Just a few crosses that I placed at graves this year in memory of my loved ones on Memorial Day.







I love podcasts. I listen at night before sleeping, I use podcasts to meditate,or when I walk the dog. I like stories about everyday life, stories about history, stories about overcoming obstacles.
I recently listened to a podcast from Wayland Media. The name of the podcast is NOBLE. Noble is a true story about a creamatory in Noble County, Georgia. I originally thought it might be a chance to learn about the industry of creamation but I learned so much more than I expected.
This true story takes one through every emotion known to humans. At first you are shocked and disgusted, then you find compassion and understanding, and finally possible redemption and forgiveness for being human. The link below is for anyone brave enough to listen with an open mind.
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/noble/id1757686789

I thought for black history month I might present some of the black segregated cemeteries and why they are hard to find.

This is 1440 Forest Ave. in Staten Island New York. This is where an estimated 1000 people of color have been buried. Only 50 of the actual graves have been recorded but none of the graves have been moved.

This slave and free folks cemetery was owned by the Second Asbury African Methodist Episcopal Church. The cemetery was made up of homemade wood crosses and stones that would mark a grave. The church was burned down by vandals in the late 1800s and the remains wood from the church was taken piece by piece. Eventually the graves were vandalized and one would be hard pressed to recognize it as a cemetery by 1920. The last person buried within the cemetery was in 1916. Perhaps you know of a cemetery with people buried in the 1800s that is still marked s a cemetery?
Along come some wealthy white land developers which tell the city that the land can’t be tax exempt because it’s not a cemetery, to them it didn’t look like one. The white city leaders agree and the land has a new tax debt of $11,000.00 that the board of the church did not receive until after the tax sale of the land happened.
The owners gave a donation to the Negro College Fund saying they had no idea it was a cemetery. Of course this happened after buildings were placed there. Ownership would change over the years but never any mention of remains dug up for which there had to be some. A strip mall was built by the third set of owners but when approached they refused a monument to mark the history of the cemetery. A plaque was finally put up but has since been removed.
Unfortunately there are very few records of slave burials or free folks of color burial records due to disrespect of others, land sold and bought with graves on the land. People of color didn’t own land and wouldn’t for another sixty plus years. They had no bargaining power over their own ancestors graves or their own deaths for that matter. That history and that knowledge of who came before them had been destroyed forever.


The Victorian Age was the period of 1860-1902. This historical time was named after Queen Victoria. In America this was time before the industrial boom and after the Civil War.
Queen Victoria mourned her husband Prince Albert for over 20 years and the Civil War created nationwide grief and mourning rings became a part of grief fashion. It was expected that a woman would were black when in mourning for two years with the loss of a husband, parents were one year, and the death of a child was usually a year of black clothing.
Along with the black clothing black jewelry was also worn. Mourning jewelry was advertised as such and all necklaces, bracelets, and pins were black. Mourning rings were more personal than most mourning jewelry in that it would be engraved with the date of death, a small lock of hair would be incorporated into the ring, forget me nots, doves, or hearts were often themes of these rings.
Mourning rings made a short comeback in the late 1930s and early 1940s. Today they aren’t referred to as mourning rings but often people choose to have their loved ones ashes added to a creation which can include a ring, necklace, bracelet, and almost anything else you can imagine.


This article is not a long read, or listen (both in the download above). No matter your opinion on roadside memorials, I had never taken a side, the words are meaningfully from a different point of view.
Community Viewpoint: Honor the roadside memorials
As I write this, with about one week left in February, some trees, bushes and daffodils have already begun to bloom around Danville.
— Read on godanriver.com/content/tncms/live/
We have a “cowtown” museum in the city I live. The museum has building g duplicates of the original city as it stood in the late 1890s. You can walk into each store , shop, house, or farm as it stood over 100 years ago. It’s what I would call an interactive museum. I really enjoy Cowtown and they always hold interesting historical events.
Like any museum Cowtown is a living , growing learning experience. I have been to Cowtown many, many times in my years of living in the city I was born and grew up in. I have never noticed the undertaker business until last week. Cowtown has about 50+ buildings and recreations on their grounds and I have never noticed the undertaker before. Below are some pictures I took that shows how death was treated in the years after the Civil War.








I started making my crosses over 20 years ago. I lost most of my childhood family and I needed to process my grief. These crosses came to me one night while I was lying in bed. It wasn’t until ten years later that my daughters would convince me that others would also like my crosses. And the rest as they say is history, no it’s my life.
My youngest brother was born on Thanksgiving Day in 1962. My mother would make him a pumpkin pie every year for his birthday. She said it was his favorite but I think it was her way of paying him back for the Thanksgiving she missed in 1962. My brother would celebrate his first birthday with pumpkin pie of course but it was not a happy celebration as that was the day that President Kennedy was shot and died of his injuries.

My brother would die on New Years Eve of 1999, yet another holiday that would not be celebrated for years following his death. I always like to make something special for his grave celebrating his life, his birthday. His favorite color was orange and so it is very easy to decorate his grave for Fall. This year I decided to break from this tradition and decorate his grave with a bright green and yellow wreath I made. The wreath is thick enough and just heavy enough to be held by his vase alone. Very cheerful, he was a very cheerful kid.
Like all of the cemeteries I will be posting, Roll cemetery , once way outside the city limits, is well within the city limits of Haysville, KS. Now Haysville KS is butt up against Wichita KS. You don’t realize you have left one and entered the other. I have blogged before my curiosity comes from my business , content for this blog, and the YouTube channel Sidestep Adventures. Kansas doesn’t have as long of a history as the state of Georgia which is where Sidestep Adventures takes place, but the history can be found in its small country cemeteries. This is Roll Cemetery and the Roll family is buried within. Family cemeteries were very common in the 1800s to early 1900s and Roll Cemetery displays that history well.

