The Ghosts of Abingdon

My first trip of exploration to Abingdon was in 2010. I was participating in the Appalachian Writing Project's summer institute, and we made a day trip to the Martha Washington Inn where we were treated to a mini ghost tour by Abingdon's very own "Haint Mistress," Donnamarie Emmert.

The Martha Washington Inn

Just for fun, I made a little video that offers a peak into a few of the "haunted" areas of The Martha, along with some views from Sinking Spring Cemetery (more on that below). 

Now that we have the silliness out of the way, let's take a look at what I discovered on my most recent trip to this beautiful and historic town. 

This mound caught my eye as I was driving down the road that runs behind Main Street. Of course, I had no idea where I was, but I had to stop and get a closer look.

Turns out, it was a grave site. I don't know if it is actually a mound covered in vine, or if there is some kind of structure under there, but I was WAY too afraid of snakes to do much nosing around. Ha. After I finished checking out this curiosity, I turned to my left and noticed that I was at the Sinking Spring Cemetery! I had enjoyed my last trip to the cemetery so much that I couldn't resist heading back in for a more extended look around.

The most amazing thing about this cemetery is its age. It actually has graves dating back to 1776. This was also the original site of the Sinking Spring Presbyterian Church. The church moved to its present location in 1851 at the corner of Pecan and Main.

The Present-day Location of Sinking Spring Presbyterian Church

 Getting back to Sinking Spring Cemetery - the cabin at the entrance is the cabin that served as parsonage for the first pastor of Sinking Spring Presbyterian - Reverend Charles Cummings.

The cabin was moved to its current location inside the cemetery in 1971.

 As I drove through the cemetery, this enclosure caught my eye. I got out to investigate and saw that it was a memorial to the Confederate soldiers who fought and died during the Civil War.

I obviously got a little camera-happy with this memorial, but I just couldn't leave. Something about it struck me so powerfully, that all I could do was stand there taking picture after picture of the site. Having grown up in Michigan - a Northern state that fought for the Union - the South and the Confederacy were only historical terms to me - they lacked dimension and reality because nothing in my experience made that side of the conflict come alive for me.

Even years later, when I visited Gettysburg, while I found myself overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the loss sustained there, the Southern casualties were absorbed by the whole of the tragedy, and it didn't strike home like it did for me here, in this little cemetery, in this little town in Southwestern Virginia.

Here the loss was personal. These tombstones represented fathers, brothers, cousins, and uncles, friends, classmates and fellow church members. These little pieces of stone marked the loss of someone important to the community of Abingdon, Virginia, and standing among them, I felt the weight of their sacrifice press in upon me, tethering me to the spot - unable to move on without first acknowledging the love and patriotism that motivated these men to risk everything for a cause they would eventually give their lives to. It was the only tribute I had to offer, and I gave it gladly.

Much later, as I was preparing to leave the cemetery, I realized that I hadn't paid close attention to the names on the gravestones, and for the life of me, I couldn't have said whether there had been a single Scots-Irish, Scottish, or Irish name among them! I decided to look more closely on my way out, and I noticed a great many markers bearing names from that region of the world - names like Carnahan, Gibson, Carter, along with a whole host of Macs, Mcs, and Os. This was a Presbyterian cemetery, after all!

Carnahan graves - the name struck me nearly as much as the apparent age of the stones themselves. I couldn't find a year on them, but their condition seemed to indicate that they had been around for a very long time.

I thoroughly enjoyed my tour of the Sinking Spring Cemetery as much the second time as I had the first. Cemeteries are fascinating to me because they offer a glimpse into the past of a community - a snapshot of the history and people that lived and died in an area, and like a picture, they leave you wanting to know more.