Carrie: Welcome to the Jessamine County Public Library's self guided audio tour of Locust Grove Cemetery, which is located on State Highway 1 Hundred And 60 9 in Nicholasville, Kentucky. I'm Carrie Green. On this tour, you'll the graves of former community members and learn their stories. You'll also hear memories from some of their living relatives. Allow approximately one hour to complete the tour.

We recommend pausing Please observe the following guidelines. Allow yourself enough time to complete the tour before sundown. Do not take the tour when it's dark. Please watch your step. The ground is uneven, and some of the headstones are flush with the earth.

Do not lean on the headstones. Please be respectful. The people who are buried here have living relatives who visit their graves. We will begin the tour at the top of the entrance driveway. As you face the cemetery from the road, it's the driveway on the left.

According to Frank Cannon Jr, who is on the Locust Grove Cemetery Board, African Americans have been buried in Locust Grove Cemetery since the mid to late 1800s. The oldest headstone listed in in Howard Teter's book Family Cemeteries belongs to America Combs, who died in 1890. However, as Mr. Cannon told us, many of the older graves in the cemetery no longer have markers.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: And a lot of the markers, you just can't find them because they're, some were just, rock, a mark put down. Others, where there were tombs on there, they've fallen down. Mhmm. Or you cannot find them. Some of it may have been marked with some other means.

Mhmm. But you start digging in there, you're gonna dig up bones. At the time, they did not use vaults to put them in or concrete boxes. Just had the wooden casket put down in the grave. That's where that stuff rots out.

As a result, the grave sent down. That's when we can find them now because you got a little where graves are are that sunk down so we know there is a grave. Who's there? I don't know. There's no there at the grave there.

You have the family members that would know where someone is buried and who's buried next to them or in in relation to where their graves are there. Mhmm. It's it's not an easy job.

Carrie: Right. Yeah. While all cemeteries contain important historical and genealogical information, the facts inscribed on surviving tombstones in African American cemeteries may not be available anywhere else. As Nadia Orton writes on savingplaces.org, "Headstones may carry the names of little known yet influential figures, whose voices have been left out of the historical record." Number one, Andrew McAfee. As you face the cemetery, McAfee's headstone is the first one on the left.

Carrie: Andrew McAfee was born in 1862 and died in 1937. He was the first African American council member in Jessamine County. He represented District 2 in 1898.

Carrie: In A History of Jessamine County, Kentucky: From its Earliest Settlement to 1898, Bennett Henderson Young praises McAfee's conduct and character and says that McAfee's energy and determination inspired the confidence and trust of his constituents. McAfee was educated in Jessamine County's African American schools and worked as a hotel cook. He was the son of James and Ellen Tap McAfee. They are included along with seven other family members in the 1870 census of Jessamine County Number two, George Combs Walk to the third row down and slightly to the left from McAfee's headstone until you see George Combs' large headstone. George Combs was born in 1881 to Harriet and Isaac Combs.

He died in 1923. He owned a grocery store and coal yard on the corner of York And Chestnut Streets. He also owned Combs Brothers' Undertaking, a business that employed his brothers Charlie and Theodore. In 1920, Combs became the second African American to be elected to the Nicholasville City Council, representing the African American community called Herveytown. According to a 1920 article in The Crisis, the Republican Combs won by a large majority over his White Democratic opponent.

Combs' wife, Lula Claiborne, was a teacher. They had a daughter, Christine, who also became a teacher after graduating from Fisk University. Number three, Annabel Holloway Jackmon. Cross the driveway and walk down a couple of rows toward the rear of the cemetery until you see a rounded illegible headstone standing by itself. Head to your right and stop when you see Orabelle and Frank R.

Cannon Sr. Headstone. According to Juanita White, the unmarked grave between the Cannons and Nellie Claiborne belongs to her mother.

