Eight score and nine years ago...

Eight score and nine years ago, some of my forefathers left Belgrave Gate, Leicester, England and landed in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Others came over about the same time from County Antrim, Ireland, also to Philadelphia, where at least one of them made Steton Hats and one died in tragic train accident while those that remained entered the insurance business.

Some of the other forefathers came earlier - my mother's fathers family came over from England on the Neptune (1617) and the Gift (1619), settling in the Hampton Roads area of Virginia. From there, they slowly migrated west, going with Daniel Boone into Kentucky and later into Oklahoma.

Some came a little later, my mother's mother's father came over to Boston from Paisley, Scotland where fate would bring a young sailor from Oklahoma, enlisted during WWI, to his door asking for his daughter's hand in marriage.

Recently, I've been doing a bit of retrospective thinking, I don't know if it was because my last birthday made me feel old, or because I was alone on Thanksgiving Day with the family out of town, or because I've not been feeling my usually chipper self. Perhaps, it is because I have no children, that I am looking back into the past and not forward into the future?

At any rate, I've researched the family tree, looking for ... something.

169 years ago, my 4-greats-grandfather Joseph Mousley, entered this country. He married Sarah Elizabeth Hose on Christmas Day, 1826 in St. Margaret's Church, Leicester in a joint wedding with Sarah's brother Edward Hose and his bride Mary (Allen). Joseph and Sarah had ten children, three of which died before reaching the age of two and the last three were born in America.

I've sat and pondered what made him pull up stakes and move at the age of 38? Was his entire family enthusiastic about the move? What did nine year old Charles (my 3-greats-grandfather) think of the "great adventure"?

They settled at 1547 Germantown Avenue and Joseph went into business as a cordwainer (shoemaker) and shoe salesman. In a few years, Joseph owned the entire block and the courtyard alley was known as Mousley Street. Joseph retired about 1878 and was succeeded by his youngest son Joseph William.

Joseph passed away July, 1883 and his wife followed him in January, 1888. They were buried in Odd Fellows Cemetery, Diamond and 24th Street, Philadelphia. I went to find his grave and... the cemetery no longer exists.

I discovered, via the Internet, the following:

"Monument Cemetery, the second rural cemetery in Philadelphia, was founded in 1837 on North Broad Street, across from Temple University. In the 1950s, it fell victim to the school's need for parking lots. Thousands of those interred there were transferred to a mass grave in the suburbs. Their monuments were dumped into the Delaware River, where they are still visible today.

Other vanished cemeteries include Glenwood at Ridge Avenue and 27th Street, which gave way to the Philadelphia Housing Authority's first housing project in the 1930s; The original Odd Fellows at Diamond and 24th Streets, displaced for the Raymond Rosen towers (ed. note: a failed urban public housing effort); and Franklin Cemetery in Kensington, whose 8,000 bodies disappeared in the 1940s as part of a political swindle gone bad."

Further investigation lead me to Lawnview Cemetery, in Rockledge, PA, whose website states, "There are two Philadelphia Cemeteries which were closed and relocated to Lawnview Cemetery. In 1951, the original Odd Fellows' Cemetery was closed and the 65,000 bodies interred there were re-interred at Lawnview. When Monument Cemetery was closed in 1955, all 26,000 bodies were also re-interred at Lawnview."

I found many of my Philadelphia relatives had been buried in Glenwood, Franklin, and Monument cemeteries as well as the original Odd Fellows cemetery. So, many of them were dug up in the 1950's and reburied in Lawnview without their gravestones.


The office told me my 4-great grandparents, Joseph and Sarah, were re-buried in the Norris Lawn area, Section 14, Grave number 62 and drew an "x" on a map on the rough location.


Somewhere - in the shadow of an ancient oak tree, lie the unmarked remains of my great-great-great-great grandparents, who I suppose, came to this country with high hopes, much excitement, and a dream for a brighter future... and while unmarked, are not forgotten -


Somehow, I think my forefather might of liked knowing there was a small lane lined with big ol' oak trees nearby - and this one, in particular, which shades his grave... I gave it a big hug.

As I was leaving the cemetery, something caught my eye... I'll write about that later...