Tombstone Tuesday

This stone is located in the Bean Family Cemetery located on Potts Creek, near the tiny hamlet of Waiteville, in Monroe County, West Virginia.

You can clearly see the old "C" carved into the stone marking the beginning of the name. And there appears to be a curved letter at the end of the line that may be an "S".

We are positive of 8 individuals who are buried here. But recently when I visited the little cemetery in the woods, I located 10 stones. None of which appear to have any markings on them.

Or so we thought. Until the camera caught more than the naked eye! As you can see above, the letter "C" is definitely there!

The problem is that of the 8 known individuals buried here, none of them have a "C" beginning their name!

I've searched through local burial records and death records, trying to locate who this individual may have been. But I have been unable to find who this is, so far.

This tiny little cemetery has not had a burial since 1889.

Tombstone Tuesday

Pauline Bean

1902 - 1925

Pauline Bean was the third born child of John Monroe Bean and Blanche Uremia Crosier Bean.

During her pregnancy with Pauline, Blanche developed tuberculosis. She died less than four months after Pauline's birth. John was left with 3 small children to raise, the oldest being only 3 weeks from her sixth birthday. John made one of the hardest decisions of his life. He sent his baby to live with his brother, Sam, and his wife Mattie [Martha].

In 1907 John married Ada Burdette. And the children were reunited. John and Ada also began to have children together. But it was obvious something wasn't right with Pauline. She seemed sickly at times. At others, she was perfectly well!

Influenced by the great revivals running through the area, Pauline enrolled in God's Bible School in Cincinnatti, Ohio in 1922 at the age of 20. She attended until 1924 when illness forced her to withdraw.

Pauline's body became covered in huge boil-like lesions, as well as a deep-rattling cough consuming her energy and strength.

Pauline was so attached to her baby sister, Eloise, who was born in October 1923, that she'd lie with her, and sleep with her at night. She loved that baby so!

Unfortunately, Pauline's illness was discovered for its true nature too late. By the time it was diagnosed as tuberculosis, little Eloise had contracted it as well. She died on February 14, 1925. She is buried in the Carmel Cemetery in Gap Mills, West Virginia.

Pauline was devestated. Her body wracked with pain from the boils, she would lie and cry. Her step-mother, Ada, devestated with the loss of a son, Max, in 1923 from whooping cough, and now with the loss of little Eloise, had to set her own grief aside and care for Pauline. And she did so with such love and tenderness. I've been given accounts by several individuals, family and non-family members, of how Ada would take Pauline onto her lap as if she were a child and rock her like an infant, trying to soothe her pain and comfort her.

Pauline's suffering ended on June 27th, 1925, just four months after the loss of little Eloise. She was laid to rest right beside the baby sister she loved so much.

Pauline was my Dad's half-sister.

In 1929, just 5-days after giving birth to a baby boy, Ada died from toxemia. She and John had had 9 children together. John was once again left with a newborn infant, and other children dependent upon him. His baby boy was sent to Ada's sister and her husband to raise.

In 1935 John married Mary Faudree. My grandmother. She and John had 3 sons together, the oldest of which was my Dad.

Pauline was a special individual. One of those rare people who are not forgotten, and whose memory only enhances with time. Her family reveres that memory to this very day, even though there are only 2 family members left living who actually knew her. They were only 11 and 8 when she died.

Every year, Dad and I attend to Pauline's grave. We clean the stone, place flowers, and some kind of memento upon the grave. One year we put little porcelain dolls on Pauline and Eloise's grave. One year a resin cross.

It was Pauline's deepest desire to become a missionary, like cousin Georgie Bruffey Minter, who was an acclaimed China missionary. I often wonder if Pauline knows that she achieved her dream! She has been a missionary within her own family for many, many years now. Influencing lives for the good. Can any of us ask more from our own lives?

Pauline - 1922

Tombstone Tuesday

This is the story about the cemetery and tombstones nearly forgotten in the woods. It is the story of my great-great-grandparents, William and Rachel Wiseman Bean.

The Bean Cemetery is located near the tiny hamlet of Waiteville, WV. In order to reach this little burial place, one must park their car on the edge of the one lane road and hike across a wide open field to a dense stand of trees and woods. It is here that you will find William and Rachel's final resting place.





















For over 100-years the little cemetery sat. It's tombstones slowly deteriorating and breaking away with decay and disrepair. Until 10-years ago when the family placed this new memorial tombstone for our ancestors.

We know there are several more buried here, as evidenced by the broken stones that remain.












On Sunday, August 9th, I visited this tiny little cemetery for the first time.

I photographed 10 stone markers. And I counted 11 mounds and depressions that were indicative of grave sites.

I located pieces of the old wire fence that once surrounded the cemetery, as well as the rotting fence posts that have long ago fallen over and are swiftly becoming a part of the forest floor.

The cemetery was covered in small trees that have grown there since my Dad was a boy. He recalled the open area then, with a few large trees surrounding the graves. Now trees grow right through the grave sites.

I saw deer scat, and counted 4 squirels scampering through the trees while we were there.

Standing on the hill, as I looked to the south, I could clearly see the old homestead. I could see why my great-grandparents would want to be buried here. Overlooking their beautiful log home.