Juanita White: My mother was born September 1912, and she passed away May 7, 1985. My mother was born in Kenton County, Covington, very warm, very caring person, Very, very loving. If you needed food, she would cook for you or let you have what it is that she had. She didn't have much money back in the day, but she offered to sit with children if parents had to go somewhere. Very church going.

Just all around, you know, good person. But her mother passed away at an early age, so she was raised by her father. And she had a brother. It was just the two of them. Her dad brought her here because of the the job search was better.

He he worked in a machine factory. Mhmm. And he would take the bus to Lexington. And my mom stayed with a elderly woman they called grandma.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Juanita White: Grandma was old in her ways. She kinda looked like Granny Clampett. I used to have a picture of her. She raised my mother, and somewhere along the way, she met my my dad. Mhmm.

My mom was, like, 18 years old, and he wasn't too much younger. I think she was older than him. Mhmm. So they lived here in Jessamine County, got married, and had a family. When she and my dad, Robert Duncan Jackmon, got married, they had six children, two boys and four girls.

She worked for two women here in town Mhmm. Back in the day. A Miss Cole who had a Cole paint store on Main Street, which is now Chamber of Commerce.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Juanita White: She worked with a Miss Catherine Duncan, whose husband at the time was part owner of Mars and DeSpain, which was a equipment place up on the highway as you come into Jessamine County. It's something called Koi now. Mhmm. She would clean house a couple of days a week for one or the other lady, and she got to know the family, the Duncan family, really well. She babysit Mhmm.

A set of twins that belonged to the the Duncan woman, and she got to know them. The twins was Frey Arben and Frey Zane. To this day, they think of her family. My mother was a wonderful cook. I wished I stayed in the kitchen while she cooked.

She made the best blackberry cobbler. My mother had a had friends, Miss Rena Smith. And miss Rena moved to the city, she calls it, from the farm because it was closer. Her husband wasn't really well, and he couldn't work the farm. So they kept the farm a little longer, and she moved to town.

But she had garden out there. Tomatoes, green beans, apples, berries, potatoes. My mother learned how to can. She helped her. To this day, I can't even look at a tomato.

She made tomato juice. She put up tomatoes. She put up green beans. She put up corn. She put up cabbage.

And somehow, we put a sheet on the roof, got somebody to go up there and put a sheet on, and she sliced apples and dried apples. She made fried pies.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Juanita White: You have never tasted anything so good.

Carrie: That sounds really good. What how did do you know how she made them?

Juanita White: Well, she made the crust, which was a biscuit crust, and then she would, put the apples in a skillet with some butter, some, just some cinnamon, sugar. Didn't use brown sugar back then. And she would make sure that they were nice and plump, you know, and she would take them out. She put the dough in the oven to to bake it and take it out, put the apples in it, fold it over, and put it back in the oven. She wanted the dough to get just a little bit done.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Juanita White: And we fight over. But we my mother taught us never to make fun of anybody, never to laugh at anybody's problems, never to never to do anything that they want somebody to do to us.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Juanita White: So all in all, we kept that. You know? She surrounded us with love and patience and faith that, my nieces and nephews know the things that grandma, that's what they call her, taught them, and they pass it, play it forward.

Carrie: Number four, Frank R. Cannon Sr. And number five, Orabel Hamilton Cannon. Now turn to Frank Cannon Sr. And Orabel Cannon's graves.

Frank R. Cannon Sr. Was born in Jessamine County in 1913 and died in 1988. He graduated from high school in Nicholasville and earned an AB degree from Kentucky State University. He was one of the first graduate students to integrate the University of Kentucky.

He earned a master's of education there. He later completed postgraduate work at the Tuskegee Institute and at Atlanta University. Cannon served as principal of Rosenwald Dunbar School. He was the first African American member of the Jessamine County Board of Education. He left Jessamine County to work as a principal and superintendent of the Lincoln Heights School System in Ohio.

