I was packing the truck this morning when Mitch called so say that, "Oh by the way, we have a couple of backsplashes that we can do this week..." Me, "Oh by the way, I'm leaving town, you said that we have no work and I took you at your word..."
Off to a boring drive down south through Indiana. I dread this part of the trip as I have made this drive so many times in the past. Just south of Merrillville on I65 there was a large billboard on the side of the road that read in all caps; HELL IS REAL! Driving on 65 I couldn't agree more, but I don't think that was the intended message.
The goal for today is to visit the farm where my Great, Great grandfather, Michael Radspinner settled in 1840 upon emigrating to the USA from Germany. My main tool for this adventure is the genealogy of the Radspinner family written by W. A. Radspinner. This combined with Google searches lets me get a pretty good idea of the farm's location. I also have in my family's memorabilia, the original deed or land grant to the farm with a readable legal description. So I have a pretty good idea as to the general location, but am shy on present day specifics.
I arrived in Dillsboro after 5 or so mind numbing hours of driving. It's hot, 95 and sunny. Glad to start exploring. First I took a cruise through town, not much to see, didn't expect much for that matter. Now it's time to start zeroing in. I found Station Hollow Road which took me steeply down into the South Hogan Creek valley. By all reckoning, the farm's southern boundary was along the creek. Following the creek road for several miles yielded nothing that stood out to me, so I turned back and retraced my way back to where Hogan's Creek Rd. intersected Long Branch Rd. Took Long Branch up and out of the north side of the valley, where I came across several farms cleared on the bluff top. W.A.'s account describes stone walls built by Michael and sons, saw nothing of the sort. But his work also states that the Radspinner children went to Long Branch school ( which was already gone at the time of his writing in 1970). So, by the lack of any other roads through the area, and going on the other information that I had on hand, I'm sure that I was in the immediate location of the farm, just don't have anything concrete that I can use to state that this is the definitive spot.
Next mission was to find the family grave site. W.A.'s account says that Michael, his wife and 2 children are buried in the Mt. Tabor Church cemetery just a coupe of miles east of Dillsboro. Well the church was easy enough to find and the cemetery is right next to the church. Now the Mt. Tabor Church seems to be in fine repair, but the cemetery is in sad shape. the gravestones are all old and badly weathered, many unreadable. Quite a few broken markers are piled in a heap. It's clear that it has been a long time since anyone cared for this place. After looking through all of the markers, I didn't find any Radspinners. But I did notice another graveyard a little ways south when I turned in to the church lot.
So I headed over there to see what I might find. This was a bit more promising, most of the stones could be read, some were pretty new. W.A. states that "They are buried in the new part of the Mt. Tabor church cemetery between their two children born on the farm, all facing east, as was the custom, to see the sunrise first and to be the first to arise on judgement day". Well most of the lot was arranged in a general east facing direction, but as I made my way from grave to grave, no Radspinners. Until the last set that I came to, there it was, Rebecca Radspinner's marker laying over flat in the grass and next to it a smaller stone, also laying over and partly buried. I could make out enough of that one to see that it was a Radspinner too, probably Michael's.
Feeling flushed with success and flushed with the heat, it was time to move on and find my hotel for the night in Lawrenceburg. I was looking forward to a nice dinner, I had spotted a place on Yelp that looked real promising. So after cleaning up at the hotel, I head out to find that the place is closed Tuesdays. Arrgh. I settled for a mediocre Mexican joint instead, notable only for the sternest, most unfriendly waitress ever, I mean she had to have practiced to get that mean... The food kind of sucked and I've already spoken of the Mexican Gestapo Princess, but it still beat some fast food chain rubbish or worse yet a pizza in the motel room. I'll survive...
Tomorrow I continue my travel east to Aberdeen Ohio, founded by early Ellis ancestors.
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