While sorting through some family pictures to scan them I ran across this one. The first thing that went through my mind was the opening line from an old Jim Croce song "You knew that it was bound to happen, just a matter of time".
I found the home cemetery of a lot of the family down in the hills and hollers of Kentucky, at a little town called Raywick. Back in the old days you couldn't of swung a dead cat without hitting one of your kinfolk and there are still a few down there, they own and run the bar and grill just across the street from the church.
I'm sure that if you've done enough family research this has happened to you. You're strolling along taking notes and pictures when all of a sudden you are face-to-face with your own name on a tombstone. I don know about you, but my first reaction was "My Goodness, will you look at that!" (or words close to those).
This is a fair sized Catholic cemetery where most of the family that died down there are buried, for the record, his wife is in the Methodist cemetery about a mile away. Since she wasn't Catholic she had to go elsewhere. His parents are just to the left and just past them are two empty spots, where I think my GGG Grandfather and his wife are.
This gentleman is my Great Grand Uncle, that he has the same name that I do was pretty neat, however the neater thing is: his birthday is Nov 22, 1851, mine is May 22, 1951, just under 100 years apart.
He died at the age of 72 of a heart attack on a wagon load of corn, I've decided when I get 72 I'm going to stay away from farm wagons and corn.