He taught in the Cincinnati school system before returning to Central Kentucky, where he served as director of the Head Start program in Lexington, Fayette County. Frank Cannon Junior talked to us about his father's role in the community.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: And that's with being a school teacher and principal of the, school at that time. He was, well known here in Nicholasville.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: And after he retired from teaching, he also was in the, Retired Teachers Association here in Jessamine County, Jessamine County Retired Teachers Association. He was active in that all up until he passed. Mhmm. So he was pretty much into the public view as far as being well known in the community. Mhmm.

On top of that, he had a repair shop which drew in customers from all over, Fayette, Jesmon County.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: So he got to be known in that way also. When I retired from service in 1980, I came back home here and then I worked with him in the shop. He he owned the shop. Mhmm. I worked in there until he passed and after he he his passing, then I continued to run the shop until, around 90-91, somewhere like that.

Carrie: Mhmm. And what was it like, working with your father?

Frank Cannon, Jr.: Very, very, very good. We trained several other mechanics. We also had, the little, the I think it was the f f a or FHA, where kids come to school. Mhmm. Gave them a course during the winter time on engine repair for for the lawnmowers or whatever to what the hell they would, come to the shop every week.

And if they didn't have an engine to work on, we gave them one because we had had had plenty of them in the middle where we, completely tore it down all the way down to nothing, built it back up, and then pulled the starter open and started. And that was, very rewarding to us as well as to the kids. We had a couple of, kids that, took first place in the state Mhmm. Competitions, of which one was a girl.

Carrie: Oh, that's awesome. And what about what year was that?

Frank Cannon, Jr.: It had to been in, maybe '83, '80 '4, somewhere like that.

Carrie: That's great. So your dad was teaching even after he'd retired.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: He'd retired. You never get you never give up teaching. Yeah.

Carrie: Did he ever tell you any stories about his teaching career?

Frank Cannon, Jr.: No. Because I went to school under him.

Carrie: Oh, did you? So what was that like?

Frank Cannon, Jr.: Very to me, very restricted. Things I wanted to do, I couldn't I I couldn't do because of status there.

Carrie: Uh-huh.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: Teachers, you know, they were at that time, the teacher had a very good interest in the students. Mhmm. And one of my teachers, she corrected me several times, letting me know that I could not not do that because my father was the principal then. That set me a bad example for other students.

Jennifer Smith: Right.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: So it was kinda restrictive, but it was very nice. It was very strict. Very, as far as discipline goes.

Jennifer Smith: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: A

very good teacher. In college, he majored in math and history. So that was his his strong points. And

Carrie: he Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: Taught that, history, math, science. During the summertime, he was raising tobacco. Worked with another contractor, Brian Sebastian, in concrete during the summer. He also went up to, New York as a supervisor there in one of the factories during the summertime. Mhmm.

Because at that time, they only paid teachers nine months out of the year. So he had to do something for the other two, two and a half months.

Carrie: Right.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: So he did that. At one time, he was sharecropping on on the three other farms.

Jennifer Smith: Wow.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: In addition to raising on this farm where we still live at now, the home farm.

Jennifer Smith: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: So that was, taught us the value of not being lazy, but to actually get out and do stuff. Mhmm. That home on the farm area, we had, once again, typical farm with with cattle and your poultry, the chickens, geese, ducks, guineas, what have you.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: Cattle that we had to take care of them, they went and saw them. That was my brother and I's job to do that. Mhmm. And it was something that we did every morning. This time of the year, before my father took over as principle also driving school bus.

Jennifer Smith: Oh, wow.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: So he would yes. He he kept busy.

Carrie: Sounds like it. He would

Frank Cannon, Jr.: drive school bus and, pick us up. If if you weren't out there, we had to walk to school a couple of times because, he said I'd be by 07:26. And if you were out there at 07:27, you were late.

Carrie: Oh, wow.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: And you walked out.

Carrie: You had

Frank Cannon, Jr.: to walk the week. We got that I guess that's some of the members that we remember because it was a long walk from home school, about four miles a little four miles.

