Resting in Peace

September 29, 2013

On the same day I photographed the tree, the silos, and the old house, I saw a sign that said Canfield Cemetery, and a place to pull off the road. I did not see the cemetery until I walked about two city blocks’ length down a mown area, and there it was, surrounded by a hedge and woods. Many people named Canfield were buried there, including the wife of C.C. Canfield, Katharine Waye, who was buried with her infant child in 1903 when she was 16. Leeman Canfield Denton was of special interest to me because he seems to have died while he was a student at Oberlin College, where I used to work. Here’s what is written on his tombstone: “Leeman Canfield Denton, son of G.G. and S.E. Denton, died Dec. 16, 1882, aged 21 Y, 15 D. Member of Class 84 Oberlin College, an able scholar. A faithful student, in him Oberlin lost a noble son. In him she gained a noble example.”

Note of October 7, 2013: I found a map and some information about some of the people buried in the Canfield Cemetery (and corrected the initials of Leeman Canfield Denton’s father).  I also found Denton’s obituary in the January 6, 1883, edition of the Oberlin College student newspaper, the Oberlin Review. Scroll down 11 pages in the Review to read it.  Three pages into this edition of the Review is a memorial poem about Denton, and on the same and subsequent pages an oration about Horace Greeley that Denton wrote but didn’t finish or live long enough to deliver. I found all the writing syrupy, but I wonder if people living then actually had more sentimental yet sincere feelings than people living today do. I had the same thought when I read many of the tombstones in the Canfield Cemetery.  Did people in 1883 speak and write in a convention that exaggerated their true feelings? Or do we care less about each other now?