THE "W" AND THE WHITE ROSE/Searching for Leoto
Searching for Leoto
We enjoyed the three-hour plus drive, chatting away endlessly about The St. Louis Cardinal's opening day game, the team and players. But, mostly we talked about the Great Grandmother we never knew, but whom had been a frequent topic of conversation in our formative years. Her name was Leoto Gardalia Toler, nee: Wilson, nee: Seely. Mother Iva Delores Wilson Ragan, Grandma Bessie Moore Wilson, and in later years, Aunt Mary Lou Wilson Bazzell always seemed to have the same fascination with her, where her life had taken her, and especially her final place of rest.
Thanks to the persistence of Ken, who is the only person probably more driven than myself to find her grave site, we finally received from the state of Tennessee her death certificate confirming her place of interment in the Cemetery of the West Union Cumberland Presbyterian Church in Millington, Tennessee. But, now we wanted more. We wanted to find her grave, be assured of its upkeep, and pay our respects to a family member that we had long held in our hearts, though we had never met.
I did not hold out much hope of finding the exact grave. I had contacted Mrs. Betty Lou Downs and she had transcribed from old records all of the known names in the cemetery, and Leoto Gardalia Wilson was not among them. Mrs. Downs and her husband John had been the keeper of records and the keeper of grounds for the West Union Cemetery for a number of years before their retirement. What complicated things even more was that Leoto had been gravely ill with Tuberculosis of the Lungs, as detailed on her death certificate, and had had that debilitation for four years.
Abandoned by or separated from her second husband, Samuel Seely, she had taken the surname of our Great-Grandfather, Madison Wilson, again and was listed as Leoto Gardalia Wilson on her death certificate. She died in the heat of a hot summer morning at 11 A.M. on July 30, 1914 and was buried the next day. It is likely, given her circumstances, that she died destitute, probably alone, and in severe and breath wrenching pain and agony. Her grave would have been marked simply, if at all.
Our grandfather, Clarence Madison Wilson was summoned and signed the death certificate, though it is unclear whether this was after her burial or whether he was there prior to her death. So, all things pointed to a futile effort to pinpoint her exact place of rest. And that is the way things basically played out. Ken and I walked every grave and headstone behind the church, and though other Wilsons were there, not Leoto. Betty Lou Downs brought her listings and they also proved to not have a clue for us. She walked the cemetery for some time with us, seeming to understand our passion for this search.
We did not find her grave as a certainty, but for some reason, Ken and I ended up over the vast acreage in virtually the same general area about the same time. Ken called to me that he had found a simple oblong concrete masonry with the letter "W" engraved on top. We were, without apparent cause drawn considerably to this stone, next to other unmarked graves. The likelihood that this was the exact spot of our ancestor's interment is remote, but we claimed it. It felt right. And we needed to feel we had been able somehow to show our respects.
We went to lunch, and felt we needed to go back afterwards to the cemetery again. We searched again through the tilted, half-buried, and often broken slabs of masonry, granite, marble and limestone and found our way back again to the concrete with the "W" etched on top. Ken, in his thoughtful way, had brought a white rose that he said stood for loyalty, and he placed it in the ground next to the "W". And they looked beautiful to us in the sun-drenched field of un-mowed grass and inscripted hardscape. The ""W" and the White Rose.....
Wishing I could call mother, but she now deceased, I instead called Aunt Mary while we were there, wanting to share the moment with her, but did not get an answer. She returned the call on the way home. Sharing her delight of our endeavors that day, she revealed something we did not know.
It had always been said that Leoto somehow carried a portion of our Native American heritage with her bloodline. Our mother had never looked like the rest of her Wilson siblings, but had always looked very much American Indian. Aunt Mary now causally informed me, as if we had always known this, that her dad, our grandfather, had always said, many times, that mother did not look like the other children so much but she sure did resemble his mother, Leoto.
We are not done with the search for our great grandmother. Of this I am certain. Somewhere, I would like to think there is documentation that not only lists Leoto Gardalia Wilson, but confirms the exact plot of her burial. But, regardless, we will be back to West Union Cemetery in the sure knowledge that somewhere on our walks through the verdant field we will have visited her and she is somehow aware that she has been found at last.
And failing at certainty at exactness of her reposed slumber, we will find our way to the White Rose and the "W" and trust she will know she is yet loved and not forgotten.
Keith Wayne Ragan
April 6, 2010
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