Carrie: Yeah. I guess you learned your lesson.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: Very good.

Carrie: Frank Cannon senior's wife, Orabel Hamilton Cannon, is buried next to him. She was born in 1911 and died in 1998. Frank Cannon Junior shared some of his memories about his mother and her own teaching career.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: She's from Breckenridge County Mhmm. Western Kentucky. She met my father down in Kentucky State And then, they got married, when he finished college in '36. And then she taught school, little school called Little Zion out on Catnip Hill Road.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: I remember her teaching there. She also, drove school bus to pick up kids at that area there.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: The one room school from first through the sixth grades. So one teacher, that was her.

Jennifer Smith: Wow.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: Her school bus at that time was, nineteen thirty seven Ford, bread wagon. Well, that was a little bit better than what we had. These bus that my father drove at that time was a 1937 ambulance.

Carrie: Oh, wow.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: And and they didn't hadn't even did not even pin it yellow. It's still black. Had a board down one side and board down the other side.

Carrie: Oh, okay.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: School her school bus the same thing. A little panel truck, they call them bread wagons.

Carrie: Uh-huh.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: Board down each side, but she would drive to school bus, pick up kids, and teach. And then in the evening time, take them all back home.

Anna Kenion: Wow.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: And then when the integrated schools are consolidated rather before integration, so consolidated schools, they did away with all these little outline. One one schools as you have where they have one or two teachers and brought them all into Nicholasville

Anna Kenion: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: And to the, to the high schools that were here. Then, of course, when integration, came along in the early late fifties, then I started doing away with a lot of the other schools. Mhmm. My mother wound up teaching over to Wilmore doing her final a year before she retired. Talked to Wilmore Elementary School.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: And the I think it was the either second or fourth grade. She taught both grades over there.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: And that's that's when she retired from there.

Carrie: So you didn't go to

Carrie: the same school that your mother taught at? No.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: She taught at a different school. I went strictly to Nicholasville. I went to the at that time, it was called Rosenwald Dunbar, at the end of Chestnut Street.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: The the building's there. It was enough having my father as a teacher. I I knew I I didn't need more mother my father's teacher. I would be taught when we got back home, though.

Carrie: Alright. And did you have any any favorite memories of your mother that you wanted to share?

Frank Cannon, Jr.: Oh, she was once a very caring person, quiet, took interest in her students. If a student didn't learn, then she took extra time out for that particular student to to help them out. She'd bring her work home at night, take it back in the morning time, and then, discuss what she could do to get a student to learn.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: But some students, you cannot get through to them. It's you just can't. Sometimes it's a personality. Sometimes it's your voice. Sometimes it's the student just doesn't wanna learn.

But she's tried to reach every student that she could to make sure that student learned, when we when she got out of out of her class. What they did in the next class, I don't know. But when she had them, she wanna make sure of that. The other thing was she was a very Christian lady also. Made sure that my brother and I, we stayed out all night.

We got up Sunday morning. We went to church.

I don't

care what you feel like when you came in? Very nice.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Carrie: Frank Cannon senior's parents, Lizzie Brent Sheff Davis Cannon and Simon Cannon are also buried in Locust Grove Number 6 Lizzie Cannon Walk back up toward the road six rows and head toward the exit driveway on your left Lizzie Cannon's grave is almost to the exit driveway Her headstone faces the road Frank Cannon Jr. Talked to us about his grandmother, who was born in 1870 and died in 1965.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: She was, born in Scott County, over around Leesburg, in Mulatto. She was the oldest of 12. She had 11 brothers. She was the only female, that she was married first time. I had three children by the first marriage, then she married my father's, father.

Mhmm. And had, that six or seven, somewhere like it. Some are died when they were young. And, when they came to Jessamine County, they lived out here on Nicholasville Road, bought a place out here on Nicholasville Road. At that time, it's called the, Nicholasville Lexington Turnpike.

