A project that I began a couple of years ago has been making
photographs of the old churches in my East Tennessee County. Sometimes while I’m photographing the church I
also wander into the local graveyard. Looking at the dates, names, and epitaphs on
the tombstones makes for interesting reading and speculation about the lives of
the men and women long deceased and mostly forgotten.
On one of my
searches for a particular church, I found that it was no longer standing. The
church building was long gone, only the foundation and entry stepping stones
remain to mark its location. But just
down the road, Caldwell Cemetery remains with perhaps 95 or so grave
markers. Although worn, covered with
lichen and moss, the markers still stand; giving testimony to the individuals
whose bodies are buried in that place.
There were several grave markers with epitaphs, but I was struck by one
epitaph in particular, “She hath done what she could”
inscribed on the headstones of two women.
As a young boy I was always encouraged to “do the best I could” on any task that was mine to do. Whether it was homework, a household chore,
or building a model airplane, I was always encouraged to “do your best.” It seemed odd
that someone would inscribe on these headstones “doing what they could”
rather than “doing the best” they
could.
One of these
headstones belonged to Mary E. Caldwell’s,
born July 18, 1846, died May 19, 1911, just two months short of age 65. In a follow-up visit to the County Archives I
found that Mary and her husband had an adopted son, William Fellows, who was
reported as age six in the 1880 Census. No additional records for the son were found,
so it is doubtful the child lived to maturity.
This was further indicated by Samuel’s Last Will & Testament, dated March 1892, which makes no mention
of his adopted son. Mary was fourteen years
younger than her husband and outlived him by fourteen years.
Just a short
distance from Mary’s grave, I found the marker of Georgia D. Caldwell, born about twenty-two years after Mary. Georgia was born June 27, 1868, died on
February 8, 1899, not quite thirty-one years old. Both women were married, but the available records
indicate that neither had any natural children.
As I looked at the 95 graves in the cemetery that day I wondered, “What prompted the common epitaph on these
two women’s grave stones?”
Both women lived
in the same east Tennessee community where life and events moved slowly in the
mid to late 1800’s. It is hard for me to
imagine, but while these two women were “keeping
house” and their husbands were “farmers;”
Billy the Kid, Doc Holliday, and Wyatt Earp were “toting their guns” and alive
in the West. As these two women used
candles and oil lamps to light their homes, Thomas Edison was putting
electricity into homes in New York City and the Brooklyn Bridge was
completed. About the time Mary turned 40
and Georgia turned 20, The Statue of Liberty, the Eiffel Tower and the Washing
Monument were all completed. At the same
time, George Eastman was developing his photographic film and box camera. During the adult lives of these women, many things
were happening in America and the world, but these two women were living out
their daily lives in anonymity. There are
no records to show their contributions or any unique life achievements.
The most
definitive descriptor for Mary is from the 1880 census when she was age 33 and
“keeping house.” The records show that Mary’s husband
apparently had much respect and confidence in her abilities. His Last Will & Testament states, “And having full confidence in my beloved
wife, I do hereby nominate and appoint her to be the Executor of this my Last
Will & Testament and she shall administer it without bond or liability.”
I found even less
information on Georgia. She died before
the 1900 Federal Census, so there is
nothing to describe her except from the 1880
Census where she was listed as the 12 year old “daughter” of Alax Caldwell, the youngest of four children. Her adult life has no definitive descriptors.
It seems
improbable for that time period, when families tended to be large, that neither woman had natural
born children. Even Mary’s adopted son
apparently did not survive, thus there is no legacy that children often afford a family. Apparently longevity made no significant
impact on their lives in the end. Mary lived
over twice as many years as Georgia, but both have the same simple epitaph, “She hath done what she could.”
As citizens of
this world, most of us live out our lives rather obscurely. Our realm of influence is limited by our
time, our travel, our engagement with others and the choices and decision we
make along this life journey. Most
likely our influence primarily impacts our family; spouse, children and
extended family members. If we are
engaged in the community through civic, church or business endeavors our circle
of influence may widen a bit. Some few
reach out even further and touch a nation or the world, but only a select few
are called or gifted enough to be a Billy Graham, a Thomas Edison, a Jonas Salk
or a Bill Gates. If most of us were a stone or pebble, we would
make a small splash, sending out little ripples in the pond of life.
Although most of
us are a small fish in a big pond, I think we ought to live so our own epitaph could
at least be somewhat like that of Mary and Georgia.
Think about what their epitaph really says! “She
hath done” signifies
accomplishment and completion. It does
not say she “tried” to do something,
but “she hath done” it. “What she could” implies that she did
the things at hand, the things available, the things that were needed, things
that required attention where she happened to be, the things within her
abilities to do. I imagine that both
women were pragmatic, doing little dreaming about “what might be” or “what could
have been.” Rather, I suspect they focused
on what they could do in the moment with what they had.
Mary's gravestone
No comments:
Post a Comment