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(click on photo to enlarge, 9/21/00)
Dedicated to some of the residents of the Elko County Cemetery:
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Gima Jones May 18, 1877 July 29, 1961
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David O. Gilliland Ohio PFC 100 Base Unit AAF World War II December 15, 1931 July 9, 1966 |
Ome Zuay Toon Age 59 Died October 26, 1917 Chinese |
Mother Maude Long March 8, 1895 February 8, 1953 |
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Nellie E. Tadlock 1920 - 1994 |
Jack Temoke 1897 - 1944 |
Emma Green Died Dec. 22, 1924 Age 44 years |
James J. Bird Love God Died May 30, 1928 23 years of age |
Elko County Cemetery
There is a place
that I have found.
That is very close
to the center of town.
I would rather write
close to the heart of our town.
But, I'm afraid - that it's not so.
The reason why? - It does confound.
Now, this town
has a heart of gold.
Greater than all of the ore
taken from our hills and sold.
But for some unknown reason
most pass by this spot
as if it wasn't there.
As if it were ... a vacant lot.
So many emotions flood my mind.
I really don't know where to begin.
But their story does need told, for this place
truly is both - the beginning and the end.
True freedom can be found
within the gates of pauper's field.
Where there is no grass and weeds abound.
Where untold lives have been concealed.
There is a longing feeling here
that is difficult to convey.
Best touched, when you come alone.
Best felt, when you pray.
It is as if the dead wish to speak.
For they call to me, "Where are my heirs?"
"Why have they forsaken me?"
"Why is it, that there are so few that care?"
"When was the last time
that anyone spoke my name?"
"Does anyone recall - the color of my eyes?"
"Do you remember, from whence I came?"
"I bore three children."
"I cut the wood to build this town."
"I laid the iron tracks across this land."
"I tended the cattle." " I tilled the ground."
"But when my health turned bad
and it came my turn to go -
little of value did I have left.
There was little cash to show."
"I was buried across the road,
in a casket made of pine.
In a field of weeds and dirt.
Untended since that time."
Across the way the others lay,
'neath the freshly tended grass.
Under the shade of spreading elms,
with fine monuments, and flowers in glass.
"Is this just another stark reminder
of mans inhumanity to man?
To punish our souls for dying poor.
How long must our sentence stand?"
Is there perhaps some petty account
and a little labor to spare.
To provide this hallowed ground
with a little bit more loving care?
- Dan Turner 2/27/1
Elko, Nevada