Small, Serene, Simply….Garnett

“Who was Julia Ash”, asks Noreen in the patient and inquisitive tones typical of my sister, at least, that’s how she is when we are on the road together.  She poses this question after we already have driven up and down several streets in this Kansas community of Garnett.  “Small, serene, simply….Garnett” is how it describes itself on its webpage.  With its population of nearly 3500 residents, the place is not really all that small, at least according to my experience after having grown up in a town just half its size.

Our grandfather, Leslie F. Rice, lived and taught in Garnett during the years of 1912 to 1914.  Granddad married Grace Rich on August 24, 1912 and within a few weeks the couple moved to Garnett where he began his first teaching position in the state.

Located in the southeast corner of the state, Garnett in 1912 had a population of over 2300 residents. An electric plant, flour and feed mill, creamery, cigar factories, opera house, fire department, eleven churches, a high school and grade schools, two daily newspapers, two weeklies, and “several blocks of substantially built business houses”.   Goodness, the number of newspapers, the opera house, and eleven churches quite impress me. These facilities alone would be enough to encourage Granddad and Grandmother to this location for his first teaching job in the state. They were to change locations five times while remaining in the state for thirteen years until they moved to North Dakota in 1926.  And four of their five children were born here.

But the available facilities were undoubtedly merely contributing factors to their choice of residence. Well known to Granddad, and very likely also to Grace, was the Ash family who had settled in the community some years before.  They would certainly have encouraged the young couple to make the move, ah yes, they would have been were instrumental in their doing so.  Mrs. Ash, Julia, was Granddad's aunt, well, nearly.  It was in Garnett that Leslie and Grace made their first home.  They remained here until 1914 when they moved on to Salina, Kansas.

On this occasion, October 2012, Noreen and I had been looking for the home of Andrew and Julia Ash on Olive Street.  I had gotten the address from the Federal Census of 1910, but we were unable to find the location.  The town might have been rezoned such that the streets and house numbers have been changed, or the house torn down, or the address wrongly transcribed.  Not really so unusual after over one hundred years.

Thus Noreen’s very reasonable question. “Who was Julia Ash”?

“Although Julia Ash was biologically Granddad’s second cousin once removed, she was in many ways Granddad’s aunt, or maybe more correctly, “step-aunt” if there is such as position.  She was the daughter of Thomas and Elizabeth Turner of Rock Creek, Kansas. However, when her mother died in 1875 Julia was taken in by her father’s cousin, Julia Rice, that is, our great-great grandmother. At the time Julia Turner (Ash) was thirteen years old and our Great-grandfather, Francis, was 22.   Does this make sense?  Think about it for a while and your mind will put all this in form of a cute little family tree.  Julia Rice (our great-great-grandmother) - Francis Jay Rice (our great-grandfather), Julia Turner (foster sister), and Leslie F. Rice (our granddad).

As the years passed, Julia Rice and Julia Turner became closely tied to each other, living in the same household for mutual benefit, each taking care of the other. Julia Turner quickly became a beloved family member, a daughter to Julia Rice, and a sister to Francis. After Julia Turner married Andrew Ash in 1885, she continued to care for her mother who remained with the family. Julia Rice was blind during the last few years in Garnett, and in 1904 moved to Siloam Springs, Arkansas to live with her son and family. There she died and was buried two years later in 1906.

Julia Ash and Andrew remained in Garnett and in 1927 she passed on.  Andrew in 1930. Both are buried in the cemetery outside of town.  It’s because of her close ties with the family that I would like to visit their graves.”

“Which direction should I drive now in order to find the cemetery”, another more than reasonable question from Noreen as she concentrated on searching the house numbers just in case we missed what we have been looking for.

“Continue north along Olive Street and then make a little jog onto Neosho Road. The Garnett cemetery is by the road side.”

At the end of Olive Street we left the community outskirts, and entered the Kansas prairie.  We drove three or four blocks into the countryside until we could begin to see the gravestones on the top of a small rise.

“I see the gate on the right at the top of this hill”, I said, as I began to realize that the task we had taken upon us would be nearly impossible.

“Look at all those stones, Sis”.  There must be a thousand of them.”

Noreen and I have on several occasions walked cemeteries in search of memorial remnants of long gone relatives.  Our searches have been made both in Canada and the USA. Usually we either found them, or the stones were not there.  This time the task seemed insurmountable.

“Where in the world did all these burials come from?”   In my hometown of Mott we could easily have walked the Sunny Slope Cemetery, inspecting each stone, reading each name, several times.  Mott in my day had about 1500 residents and for some reason my mindset on this day had all the Kansas towns at this size or smaller. I mean, in western North Dakota a community of 1500 was pretty good sized. Garnett at 3500 rather threw me, and I was not properly prepared for the task.

We both gazed in wonderment at the stones as we drove along the trail through the center of the graveyard. Noreen looking on her side, me on mine.  Not only was there what seemed to be an unaccountable number of stones, but nearly half were placed flat on the ground.  Much like footstones. These stones could only be registered from the car as existing, but were impossible to read.

We drove slowly, searching, but knowing that this would not give any results.  At the end of the road, Noreen turned the car and drove slowly back towards the entrance.

“There’s no way we are going to find those graves without a map or a register. There is simply no way.  We could walk this cemetery all day and not find anything.  In fact, we don’t really know if the markers are still here.” Was my pessimistic contribution. “We can just as well call it a day.”

“Maybe Leslie will help us”, Noreen’s thoughts became verbal.