And the place they bought, right now, I think, would be probably above where tractor supply is. It used to be, it's for the old Walmart. It used to be down there. There was there was a place that we owned at first. And then later, bought up where where we live at now.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: But, she, was basically self educated, learned to read, write. She worked as strictly as a as a housewife.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: She never never had a job where she walked away from home.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: Everything that she had was right there. She raised up my father, his sister, and, all of them. Well, in fact, all the chimps she raised with Mary. We we always call her mama because she was in the house when I was born there. She very quiet.

Mhmm. Soft spoken. Did a lot of sewing, cooking. At the time when you made clothes, Mhmm. And most of the life, she she made a lot did a lot of did a lot of stuff on quilting just for what housewives normally do.

Mhmm. Especially when you're raising children.

Carrie: Mhmm.

Frank Cannon, Jr.: Let's see some of the fondest memories I have over there.

Carrie: Frank Cannon junior's sister, doctor Clarice Boswell, wrote a book about their grandmother called Lizzie's story, a slave family's journey to freedom, which describes Lizzie's life as well as Lizzie's mother's life as a slave. You can read more about Lizzie, her quilts, and the family's struggle for freedom in doctor Boswell's book, which is available for checkout at the Jessamine County Public Library. Number seven, Emma Jean Gwen Miller From Lizzie Cannon's grave, cross the exit driveway, which is to your right as you face the cemetery Walk down four rows toward the rear of the cemetery. Turn right and stop when you see the large rose colored stone with Miller engraved on the side facing the road. The names Emma Guyn and William T.

Are engraved on the other side of the stone. Emma Jean Guyn Miller died in 02/2009 at the age of 107. She was born in Woodford County in 1901 and moved with her family to Nicholasville in 1902. Miller graduated from Russell High School in Lexington because the African American school in Nicholasville only had eight grades. Her mother, who earned $4.5 a week as a domestic, and the Bethel AME Church in Nicholasville helped finance her education.

After earning her teaching certificate from Turner Normal School in Shelbyville, Tennessee, Miller began teaching in Nicholasville in 1922 in a one room schoolhouse. She later studied at Wilberforce, Tennessee State, Atlanta University, the University of Kentucky, and Kentucky State College. She taught school for more than forty years. In an article by Merlene Davis that appeared in the Lexington Herald Leader, Miller's former student remembered her fondly. Sarah Newby, who became a teacher herself, attended Miller's nineteen forty two class at Rosenwald Dunbar School in Nicholasville.

She said that Miller kept a mailbox on her desk. We all took pride in writing her letters, nice letters, and she would read them on Friday, Newby said. It was so much fun seeing the expression on her face when she read the letters. Others, such as Hostela White, remembered her kindness toward her students. White said, I didn't find out until recently that she made sure children had lunches.

She would see to it that they had some clothes. Miller took care of friends and family as well, buying a home for her mother and other relatives. Although she and her husband, William Miller, did not have children, they cared for several children, including her niece, Norma Jenkins. Jenkins remembered her aunt as being very loving and very giving. If anyone needed something, they could come to her, and she didn't worry about getting it back.

In addition to the article and the Herald Leader, Miller's death was also remembered in the United States Senate's Congressional Record. Number eight, Dorothy L. Smith. From Miller's grave, turn away from the road and walk down nine rows toward the rear of the cemetery. Turn right and walk almost all the way to the fence where you will find the headstones for Dorothy Smith and her son, Andrew Philip Smith Their headstones are flush with the ground Dorothy L.

Smith was born in 1930 and died in 02/2013. She was the mother of 12 children. At the time of her death, she had 24 grandchildren and 17 great grandchildren. Jennifer Smith spoke to us about her mother by phone from her home in Michigan.

Jennifer Smith: We had a wonderful mother and I really loved her and she loved us and that was the biggest part of the joy of her loving us, really loving us and caring for us. She not only was my mother, I looked at her as my friend and my confidant because whenever I talked to her about anything, if I asked her not to say anything to anyone, she wouldn't. Mhmm. And, she always had this saying when we did share stuff with her, one of her favorite words would always be, well because she'd have no other words. And, then sometimes if we shared something with her or she knew something and it caught catch her off guard, she would just say, now.