Like the others I have posted Roll Cemetery has a beautiful handcrafted entrance and is well cared for. The fence came years later to keep others out and to mark the area which is designated as cemetery.


Roll cemetery is on about an acre of land but runs along the side the dirt road and it’s length is greater than it’s width.

March, April, and May are busy months for me as are the holidays. My customers are loyal and kind. All of my family are buried in small country cemeteries or Catholic cemeteries. I realize that some of the larger corporate cemeteries have strict rules on what you can or can’t place on graves. There are cemeteries that have timelines stating when and how long grave decorations can remain on a grave. Here are some pictures of my husband’s family graves this Memorial holiday.

Like every state in the union Kansas has many small Cemeteries. Mount Zion is one such cemetery. This quiet little piece of green earth is along highway 160 and almost appears as a highway rest stop. Some of the earliest buried there are from the 1800’s with the latest burial in 2020. Mount Zion was once referred to as the Kellogg Cemetery. I can only assume that the cemetery sits on land that was once owned by the Kellogg family. There are four Kellogg family members laid to rest there in the late 1800s and early 1900s. When you visit this cemetery of roughly 200 souls on Find A Grave you will notice two things; one the family names are repetitive and very few died of old age. The Hubbard family have 7 children all under the age of 17 buried there, all with different dates and years of death. The Hubbard parents and extended family are not laid to rest there, which makes one wonder if they had too much of the Kansas prairie and left for a better life and less painful memories.

The weather has been warmer and my walks have been longer. I live in a neighborhood that has parks, sidewalks, and friendly neighbors. I ran into a neighbor that I heard had lost his wife in 2020 , but I had not had the chance to tell him personally how sorry I was. His booming voice called me over and I told him how sorry I was to hear of his wife’s passing. He and his wife would walk in good weather even after hip and knee replacements. His voice started to break as he talked about her. My heart broke as I listened. He explained that the “virus took her”. I finished my walk and began to think about everything he had said. This couple was not young but they took good care of each other. They got their flu shots, pneumonia shots, and went to the doctor annually. I thought even beyond his loss and about the total loss of life to COVID. To date 500,000.00 people have died of COVID in the United States. If you consider for one moment that each life lost affects 10 other people spiritually, emotionally, and financially then that total comes to 5 Million. Five million + souls walking around in 2020 trying to understand what happened. Be kind people, it was a very hard year.


I must start by telling you that I am so grateful for my following of customers. Just the thought of someone understanding what I do and why while meeting their needs is the best feeling in the world.
One of my customers wrote me a message some time ago and I have not forgotten his words since.
You might like to hear that I took the orange cross to the plot of ground that was once the house where my mother was born, in East Baltimore, 101 years ago, on her birthday this past August. It was a fine and fitting memorial to her and my aunts and grand parents, in Orioles territory. Doubtless many noticed and admired it on that green space walk way yet no one bothered it during the entire week that I was there.
I’m one of those people that notice my surroundings possibly more than others but I have always enjoyed the strange and unique world we live in.. Have you ever seen something outside and wondered why it was there? Maybe it was just one shoe in the middle of the road, or a ribbon tied around a pole, a hat in a tree, or a bunch of balloons floating by?
We may not always know the reason something is were it is but by just taking note we have become one piece of someone’s small patch in time, part of a small remembrance.
I decided to become part of his story and created this cross for him as a gift of gratitude.

If you are a mother then you are part of a very special group of people. Only mother’s carry their children inside their body for nine months before giving birth. It’s a special wonder to be part of that group. Being a mother is a job I took very seriously. To teach and shape the minds of little humans is a huge responsibility.
There’s another group of mothers that no mother wants to be a part of. The group I refer to is mothers who have lost a child. When I was raising my children I knew women who had lost their infants, toddlers, or teenagers. Our hearts would break to hear about the death of a child we knew. Deep down we would not admit it but we feared the thought of being a member of that group. Some mothers would avoid another mother after her loss as if her grief would rub off.
I saw this happen to my own mother when my oldest brother died at age 24. I was only 19 and not yet a mother myself. I didn’t understand her grief until I became a mom myself and discovered that love. I do remember others avoiding her. I guess they just weren’t sure what to say or do. I do remember people telling her things that I’m sure they thought were helpful but they couldn’t possibly understand her pain. These mothers don’t need you to understand their pain but they need to know you remember their child. My mother said that everyone not wanting to talk about my brother hurt more than the people who just avoided her as if her loss would “rub off on them”.
I have been amazed by the women I have known that have suffered the loss of a child. These women are fierce and their love is forever. Their child is no longer on this earth but their love is far beyond what we can see or understand in this life.
I met one of these amazing fierce loving moms recently – Maria’s mom.
Maria’s mom will celebrate every holiday, every family triumph , every family birthday with Maria.
Maria lives forever in her mind and her heart.
Their love is forever.

Happy Mothers Day Tiffany!
