Checking In with the Founding Farmers

When I got home from work Matt suggested we walk across the road and inspect the cemetery. The brush has not yet sprouted and it's much easier to see what's there. We counted over 46 markers, more than we had previously discovered. Many are children, including Peter Burdick, born in the 1700's and age 18 at death, and Polly Burdick, age 12 at death. They were the children of Elisha and Lydia Burdick, who both lived until a ripe old age. There are many baby markers, we assume, because they are so small and not written on. I was told the cemetery contains triplets who were scalped by Indians. I am disappointed the cemetery was not kept up over the years. The direct descendants went bust in the Depression and left for California where they started a vineyard and were fabulously successful. The Kupris family came from Lithuania via the Bronx and have been here ever since. The cemetery is on a round wooded rise just in front of the creek. I can imagine the waking vigil kept around the body in the house where Chris Kupris lives just next door to me, and the procession across the field to the burial place. How awful it must have been for them during the brutal winters here, and to lose the young people when their manpower was sorely needed. If only they had kept some record of their hopes and dreams and challenges. I wish I owned that field - I would clear the cemetery and raise the fallen stones. They need some treatment to remove fungus on many of them. Matt showed me the tool marks on some of the monuments, so carefully and lovingly crafted from large stones. Matt lowered his head and said a prayer for them and gave thanks to the powers that be who brought us here. A strong wind was blowing the trees around and the meandering creek was rushing by, glinting in the afternoon sun. The scene was mesmerizing and moving. We found a new born lamb in the barn after walking back from the cemetery. Life goes on...