Meteors, Yates Center, Kansas
August 12, 2009

Our first scissor-tailed flycatcher of the trip, and it flies right in front of our windshield - how fun is that! And then last evening, there were three gorgeous common nighthawks darting and swooping around us while Chris was playing the keyboard outside.

We got a bit of a late start this morning, primarily because I was zonked from getting up at 3 a.m. to watch the Perseids meteor shower. By that time, the moon was high in the sky, making us unable to see the smaller meteors. Even so, we counted about 40 per hour. I also watched earlier before moonrise, which is said not to be the optimum hour, and was totally wowed with some super spectacular streakers, the kind that make you gasp and keep telling people about it afterward even though once was more than enough, especially if they saw it with you.

We’re driving through Kansas’ enchanting Flint Hills, just a relaxing back road drive traversing miles of green, green farmland, rising high enough to provide distant vistas and dropping down into rock-bluff-lined creeks shyly glimmering under dense trees. While viewing the beauty of this area, I am inclined to treat it as I would intriguing places back home, and to want to explore and hike. I come to my senses about the time I remember that: 1. It’s private property, not the vast expanses of public land that I’m accustomed to in Arizona; 2. There are chiggers and ticks (In my own dyslexic way, I sometimes think of them as tiggers and chicks) in this country, thus transforming those welcoming lush grasslands into itchy hot humid trekking sites. I have determined to be satisfied with looking, and confining my hiking to developed trails.

We have just read that this area is also known as the Bluestem Region, a major cattle feeding area because of the excellent grasslands.

What a great route we’ve chosen to get to Yates Center (Topeka is later in the day). We’ve visited Yates Center twice before on the search for our Taylor ancestors on Mom’s side of the family. The first stop was just barely that; actually, it was more of a slowdown and a drive through the cemetery without even getting out. Even at that, we saw burials of kin. The second visit was last year, when we did research in the area, but declined a survey of the burying ground because of rain, rain and more rain.

When I think back to last year’s 4.5 month sojourn, I sometimes wonder if it rained the whole time. Of course it didn’t, but I do believe there was more wet than not.

As we come into Woodson County, where Yates Center is, I spot the Toronto Wildlife Area, which looks positively intriguing. This will be a must-return when we can drive back in there for a look-see. The adjacent Toronto Lake covers a farm once owned by my g.g. grandparents, Samuel and Sarah (McKinney) Taylor, as we discovered last year when we went to track down their home. Long ago, we found that couple’s final home in Neosho, Missouri. That was very exciting; all we had was a photo of them standing in front of the house and an inscription on the back (kudos to the person who did that!) with their name and the town’s name. Photo in hand, we arrived in Neosho and started driving up and down in the thankfully-small old section. There it was, exactly like the picture; I even expected them to come to the door. The folks who did come to the door let us tour and photograph the house.

Now back to present day: we are back in Yates Center, hopefully to get the job completed this time. Too bad that the graveyard is substantially larger than my memory indicated. Too bad, also, that it’s midday on a really hot clear sunny day. Oh well, faulty memory says the Taylors’ graves are easily visible from one of the lanes crisscrossing the cemetery, so we begin our survey that we will confine to those tracks. This time, we will be able to get digital photos and have them permanently recorded.

Hmmm. . . no, they’re not over at that far side where I was so sure I would spot them. Hmmm . . . hot slogging later - we’ve found the handsome handmade masonry monument marked only as “Taylor”, and we’ve found a marker for Samuel Taylor’s brother John. Where is the other sibling, Jacob, who we know remained in Yates Center? We can’t survey the entire place or we’ll never get to Topeka, so we opt for going to the local museum, the only research place we missed in past trips, but are not hopeful.

We are met there by two of the sweetest elders a person could ever hope to encounter. We are their only customers and they aim to please. Following conversation regarding our quest, we tour their extensive collections while the director searches for our kin. I point her to who is and is not ours, and she comes through with life stuff about owning hotels, being stone masons, and where they are interred. Armed with mapped locations, we return again to the cemetery (this is all on small dirt roads trailing the trailer), get everyone photographed and get on our way. Wasn’t that easy once we knew what we were doing.

While we are sweating and slogging, my attention is repeatedly drawn to the numerous metal emblems that mark many of the graves. I’ve seen them before, even photographed them, but have never seen this quantity nor such variety before. It has come to my attention that these markers are considered items to collect; obviously, that practice would necessitate removing them from the graves they mark. I am often shocked at the irreverence displayed toward our ancestors’ burials. Finally though, it occurs to me that I can collect them myself simply by amassing photographs, so I have begun that. Being in a bit of a rush, I was unable to get pics of the entire variety at Yates Center; however, I began my collection nicely with several, including World War I veteran, Civil War veteran, World War II veteran, G.A.R. (Grand Army of the Republic), Eastern Star, Gold Star mother, and more, some of which I don’t now know just what they denote. I will have to discover if these particular markers have a specific name.

Best epitaph:
“I pray that I may live to fish until my dying day.
And when it comes to my last cast, I then most humbly pray
When in the Lord’s great landing net and peacefully asleep
That in his mercy I be judged big enough to keep.”

And now: Sara and Trinity Grace: here we come.