No one alive today knows who is buried in which grave. And, as I have stated, the 10-grave stones that remain are worn with time and if there was ever any engraving on them, it is lost to time. Still, we do know that William and Rachel are buried here. Rachel died in November of 1856, less than a month after her daughter Nancy, both with a fever of unknown origin. Son Archibald's first wife, Amanda died in this area, and was buried here, about 1852. Daughter Emily, and her husband, Thomas, [d. 1889 and d. 1888 respectively] are also believed to be buried here. And William is buried here [d. 1864]. I can also account for 3-slaves who were buried here as well.

This is a beautiful spot.

The property has long ago left family hands, and is now owned by a hunters co-op. They will not allow us to do any more improvements on the cemetery. That includes a protective fence.

My heart breaks that one day, no one will know where this little slice of history is at. The forest will either encroach completely. Or the property sold yet again.

It is the protectiveness within me that despairs. These loved ones are my past. They are my core. And I am helpless to protect their final resting place. I despair that the family let this land slip from them.

As I stand here, breathing in the warm summer air, from this mountain side, I feel at home. So at home.

I speak to William and Rachel now. "Rest in peace. Know that your future continues with the family. We are growing. And we are stronger than ever. Rest. Rest in peace."

Bean Family Reunion

Tomorrow is our Bean Family Reunion. This reunion is held every two years. And it only lasts for an afternoon.

But I'm hoping I can change things a bit.

Tomorrow I fully intend to petition for our reunion to be held for an entire weekend beginning with our 2011 event. Lasting from Friday afternoon through Sunday afternoon.

Our little reunion is held in the mountains of West Virginia. In the very rural county of Monroe [where there is literally not a single stoplight in the entire county!]. In the very tiny hamlet of Waiteville, where there is neither store nor post office.

This once bustling community was literally carved out of a tiny valley in Virginia. Peter's Mountain is the state line for as far as it runs, except for Waiteville. Waiteville at one time was reknown for its virgin timber and mineral ore. And then shortly after 1910 that all changed. The timber was cut out. The ore ran out. And the railroad, which had been used to haul out both, tore up its tracks and left. Up until the 1970's there was a single store which also housed the little post office. Today, these individuals have their mail delivered by the Union postal carrier. And either go into New Castle or Pearisburg, Virginia, or into Union, West Virginia for their groceries. [No late night trips to grab a snack!]

But it's from this tiny place in the mountains that my heritage is layed.

About 1790 came an Irishman who had served as a Loyalist in the American Revolution. He received several land grants. One rather strange grant was for a tract of land near Waiteville known as "Stoney Creek". This is a mountainous range of land that was literally carved through the mountains thousands of years ago by the swirling waters of the creek that continues to flow through. The steep, stony walls lining this valley [more like a passage!] makes one pause and wonder why anyone would want so much land here! Perhaps at that time trapping would have been good here? Who knows.

To this Irishman and his bride were born 2 sons. John and William. And then, suddenly in February of 1804, John is placed in indenture. His father is gone. We don't know if he died or what happened to him. The same year, in September, William is placed for indenture as well.

The next year, the mother is found on the personal property list as a widow. Amount owed is listed as "nothng atall". Under possession "just her clothes and spinning wheel". And then she disappears from history.

The following year, the property on Stoney Creek is sold for back taxes.

And then, in 1813, William is released from his indenture. He has reached the age of majority. Just 2 months after that release, he marries the daughter of a prominent family within the country. The following year they have their first child. And William begins to purchase property.

William brought a suit against the former owner of his indenture, and obtained a large financial settlement. Family legend states that there was actually a 3rd brother to John and William, and his name was Roy. He was younger than William. And shortly after the 1804 indenture, Roy ran away and was never heard from again. [I've not found any record to prove this however. Many others have also searched.]

With his new found gains, William purchased even more property. By 1836, when his last child [the 13th] was born, he was considered quite the gentleman farmer, and owned over 1600 acres of land in the valley.

It is the descendants of these 13 children who meet every two years in the very same valley.

We meet the last standing school house for this community. It was here that my Dad went to school as a young boy. Just 3 rooms and a kitchen. At one point it handled grades 1-12. In its last years of function, it handled grade school only.

Our hope is to "camp out" in this remote area for our weekend long reunion in 2011.

But tomorrow, we begin at 10 a.m. and last till about 5 or so.

Of my 5 children, I had hoped for 3 to arrive. One has already let me know, they won't be there. I still have hope for the other 2. My husband, a long-haul truck driver, is doing his best to get here. We still don't know if he'll make it or not.

One cousin was due to arrive today. She phoned to say she'd missed her flight by 24-hours. A date mix up.

Another cousin called, and has to work. Another, fell in her yard and literally broke her neck! [She'll recover, but it's going to take time!] And yet another is sick. Two have health problems and can't be here. And one has moved too great a distance away for him to be able to get here [financial constraints].

Still, we're hoping for a crowd of about 75.

I am so looking forward to tomorrow! Even knowing that not everyone can be here, I am so excited! It's like the eager anticipation of a child on Christmas Eve! I can hardly wait!!!

I'll let you all know how it goes!