It’s a gorgeous June summer day, light breezes are floating by, the temperature is in the low 80s, and, wonder of all wonders, you check your calendar to find that nothing — I mean nothing — is marked on your must-do list.
How could that be? Oh, my. Let’s embrace this day, a rare commodity in a fast-paced senior’s world full of volunteer commitments.
What could a historian choose to do? Hmm. Perhaps the selection of visiting a cemetery might not be your first choice, but it’s the one peaceful place that is steeped in an unbelievable amount of history, and all with no entry fee.
I feel a certain reverence walking around a cemetery, maybe a slight sadness but more a thankfulness for the lives well lived. Of course, there is much evidence of tragedy, too, the lives cut short due to accidents, the graves of young children stricken with diseases that ran rampant decades ago or even in modern times, inexplicable sudden deaths from obscure illnesses.
Many people have told me about their fear of cemeteries. They find the space somewhat spooky, eerie even. I understand that to a point, but I feel this can be overcome by spending just a half-hour walking, reading and reflecting.
In the 1980s, I created a cemetery study for my Grade 7 history class of Goodfellow Public School students. It was early November. Armed with a clipboard, a pen and two sheets of open-ended questions, the 50-plus students dispersed in St. James Cemetery, Stroud. After two hours of searching, consulting, and sketching, many facts and school subject matter had been covered. Math — Who are the oldest and youngest buried here? Phys-ed — How far did you travel back and forth through the two-and-a-half acres searching for answers? Art — Sketch the tombstone symbol you found most fascinating. Literature — Record two verses or quotes that have an impact on you, and list five surnames with which you are familiar.
While debriefing with the group, I can honestly say this activity changed the perspective of many of these 12- and 13-year-olds, bringing heightened respect and awareness to the significance of this well-maintained burial ground.
You might ask what distinguishes a graveyard from a cemetery. A graveyard is usually pretty small and located near a church. These spaces grew out of necessity as people died. There’s no real planning; they just spread out in whatever direction the surroundings and the landscape allow. This is how the first burials in Stroud occurred. We have identified two little girls, the Gimby sisters, were buried long ago, in the early 1840s, and quite nearby was the first wooden church.
A cemetery, on the other hand, is a pre-planned location. It is designed, plots are set out on grids, and usually landscaped carefully with an eye toward natural esthetics.
Just check out the 2020 Innisfil Review if you wish to delve into the stories behind the Innisfil cemeteries. You will find it fascinating as details about the Belle Ewart pioneer protestant graveyard created in the 1850s are shared. It was paid for by the lumber mill owners. Millions of feet of lumber were shipped all over Lake Simcoe, and with this lively industry came deaths.
On Saturday, June 15, the Innisfil Historical Society will spend part of its Out and About morning at Sixth Line Cemetery. Established in the 1840s on land given by the Allan family, the cemetery contains a handsome cairn created in 1932 to honour the Dalhousie settlers, who, some 100 years before, left unproductive farms in Lanark County, travelling more than 300 kilometres to make Innisfil their home.
Care to join us? Kindly meet at 9:30 a.m. sharp in the southwest corner of the Innisfil YMCA parking lot, where the complete itinerary will be revealed. Pre-register ahead if you like by calling 705-436-2578.