We used to laugh about that all the time because of the one word. One of my sister had told her, you done dug that well so deep, we all gonna fall in it.

Carrie: Anna Kenion spoke to us about some of the challenges her mother faced while raising her family in Nicholasville.

Anna Kenion: Growing up in that poorish poverty area, that meant that we had no running water. But she would pack that water to make sure that old washing machine was washing those clothes. She hung them out on the line to dry, and, like I said, she just made do with trying to feed all these kids she was responsible for.

Jennifer Smith: She would get up before we go to school and make sure we had breakfast before we went out the door. She did not send us out the door hungry, and she would fix our lunches. So, you know, that right there, she cared for us in that way. When she, her health started declining, she lived with my older sister Brenda and in her bedroom my sister had a picture of Jesus on the wall and she would look at it every day because it was in her eye gait. And as she starts start really slowing down and we knew, She starts saying, I'm ready to go home.

And we were saying, Mom, you are home. She goes, No, I'm ready to go home with him. And that just blessed us because she recognized and she said, he told me to come on. It took us a little bit to realize that she was talking about Jesus. So that prepared us, you know, to know and that right there was heartfelt, heartwarming because she said, he said, come on and I'm ready to go home.

So we was prepared and accept that. So the day that she took her last breath, she was smiling.

Anna Kenion: At her homegoing service, a lot of people got not even just that homegoing service, but her homegoing service was just a great celebration because, having that many children and being married and to my father who was, you know, he was loving and everything, but, he, ended up going legally blind. And so when you're talking about having to deal with, you know, a man who feels like he wasn't a man at times because he couldn't provide for his family when he had to go on disability and, you know, and and helping him to and care for his needs of helping him to see the things that he could not see and and just deal with his whole emotional state. She was just a a very strong lady, but who had enough love that she showed. She never took her frustrations and and life circumstances out on anyone. Mhmm.

So she was just a true model of the virtuous woman, in the bible that we know that we read so much about. And that's what we put on her her casket, you know, inside, you know, that was lifted up was, you know, that she was a virtuous woman, you know, who sacrificed a lot of her, things that she, you know, probably missed out on for the love of others, because her life spoke very powerful and a great volume of what l o v e was, you know, and that goes a long way.

Carrie: Number nine, Andrew Thomas Apple Smith. Walk back towards the road for two rows and turn to your right until you see Andrew Thomas Smith's grave It is also flush with the ground Andrew Thomas Smith was born in 1930 and died in 1993. Anna Kenion told us more about her father's life.

Anna Kenion: He was a man who, is very was very well known in the community as, the the deacon, the elder who prayed long prayers. And, and he could sing, you know, and that's the fond memory I I have of him would be in the middle of the night hearing him at two or 03:00 in the morning singing praises unto god, you know. But he and in between of the coughs and that he was experiencing because he had, also developed, emphysema. And so it was times that he would be coughing, you know, so profusely, and I would be praying to God, please let him breathe. Let him breathe.

And then he would burst out in the song. You know? And so that was a comfort for me to hear him, singing those praise songs, throughout his life. And then, again, as I alluded to earlier, about when he became blind, that felt that feeling of being your manhood being stripped. He still stuck it out with all his kids.

You know? He he, made sure they went to church together. You know? One of the funny things I remember of him is that, we never owned a car. I guess that we grew up in the the the most poorest part.

Not in the most poorest part, but but in the city down on Jefferson Street, and they called it the bottom for a reason. And, so my parents always had to depend on other people giving them a ride to the grocery store or to church or wherever. And I never forget, dad came home one day, and he pulled up in this little white car. And we was like, well, my dad I've never seen him drive before, but, he's like, come on. Get in.

