to when, and why, Twain made this clever remark, I found that he really didn't say it at all. The internet has simply inaccurately attached it to him, but Twain historians say "no way." In fact, Mark Twain was a key proponent of the election process. In a 1905 interview in Boston, he is said to have told the press:

"In this country we have one great privilege which they don't have in other countries. When a thing gets to be absolutely unbearable the people can rise up and throw it off. That's the finest asset we've got-the ballot box."

Apparently the quote originated in the 1960s or 1980s, but it is a complicated web of potential individuals that may have been the source. So again, leave it to the mainstream media and social media to perhaps lead us astray. I'm thankful I looked further into the subject, because it is always good to check more than one source. And therein lies the moral of the story, make the effort to seek the truth whatever side of politics you are on. 

No matter the source, the supposed Twain quote at hand has particular historical relevance this year, because an important part of American society, roughly half, wasn't allowed to participate in the political election process until 1920. This group was women. The mainstream media of the day, along with our local newspaper of record, did a great job of telling the women's suffrage story and encouraged the fairer sex to register and get to the polls on November 2nd, 1920 once they had achieved voting equality.

The Covid pandemic and racial injustice/police reform riots have certainly distracted away interest for proper commemoration of this monumental achievement. Again, its hard to fathom this was possible, as are so many things in our history when viewed through the modern lens of today. To further the context, black males had already been given given the right to vote with the ratification of the 15th Amendment to the Constitution. This occurred 50 years before women were afforded the chance!

Interestingly, Maryland can trace its activism for woman suffrage all the way back to its very earliest days as a British colony. In 1648, Margaret Brent (1601-1671), a lawyer and executor of Governor Leonard Calvert’s estate, petitioned the Maryland General Assembly for a vote in the governing body. She argued that as a landowner, she was due the same rights that male Marylanders enjoyed. The Assembly rejected her demand.

Frederick and the Vote
Not a whole lot of work has been done on the local level in chronicling the subject of the women's suffrage movement as it pertains to Frederick. That is until early last year. In her Preservation Matters series, the talented author and researcher on all things local preservation, Lisa Mroszczyk, wrote about the subject in her regular column in the Frederick News-Post. This article appeared on March 10th, 2019 under the title of "Local women's suffrage movement coalesced in early 20th century." Here is a portion of that amazing article:

​In the summer of 1910, Miss M.L. Manning, field secretary of the Just Government League of Maryland, came to Frederick and went from house to house interviewing the city’s men and women and recording her impressions. The Just Government League of Maryland was founded in 1909 by Edith Houghton Hooker as an affiliate of the National American Woman Suffrage Association. Manning was internationally known for her work for women’s suffrage in her native Australia. It was reported that Miss Manning stopped in at 205 E. Second St., a boardinghouse operated by Margaret Young, in September. It is unknown if Manning simply stayed for a time at the boardinghouse while she worked in Frederick or if Mrs. Young or one of her boarders was a supportive contact for the local suffrage effort. It appears that Miss Manning concluded her Frederick tour with a lecture on Australia, including progressive suffrage legislation, in Kemp Hall on Sept. 16, 1910. Kemp Hall was the site of another suffrage lecture in 1913 by Miss Alice Carpenter, another suffragist prominent at the national level.

On Nov. 28, 1910, Edith Houghton Hooker, founder and president of the Just Government League, came to Frederick to speak to the Frederick Female Seminary Alumnae and the Art Club at the YMCA and to plead for the establishment of a local branch. Once the local branch was formed early the following year, the YMCA would become the site of many of the chapter’s meetings over the ensuing decade. The YMCA stood at the southeast corner of Church and Court streets (it was destroyed by fire in the 1970s). The Frederick branch of the Just Government League was formerly established in one of the classrooms at the Women’s College, which was housed at this time in Winchester Hall, East Church Street, in March 1911. Twelve directors were appointed to conduct monthly meetings and about 50 women had demonstrated interest in membership. On Oct. 6, 1911, the Just Government League hosted the Rev. Dr. Anna H. Shaw, president of the National Suffrage Association and prominent leader in the movement. She spoke in the Women’s College Hall to a large audience after being introduced by Miss Florence Trail.

​On June 4, 1919, the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution was passed and sent to the states for ratification. The county courthouse, in the building that now serves as City Hall, made another appearance in the local suffrage movement when it served as the site of a woman’s suffrage rally on Dec. 16, 1919. U.S. Sen. Kenneth McKellar, of Tennessee, a strong advocate for women’s voting rights, was the featured speaker, along with Miss Maud Younger, a prominent suffragist from California and leader in the National Women’s Party. A resolution was adopted calling for the county’s legislators to vote for ratification of the amendment.

On Feb. 20, 1920, Maryland voted against ratification. The following May, Florence Trail announced what was likely the last meeting of the Frederick Just Government League, held at the Frederick Armory, since 35 states had since ratified the amendment. By August, the required 36 states ratified the amendment, giving women the right to vote. Maryland did not ratify the amendment until 1941.

Weeks after the ratification date of August 18th, groups in Frederick held additional meetings to organize according to political party. Local leaders urged women neighbors to do their duty in voting.  

Frederick's newspaper editor also did his part to positively influence ladies to register and exercise the new right given them. He also told of the corruption involved in the process, something that could be duly countered by an informed, participating electorate. However, an article in early September told the story of at least one well-known female citizen who had decided to take a pass on the election booth.  She would not  vote in a life that spanned a century, saying that there was no reason to start now. ​

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One of the interesting things about this time period in our history was the strength and momentum of the temperance movement and its effects on national politics. This was, and still is, a movement aimed to curb the consumption of alcohol. It had a large influence on American politics and American society in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, a time of demographic and economic change in America. Urbanization, industrialization, the rise of the women’s rights and woman suffrage movements, progressivism, immigration and World War I all contributed to the society that voted to go “dry.”  Feminists like Susan B. Anthony supported prohibition because the abuse of alcohol so often led to violence against women.  Anti-immigration proponents associated alcohol with Irish and German immigrants. The Anti-Saloon League fought political opposition from brewers by connecting German beer with treason in the public imagination. 

The Eighteenth Amendment was passed by Congress in 1917, ratified in 1919, and went into effect at 12:01 am on January 17, 1920. The temperance movement had triumphed. Their victory was short-lived, however, as many Americans made and drank alcohol in violation of the law. Bootlegging and organized crime stepped in to profit from the market for spirits, while law enforcement lagged behind the rise in criminal behavior. Prohibition was unsustainable. In 1933 the Twenty-First Amendment would eventually repeal the Eighteenth, and manufacture, sale and consumption of alcohol again became legal in the United States.