Tuesday, June 19, 2018

A trip to Florida.

In my last blog post, two years ago, I detailed the history of the Lewis Shank family, and mentioned in passing that I wanted very much to go to Florida and find the place where my great-great-grandmother, Mary Wenger Shank, was buried. I finally got the opportunity two months ago, in April, when my husband was sent down for a software class at Kennedy Space Center in Cocoa Beach. We added a couple of days to his scheduled time so that we could go to Disney World and also visit the little town of Bowling Green, in Hardee County, a little more than an hour south of Orlando, where I had found Mary's grave on FindaGrave.com, an extraordinarily helpful site for any family history enthusiast.

It was a gorgeous sunny day, and I felt excited as we drove past the cattle barns and citrus groves...it felt like we were going to have an adventure. I was starting this trip with a couple of misconceptions and a few questions, most of which were cleared up, and of course, a host of new questions were created. There's so much we want to ask the people who can't give us answers!

The records I had from my grandmother indicated that Mary had died, and the family had lived, in DeSoto County, just to the south of Hardee County. So I was confused as to why Mary was buried in Bowling Green. I had researched the DeSoto county seat, and closest large town, Arcadia, about 30 minutes south of Bowling Green, and planned to go there once we had located the grave. Here's a map:



I'd been in touch with one of the Bowling Green city employees ahead of time and let her know when we were coming, and she very kindly met us and showed us where the grave was located. The city cemetery used to belong to the Methodist church across the street, but at some point the church deeded it to the city, and the city maintains it. We entered at the newest end, with lots of new tombstones with colorful flowers and other decorations, and drove down to the oldest end, where the trees were large and shady and the graves were quiet.

There was Mary's grave, under a huge old tree draped with Spanish moss. The Methodist church is visible in the background.




The gravestone is a nice polished block of dark gray granite, with a little bit of lichen on top. The writing reads:

MOTHER
MARY E. WENGER
WIFE OF L.H. SHANK
MAR. 1850 - JAN. 1894

The quality, the style and amount of engraving, and the word "Mother" make me think that Mary's children may have gone in together at a later date and had this marker erected, but I have no proof of that. There are no existing cemetery records to see where and when plots and markers were put in.

I was also intrigued that the stone refers to Mary by her maiden name, and then adds her husband's name. I'd love to know who decided on that wording, and why.

I felt sorry that I hadn't brought some flowers, and I had envisioned a quiet, solemn moment at the grave but the city employees who brought us there were very friendly and chatty, which was just fine, but not quite what I had planned! I was so grateful for their help and friendliness, though.

Bowling Green is a small, sleepy town that had its heyday 90 or 100 years ago, when people felt that inland Florida was a dandy place to spend a few weeks resting and recuperating  The main architectural feature on Route 17, just north of Main St., is the old Green Hotel, an impressive bit of Art Deco architecture. It was sitting empty with a realtor's sign in front of it, and apparently has been used for several different purposes since it was built.


Bowling Green also has an adorable train depot (Todd and I love old depots) right next to the railroad tracks that ran straight north and south through the center of town.


One of my misconceptions was that Mary had died somewhere to the south, in DeSoto County, and when I saw the depot, I speculated that maybe her body had been sent up to Bowling Green on the train, that perhaps Bowling Green was closer to wherever the Shanks lived than Arcadia was, and was the closest place with a cemetery. We were about to hop back in the car and prove me quite mistaken...I'll tell that story when I have a little more time.