When my sister, my cousin and I went to the reunion two years ago, Francis Walker gave us her afternoon to visit a private cemetery within the Fiery Gizzard Cove. We came upon a fenced in graveyard next to a house. A deer wearing a pink collar was inside with two goats which kept the weeds down. The goat wore the collar so that hunters would know it was somewhat of a pet even though it just jumped over the fence and left the goats when done with the visit. The lady who lived there on the property had taken it upon herself to keep the grounds weed free and was carefully replacing stones which had gone down too low in the ground. The amazing thing for us was that of all the stones we saw, there was only our mutual great maternal grandmother's name visible on the stone, Susan Plummer. It looked like the cemetery had mostly infants buried there because the headstones and the foot stones were so close together. We had not known much of anything of our history except that our grandmother, Mary Lee Plummer Simpson, had grown up in Tennessee. She had become a teacher as was her sister, sister's son, and me. I wanted to know where she lived and taught when she was very young on a place she referred to as "out on the mountain". There was her mother's gravestone, a final proof of the place she lived and died so long ago.
Submitted by, Suzanne Rodehaver Bughman, Susan's great granddaughter
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