This I got a car, and we're gonna take a ride. We got as far as at the top of the hill of East Maple Street, and the car stopped working. And so we had to walk home. And so that that you know, it was like and that was a lot. We had the car for one day that I remember.

But, I do remember him being still committed to, you know, being that godly man that he was trying to he hadn't always been there. Before I was born, he, you know, into some things, you know, that was not, you know, appropriate. But then he became, you know, totally committed to God, and and so I'm glad I got to know him on the sweet side. You know, I tried to get him to, get involved with the Kentucky Department of the Blind to go down to learn, you know, some new skills that, will help him adapt daily. But he was just kinda set in his ways and did not wanna leave his home.

And so we just tried to teach him what, you know, we could to help him, you know. Like, for example, with the plate, we know that the 12:00 one and, like, the on the clock. And I would say to him, dad, your mashed potatoes are at 02:00. You know? Your, green beans are at 05:00.

You know? And and that kind of those little small things. And, and then he also received, their cassettes. Back then, it was cassettes, you know, to, hear the word of God. So it was a lot the he would get the Bible on the cassettes, and so that would still help him to, get the word, you know, even though he couldn't no longer read it.

Mhmm. But they were committed to each other, and they were committed to family. And for that, I am awesomely blessed.

Carrie: Number 10, Joe Pellman Now head back toward the center section of the cemetery and cross the driveway Walk down four rows toward the rear of the cemetery until you see the first row of graves that is parallel with a small tree Turn left at Emma West's headstone and stop when you find Joe Pellman's headstone It is a black stone with a picture of him engraved on it. Joseph Dreamer Pellman was born in 1890 and died in 1976. He was not quite five feet tall, usually dressed in ragged clothing, often followed by a homeless dog or two, and earned a living doing odd jobs and pushing carts of junk to the dump, but he was still a prince in Nicholasville for most of his eighty five years. Joe was well known throughout the community for his claim that he was descended from either Indian or Ethiopian royalty, calling himself the Prince of India or the Prince of Abyssinia. His sister, Vyce Henry, said that he was born in Lincoln County, Kentucky and that the family moved to Nicholasville when Joe was 11 years old.

Still, no one minded going along with Joe's colorful story. Joe's sister said that he was an avid reader who kept a lot of books and magazines around the house. Although he did attend the Herbie Town School for a short time, his ability to read and write was mostly self taught. According to Harold Higgs, Joe would often stop with his cart outside the Higgs residence on Third Street to rest and read. Mister Higgs also said that Joe ordered books from Africa, which lent some credibility to his claim of being from Ethiopia.

People who knew Joe said he was a friendly, gentle man who was kind to children and animals and loved to tell stories. At two points in his life, he was accused of wrongdoing and even put in jail for a couple of days. People of the community interceded on Joe's behalf, insisting he simply wasn't capable of the crimes. He was acquitted. Joe's death was sadly ironic.

After hauling trash for so many years, he was killed by a garbage truck. He had sat down on the bumper of the truck to rest. The driver didn't see him and accidentally ran over him. Joe lived with his mother until she died in 1950 and then with his sister until his death in 1976. He had lived from hand to mouth and his relatives had little money to bury him.

His original gravestone was nothing more than a concrete fence cap engraved and painted black. Then a Facebook group called You Grew Up in Jessamine County If posted an old photograph of Joe. Of all the characters discussed on the page, Joe Pellman brought up the most memories and comments. Eventually, the group initiated a fundraiser to get Joe a different headstone. 83 donors from 11 states gave $2,800 towards the stone you see now.

This concludes the Locust Grove Audio Tour and Oral History Podcast. Thank you for listening. We produced this this podcast in the recording studio at the Jessamine County Public Library. For more information on the Locust Grove Oral History Project, including a list of our sources, visit our website at juspublib.org/locustgrove. Our theme music is by Scott Whiddon.

You can find out more about Scott on his website, adoorforadesk.com.