Searching for roots in a country graveyard

My brother David's research into the Kanouse family roots has unearthed a possible connection right here in McLean County, Illinois. It seems that another David Kanouse (1830-1878) and his wife Elizabeth Ann Flesher Kanouse (1831-1871) lived in the nearby town of Lexington, and are said to be buried there at Indian Field Cemetery. We're not sure how (or even whether) this 19th century David connects to our own family tree, and why Elizabeth and her children are listed in the 1860 census without David - so today my daughter and stepson joined me on a genealogical field trip in search of answers.

The Bloomington library had a book on the cemeteries of McLean county, and warned that Indian Field Cemetery was "overgrown" and not easy to find - "...at next right, turn north, park near corner, walk west through field toward grove of trees..." - and they were right. The back road meandered through farm country, taking numerous turns sharp enough to qualify as "next right," so we drove into the town, hoping to find someone who could give us directions.


Lexington is one of those quaint Midwestern towns that has you feeling like you've entered a time warp: Rod Serling about to step out from behind a tree and say "case in point: Kent Kanouse, for whom a casual excursion in search of connections became a journey into the Twilight Zone." But as luck would have it we spotted a brick building that said "Genealogy Library," and surprisingly enough for 4:30 on a Saturday afternoon, it was open.


A little old lady named Verda Gerwick met us at the door, and stepped out to talk with us (explaining that there was a reunion of some sorts going on inside). She'd been doing local genealogy research for 35 years, and when I explained that we were looking for information on David and Elizabeth Kanouse, she immediately recognized the name and went inside to retrieve a notebook. Elizabeth (nee Flesher) Kanouse, was indeed buried in Indian Field Cemetery - but her husband David was not, she said; he had gone "back" to Iowa a short time after their marriage in December 1848. Elizabeth was David's second wife - and Verda's take was that David had blown into town, married Elizabeth, and flown the coop, leaving her with his kids from the previous marriage.

Verda gave us detailed instructions on finding the cemetery, and we set back out, eventually coming to a spot that seemed to match her description. Parking off the road, we trudged a good half-mile along a grass pathway that petered off into a corn field, then forged ahead through corn stalks six feet high, towards a stand of trees that just had to be the place.





It was the cemetery all right, but it was so overgrown and neglected that only a couple of dozen tombstones remained upright amidst the clump of forest. Most of the markers were fallen over and/or buried beneath the soil, and as we kept Verda's directions in mind (the grave is near the east fence at the south end), we were mindful of her warning to watch out - "there's a rattlesnake den in there."


After fifteen or twenty minutes I was about to call it quits when Cynthia called out "found it!" Elizabeth Flesher Kanouse's grave was amidst others of the Flesher family, and I took pictures of the headstone and several surrounding ones. It was an obscure connection, but it was still moving to see the name "Kanouse" on an old stone in the middle nowhere, and the adventure of finding it was a reward in itself - a great example of how genealogy (or family history, as I like to say) can be so gratifying.

With Robin and her kids, on my 44th birthday

On Kent's 44th birthday
Originally uploaded by Snap Man

Spokane, Washington, July 12, 1991. (photo by Cynthia)

Reunited with Carol Holloway! Fittingly, the day started with an earthquake that was strong enough to wake me up, just before the alarm was set to go off. This is the start of something big! And then, at LAX, waiting to board my historic flight, I ran into Paul Braugham (of Princess Cruises), one of my favorite people. Another good omen.

And on the flight north, I told my seat-mate that I was on my way to rendezvous with a high-school sweetheart that I haven't seen in twenty-four years — and by the time the plane touched down in Spokane (after a stop in Portland), my whole section of the plane was abuzz, cheering me on as I walked down the ramp to where Carol was waiting, beaming.

Home all day, writing. Spoke to Carol (who goes by the nickname Robin these days) for forty minutes in the evening, then Bill Jervey arrived — he and I sitting up talking until 2 A.M.

Today I've been pacing the floor, trying to comprehend the wonderful thing that's happened over the past three weeks. A month ago I was feeling so depressed — unable to drive because of my DUI, feeling sick half the time because of my ulcer (which hasn't been healing as fast as it should because I'm still drinking and smoking too much), that the prospect of anything good happening in the near future (or ever) seemed dim. And the notion of ever finding romance again seemed hopeless.

But then I phoned Carol...

And now we're in love, talking sweet talk on the phone, even though we haven't seen each other in twenty-odd years! Twenty-four years since we last saw each other, at L.A.C.C.! Twenty-seven years since we last dated, in high school!

Calling Carol Holloway

In the evening, I decided to take another try at finding Carol Holloway, and phoned her great-aunt. I’d done the same last year [June 28], and learned her married name ("Lyons") and that she was living in Washington. But Lyons is a common name, and Washington D.C. is a big city, so nothing came of it.

But this time her great-aunt had more to say. Carol lived in Washington state — in Spokane — not Washington D. C., and her marriage was on the rocks. Excited, I called Spokane information, got a short list of C* Lyons entries, and on trying the second one I heard her familiar voice for the first time since the 1960s.

I had half expected her to say “Kent who?”, and figured the conversation would be friendly, but neutral — but there was unmistakable warmth in her voice, and it was as if we’d talked just yesterday. We reminisced about the days when we were dating each other, and when she asked what had happened between me and Penny, I found myself confiding more openly to her than I had with many close friends. Meanwhile, she’s separated from her husband, probably for keeps, and has three young children.

This is the best thing that’s happened since I don’t know when! But she lives a thousand miles away…