Graveyards, Copperheads, and Themiddleofnowhere, Kentucky
There I was, riding on an ATV next to someone I just met, through a cattle range in search of the unknown.
Background
The Spring 2021 semester brought a new challenge to my college career by way of a genealogy course. Our final project gave us license to create hypothetical Roots Tourism trips, by researching places that related to our personal ancestry. Every student’s project was unique because we had different backgrounds, making this course one of my favorites. One of the places that I chose for my project ended up being close enough for a summer road trip. This is that story.
In preparation for my project presentation, I researched many different parts of my ancestors’ lives. Birth records, census records, and marriage and death certificates are all public records, meaning that I had my work cut out for me. One name that stuck out to me through my paternal line was Ambrose. I found that the specific location of Ambrose’s grave was not listed in any grave registry or graveyard, only a vague location that did not seem to exist on any map. So, I set a goal to find the location of my Ancestor’s grave.
This investigation brought me to many people and businesses that I contacted through phone numbers listed online, and through word of mouth. Eventually, this led me to a local landowner, Ronald Barnes.
After explaining who I was and why I was calling, the very skeptical Ronald told me a story about how his family had owned the land for generations. He recalled how there are multiple headstones atop a hill on his cattle range, although many of the headstones were rundown and covered in thick grass. After telling him who I was looking for, exclaiming that we had the same last name, he said that the name sounded familiar. This was enough for me. I asked Ronald if he would be open to me visiting sometime in the next couple of weeks, as soon as the semester had ended. He agreed and gave me his address.
Once school ended, my friend Gail and I loaded up in an SUV and set out for 5 days of car camping and graveyard hunting.
Caveat
I know that this sounds like an unsafe situation, meeting a random person at their house having no background information whatsoever, but I felt like this was something I was meant to do. Apart from this, there were no guarantees that Ambrose’s grave would even be on the property. I was doing all of this on chance. Throughout the planning process, I kept having lingering flashbacks to Murder podcasts and Zac Efron as Ted Bundy. But, by the time we were on the road, I was set on following through with the plan despite the unknown.
The trip included many visits to different graveyards in Indiana, Kentucky, and Tennessee because we wanted to visit more than just Ambrose’s grave. This included some of my family members, along with some of Gail’s family members, but I will leave those stories for another time.
Cattle Farm
On the third day of the trip, we drove from Mammoth Cave to Themiddleofnowhere, Kentucky, and on to Ronald’s home.
As we drove through the winding, cell reception-less roads of Themiddleofnowhere, Kentucky, the rain started pouring. At this point, I began to get rather nervous about the situation I had pursued and found myself in. As we are taking turns and turns, finding ourselves deeper into Themiddleofnowhere, all of a sudden we come upon a house with an attached pole barn.
As we pulled into the gravel driveway, we saw a man in his late 50s, smoking a cigarette, awaiting our arrival. At this point, the weather is not getting any better. The gravel driveway had started to turn to mud and the sky was grey and thundering.
“Hello, are you Jill?”
“No, that is my mom’s name, she comes up on my caller ID. My name is Alissa. Thank you for letting us come”
“Sure thing. *coughs* Let’s get out of this rain.”
Ronald escorted us into the open pole barn to escape the rain. Luckily, I was not getting any bad, murdery vibes from Ronald. He was simply a slow-talking, southern, chain-smoking cattle farmer.
After a few minutes of small talk, Ronald's wife, Nancy, comes out of the house to meet us. It is then that they explain their surprises when I called, as they had never had anyone reach out about the graveyard, all the while Ronald moves on to his third cigarette.
“I ain’t ever heard of somebody doing family research in college.”
“It was a really cool class!”
It is here that we learned that Ronald’s herd was not doing well, many of the calves born did not make it to spring. Here inlayed our first conflict, as Ronald explained that he had a cow calving and was nervous to leave.
“I got a heifer out back calving. She’s one of the only pregnant cows I got this Spring”
This, plus the rain, made it seem like Ronald was not going to take my friend and me to where the graveyard was located. He explained that we should simply walk up the road to the entrance, jump the fence, and walk ¼ of a mile up the large hill, through grass that was not bush hogged, in the pouring rain, in the copperhead-infested back hills of Kentucky.
Obviously, at this point, I started using every persuasion tactic in the book to convince Ronald to take us to the supposed grave site. We did not come all the way there, risking our safety, to be turned away at the last minute.
“We left Indiana a few days ago, we are heading to Tennessee after lunch today”
“Yeah yeah, I need to keep an eye on the birthing cow”
Eventually, through small talk and persuasion, Nancy agreed to watch the birthing cow and monitor the situation while Ronald showed us the location of the graveyard. Ronald finished his 5th cigarette and started up his ATV. We then followed him in our car to the cattle range entrance, as the rain continued to pour.
Ambrose Russell
After unlocking the gate and mounting Ronald’s ATV, we were off. As we are driving, Gail and I have our eyes peeled for venomous snakes.
Now might be a good time to mention that I have known Ronald for a total of about an hour and he is now driving us into a land unknown in search of something I am still not certain even exists.
After crossing a creek and driving around a few bends, we come across a vast hill topped with a large cedar tree. It is then that something just short of magical happens. The clouds break and the afternoon sun shines through, creating a lapse in the rain and the perfect setting for the moment. As we near the tree, I see a concrete column peeking out from underneath. Donald pulls up as close as he can and says “watch where you plant your feet” as I jump off the ATV, thick grass covering my soaking wet shoes. Phone in hand, I start recording myself crouching beneath the branches of the tree when I see it, written on a bronze plaque, Ambrose Russell.
I am in absolute utter disbelief that I actually did it. After taking it all in for a minute and getting photos, I reboard the ATV and thank Ronald for his time and energy.
As we make our way back down the hill, around the bends, and over the stream, I am smiling ear to ear. We said our goodbyes to Ronald and get back in the car. As we drive past the house, we wave to Nancy and are on our way to the next adventure.
Outcome
This trip means so much to me. It gave me so many things. My friend and I became closer, I solved a mystery, I stuck to my instincts, and now have a crazy story to tell. My professor often mentioned in lectures that we would find out things about our history, good or bad, that will give us another perspective. My professor also explained that things happen, almost by magic, when researching one’s ancestry. This is definitely something that experienced, not only with Ambrose Russell but with other ancestors. I am not sure what to call or how to even explain this phenomenon. When things go perfectly, or when things are uncovered that you have been working on for months, it cannot be argued that something bigger is at play when it comes to family research. It is the connection to a past that is a part of you, but also not your own, that brings value to researching ancestry.
Thank You to my friend Gail, who was just crazy enough to come along with me on this adventure, and for so many other times throughout our friendship.