Graver's Journal

Shanna Riley February 23rd, 2008

While out snapping photos in a small church's cemetery this morning, I came across the graves of two young men, brothers, who shared more than a family connection.

On Christmas Day, 1974, thirteen year-old Rex Thomas, and his brother, ten year-old, Carey Thomas, both lost their lives. Buried alongside one another in Rising Star Baptist Church Cemetery, there is no other indication of what tragedy befell the two, young brothers.

The church, and its small cemetery, sit along the bayou on Hwy. 76 in Ramah, Louisiana. It is located down the road from the on and off-ramps for Interstate 10, just before it rises up onto the stretch of I-10 known as the Atchafalaya Basin. The old whitewashed, wooden church sits alone facing miles of sugar cane fields; at its back is the meandering, murky bayou. Embedded in cement, a stone plaque sits in front of the church telling of its founding in January 1893 by Rev. F. Jones.

Though the small cemetery holds around fifty graves, only forty-one of these are marked; some down by hand and carved into rough stone, barely legible - others with text nearly invisible from years of whitewashing and the bleaching of the sun's rays. It is likely there are even more petitioners buried in Rising Star's little cemetery; the locations and names lost to time or sitting veiled and unknown, except to those in possession of the church's record books.

It is evident that this small, Southern Baptist church has survived the years through the love and caring preservation of its members; a devoted few whose families contain generations of devout parishioners. The names etched onto the legible stones in the graveyard all bear similar surnames - Butler, Thomas, Chaney, Royal, and Lane - with few exceptions. This is a church whose members are like - or likely are - family.

This community is not rich; their church is small and humble, made of plain wood rather than strong brick or elaborate stone. The church sign is small, green; the white text unevenly spaced and not done by a professional hand. Sometimes I think such Christians must feel much more close to Jesus Christ is such simple, unpretentious buildings and surroundings - much more so than those praising Him in glittering, gymnasium-sized cathedrals and watching a sermon on video screens and through top-of-the-line sound systems.

The Thomas family, it appears, were not a wealthy clan. Young Rex's grave, according to his stone, was donated by his eighth grade class; something I found - at once - touching and heartbreaking. Just below his name it reads:

Donated by the 8th Gr. Class of T.A. Levy School
R.I.P.

How sweet and touching is that?

What tragedy, then, one wonders, befell the two young men, part of such a small but powerful, little community, on a Christmas Day thirty-four years ago? I have found nothing to confirm my suspicions and naught to solve the mystery; though I intend to keep searching.

• Graving Trip , The Dead
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