We were running early on our trip to Atoka on Saturday so I had my husband pull into Boggy Depot so we could stop at the cemetery. I now think it's worthwhile to revisit places that I have posted about before because I can look at how my photography has evolved over the years. In June of 2010 I visited Boggy Depot Cemetery for the first time. I did come home with some of the same shots of the same stones, so what caught my eye then, still catches my eye about this very old place that was once Indian Territory.
But I can share a new perspective tonight.
I love the trees over this cemetery.
I apparently was interested in the final resting place of C.W. Flint who was born in 1812 during my last visit too.
My husband joined me in taking in the names of these people who left our earthly realm so long ago. It is good to read the names of people who are gone. Just reading their name seems to bring peace that perhaps someday our names will be read in a cemetery and we will be remembered.
Names hand scratched into stone. What we don't think about is these historic cemeteries were probably also once filled with wooden crosses or other types of markers for those who couldn't afford the luxury of a name engraved in stone.
I don't think people who haven't spent time walking these old, abandoned, cemeteries realize how so many of the graves are those of beloved children and infants. In this age of antibiotics I see the heartache and confusion in the news when a child passes away from strep throat or the flu. The measles outbreak is a wake up call for the importance of vaccination. If parents spent time wandering old cemeteries they would see that they aren't filled with the elderly, they are filled with children. Sad, little lambs gracing the grief of a hundred years ago.
When I posted the photo of these old graves a friend who lives in New York State mentioned how the stones were younger than her early 19th century home. It is fascinating in how your region affects your perception of age.
Boggy Depot was a very busy town in Indian Territory. Boggy Depot was a town in between Ft Smith, Arkansas and Fort Washita which was closer to Madill and Tishomingo. During the Civil War it was a Confederate Supply Depot, which my Great Great Uncle was stationed at briefly.
It is humbling as a human being to realize that someday this will be us.
The items of trade that came to Indian Territory were the stones and items like this fencing, this was before the time of the railroads.
The tribes saved Boggy Depot park a few years ago. I think tribal sovereignty is a wonderful thing that allowed this historic place to be taken from the state and placed into trust in the hands of the Chickasaw Nation.
I found this interesting blog talking about experiencing a bit of the supernatural here at Boggy Depot Cemetery. Which I don't usually "sense" anything in a cemetery, if anything cemeteries are extremely peaceful places. The forgotten ones make me sad, but only because the people whose bodies are forever at rest there - have been forgotten by their loved ones or their entire families are gone now.
Oh here is a Bigfoot story! Which is funny we were out driving around to do some night photography and this large black animal (clearly furry) darted across the road. I'm saying it was just a stray dog on the loose - but it seemed huge.
One more of the impressive trees that loom over this antiquated cemetery.