?????, thought I.  “Ja, sure!”

“Who knows?” thought Noreen aloud.  “Maybe Granddad can give us some direction.”

Again, “Ja, sure”.  I knew that she has recently been watching Oprah’s “Super Soul Sundays” and has begun to consider the possibilities of meditation, but to this….?

Noreen parked the car on the road side.  “Let’s just give it a try.  Who knows what we will find.”  Besides, we didn’t have much else on our schedule for the day, and although it was cloudy and cool, we both could use the exercise. 

So we began.  Noreen walking on the cemetery’s left side.  I along the right, following the rows from the middle to the far right, and back again. Each endless row, and continuing deeper and deeper into the cemetery which was eternal not only for its occupants, but seemed also for us as we tried to read each stone, both those standing and those laying half buried in the grass.

In time, I rather lost track of Noreen.  I moved faster than she, knowing full well that this was not going to work.   I should previously have tried to locate more info on the graves.  A lot number or at least a section number.  This was not the first time I was unable to complete a search due to being poorly prepared.

Stones upright, large and small, old and new, readable and illegible, brightly colored, others covered with lichens and moss, some of brass, others marble or granite, some with figures, with pictures. The stones standing I could at least read. But those lying flat were more of a challenge. In places soil half way covered them, others the grass.  And even though I knew we would be unable to accomplish our goal, there is something comforting about walking a cemetery. Well, at least, during the day…. Probably not so much at night.

The neatly ordered rows of stones and memorials help to create a calm atmosphere in which to slowly wander, and yes, meditate, at least in the form of just letting my thoughts wander, restlessly as my feet moved in an orderly fashion.

I thought about our Granddad Leslie as a young teacher in this prairie town, and Grace his young wife who kept the home fires burning.  Grace, a very cheerful and social person, would not have spent her time at home cleaning, preparing meals, and waiting for Granddad.  She undoubtedly reached out and became acquainted with the residents of Garnett.  She might even have taught school, and she for certain gave piano lessons.

As I walked among the gravestones, I also imagined evenings which Granddad and Grace would spend with his Aunt Julia, also a teacher. I imagined Julia with her youngest girl Christine, seventeen years old. And Andrew the carpenter. All sitting at the kitchen table, reminiscing about early Kansas. The Ash family wasn’t wealthy, but they could share rich memories of growing up in Kansas, of Leslie’s grandmother, and his dad Francis.

In my wandering thoughts, they talk about their daughter Helen, twenty-four and living away from home with relatives. Leslie tells of the Santa Fe Railway which he and Grace take from Siloam Springs to Topeka and then on to Garnett. Granddad could tell of teaching Indians in Oklahoma Territory, just across the border from Garnett. And while talking about home in Arkansas, Julia and Christine would pry out of Leslie and Grace tidbits about their courtship. Shy as he is, Leslie reveals little about the dark haired beauty from Arkansas, but Grace with a smiling enthusiam tells more.

As I think of Leslie, and Grace, and Andrew, and Julia, I look down, and by my feet, as Noreen predicted, are the markers:

Garnett Municipal Cemetery.  All 40 acres on an October afternoon in 2012

The gravestones were at my feet

The photo is from 1895 showing the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway on the Kansas prairie. Granddad used this railroad when traveling from his home in Siloam Springs, Arkansas to various locations in Kansas, including Garnett.

The railroad station for the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway at Garnett, Kansas, as it appears today. 

From here Granddad took the train whenever traveling in Kansas

A portion of the Rice family tree showing Julia P. (Turner) Ash’s place in the tree

Leslie F. Rice
The actual date of this picture is unknown. However, we can assume that it is from about the time our Granddad
lived at Garnett, Kansas

Notes:

On the 3^rd of March, 1855 Julia Rice fled Logansport, Indiana in the middle of the night, together with her mother and her two sons, leaving her husband, Gilbert Rice, behind.  This was the last time Gilbert ever saw his sons. Edward, the oldest died five years later, and Francis lived in Kansas and Arkansas, a considerable distance from St. Paul, the later home of his father.

Gilbert mourned over his loss for over 50 years.  From letters which Gilbert in later years wrote to Julia Ash, we know that he never understood the reasons for his wife’s leaving, (in his words “deserting”), the family, and that he never recovered from the divorce.  In his aging years Gilbert wrote to his former wife, the letter arriving when his ex-wife was living with Julia Ash and the Ash family.  Julia Rice ignored the letter.

Julia Ash knew that Gilbert had last seen his son as an infant some 40 years earlier. She would also have known that Gilbert was aging and that none of the involved individuals were likely to take an initiative to be reacquainted with one another. Curiosity and concern are strong motives, which is probably why Julia Ash, risking the wrath of her “mother”, opened the letter and began to correspond with Gilbert. It appears as if this correspondence was kept a secret from one of the individuals involved, Julia Rice herself.

After a brief correspondence with Gilbert, Julia Ash informed Francis of the correspondence and succeeded in her endeavor to connect Gilbert with his son.  Although they never met, several letters were exchanged between father and son before Gilbert died in 1904.

Credits:

- “Kansas. A Cyclopedia of State History…”. Editor Frank W. Blackmar. Standard Pub. Co., Chicago. 1912. P. 712 

- Photo of ATSF depot, Garnett, Kansas by Mike Pennington 17 May 2008

- Photo of “Passenger Train of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway, around 1895” from Wikipedia. Author
             unknown.

- Photo of Leslie F. Rice. From personal collecton of Norman W. Mills

- All other photos by Norman W. Mills