Logansport, Indiana June 9, 2013

My stay here in Logansport is drawing to a close, much to my disappointment.  I could easily have stayed here for an indefinite period of time, well, except for the love of my family reminding me that I live somewhere else.  My stay in this 1838 Indiana community has not only been one of unraveling historical mysteries, but also one of emotions and imagined memories. Here in Logansport I have found an accumulation of historical people who have been a part of my life for many years.

These individuals of time passed first began to appear in the late 1960s when I read letters written by my great-great grandfather, Gilbert J. Rice, a one time resident of this Midwest  community.  Through the words in his letters, other family members who were a part of his life became a part of mine.  Julia G. Potter, Anselm Potter, Julia M. Rice, Francis Rice, Edward P. Rice, Minerva Stuart and many more.

Logansport is where my entire family history, as I have been involved with it, comes together, only to separate again with one branch going south.  Here in 1835-1838 the Rice family moved to the city, even before it became incorporated. This family with a true pioneer spirit took advantage of the opportunities available on the young frontier.  The Rice family came first, established themselves, and soon after, the Potters arrived. The two families mixed and became one.   

Gilbert and his half-brother Benjamin Spencer moved to Logansport in 1835-1837, and here they established a viable grocery business.  Their success encouraged their mother Lucretia, and the rest of their siblings to make the journey from Pavilion, New York to this growing community.  Lucretia with at least six of her children moved to Logansport in 1838, and thus the entire Rice family had arrived.

In 1838, seventeen old Minerva Potter married the young lawyer William Z. Stuart of Logansport.  Anselm and Julia Potter along with their daughter Julia M. made frequent visits to their young daughter, Minerva.  

During one of these visits, Julia M. met Gilbert Rice. They were married in 1845, a year of particular importance. In that year Anselm was placed in an institution for the insane and Julia G. joined Gilbert, Julia, and Minerva in Logansport.  Thus the entire Potter family had arrived and intertwined with the Rice. In 1850 Julia gave birth to Edward and then in 1852, Francis.

The names are many.

Lucretia: my great-great-great grandmother
Gilbert J. Rice: her son
Elihu Rice: her son
Benjamin Spencer: her son and half-brother to Gilbert and Elihu
Julia G. Potter: my great-great-great grandmother
Julia M. [Potter] Rice: my great-great grandmother married to Gilbert
Francis J. Rice: my great grandfather
Edward P. Rice: his brother
Minerva Hart [Potter] Stuart: Julia G Rice’s sister. (The reason the Potters moved to Logansport)

There is much to tell of each of these individuals, there failures and their successes, their personalities, their way of thinking.  After my stay in Logansport, we have become even better acquainted, they and I. Thus many more stories to write. 

A particular moving moment for me, which only avid and peculiar genealogists can understand, was standing by the grave of Minerva Stuart.  Knowing that on this very same small plot of soil, on an August afternoon in 1846, where I was now standing, stood much of my ancestral family. 

Twenty five year old Minerva had just died of complications in childbirth and now her grieving family watched as she was laid to rest. The very place where I now stood.  Minerva’s mother and sister. Her husband and two small children. And her extended family including Gilbert, Elihu, and Benjamin.  On these very grounds stood my historical family with whom I have lived for 40 years. 

My imagination evolved into feelings, not tears which sometimes occur, but mixed feelings of the end of time, and the continuance of time.

Today, on my last day in Logansport, likely never to return, I will visit the grave of Minerva one more time.  For here lie also the rest of the family, or at least many of them. Anselm Potter.  Lucretia and Gilbert Rice. Benjamin Spencer and his wife Clarissa. And of course Minerva and her son Seldon.  I will say goodbye, but not really, for their stories remain to be told. Maybe even a tear will be shed, not because of them, but because their stones remind me that time ends. And, of course, continues.  

Starting on the upper right, the two “black” stones. The first Lucretia, the other Gilbert. Behind these, a tall white stone is for Benjamin Spencer and his wife Clarissa. The tall white stone in the foreground is for Minerva and her son Seldon. On the immediate left, lying barely visible on the ground are the remains of the stone for Anselm Potter.  True examples of the end of time, and yet, a continuance of the same.  With the stories I write, their lives might be remembered.