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ALBANY -- In the first photos snapped, Thomas E. Kent's lichen-covered gravestone pokes from the ground like a black gash against a wooded background, the result of years of neglect.
But the photos Doug Cross took Wednesday?
They told a different story.
Now, the young Civil War soldier's marble marker almost glows in the sunshine, while the words etched into the stone are easily readable. "Fell, Dec. 31, 1862," it reads, "at the Battle of Stone River contending for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Aged 22 Ys, 1 Mo and 22 Ds."
"It is a good feeling," said Cross, who cleaned the marker with the help of his 10-year-old daughter, Kelli, a fifth-grader at Albany Elementary School. "We learned a little chemistry, and preservation, plus it's been a good time for us out here to talk about it."
A 46-year-old Albany resident and former auto-worker whose job ended when BorgWarner closed, Cross is a history buff, an amateur archaeologist and budding preservationist. He came across Kent's grave in the McVey Memorial Forest, not far from nearby Fairview, one day last September while looking for a place where Civil War soldiers had used limestone slabs to make a fording place across the Mississinewa River.
"If you take a stick and hit the bottom of the river, you can still feel it," he said, of those stone slabs. "It's solid."
While heading to the site, he came across the old Steubenville Cemetery in a clearing, then spotted Kent's grave, which he immediately found intriguing.
"I mean, it was pitch black," he said, but he suspected it belonged to a soldier. "It looked like a soldier monument by the way it was shaped, and I could read the word 'Fell' on there."
Taking pictures of the gravestone, he computer-enhanced them back home to read more, then found a willing restoration partner in his daughter. Beginning with water and a soft scrub brush, the two followed recommended cleaning steps to the letter, using non-damaging chemicals and working to make the words on it readable again.
"It was full of sediment, kind of like a sandy substance, and we picked that out as good as we could," Cross said, noting how as a result of their work, moisture drawn into the marble can now dissipate through the stone. "The main thing now is, the marble can breathe again."
"I like it," Kelli said of her work Wednesday, lightly brushing a clear acrylic liquid into each etched letter and number while her father scattered a small amount of clean gravel around the gravestone's base.
"This is just to spruce it up a little," he noted, "and help keep some of the growth down. I think for all our purposes, it's finished. I'll probably keep it up now."
Important as their work to preserve the stone is, though, they are also preserving the memory of the young man buried underneath it.
It's a place of honor
The presence of old soldiers' spirits is thick hereabouts. Cross noted that Civil War soldiers traveled the nearby river frequently, and not far away, fresh-looking markers memorialize three soldiers from an earlier conflict -- the War of 1812 -- who died nearby.
Thompson Carnahan and Salem Peyatt died of wounds suffered near Marion in the Battle of Mississinewa, while Jesse Benton faced, perhaps, an even more gruesome end, being lost, along with his horse, west of where his marker now rests, in a "quagmire sinkhole."
But what of Kent, who was in Company E, 36th Regiment, of the Indiana Volunteers?
Researching the Civil War's Battle of Stone River on the Internet, Cross learned it took place in Murfreesboro, Tenn., between Dec. 31, 1862, and Jan. 2, 1863, and that Kent was one of 23,515 casualties. More exciting, though, a major's journal on a Civil War archive site addressed Kent's sad death, noting he suffered a musket shot to the left shoulder.
"Plus," Cross continued, "he was bayoneted."
It's knowing those details that keep thoughts of the young soldier in mind.
"I wonder what he looked like and what he went through," said Cross, who decorated the grave with a small American flag, noting that Kent died on a day we now traditionally celebrate, New Year's Eve.
He also thinks about how the young man's body made it back here for burial, and wonders if he was a resident of Steubenville, a town that once stood here, but has now disappeared, lost to time.
Thanks to the efforts of this father and his young daughter, that won't be Kent's fate.
"Maybe the name of this soldier will live on now," Cross said.
But the photos Doug Cross took Wednesday?
They told a different story.
Now, the young Civil War soldier's marble marker almost glows in the sunshine, while the words etched into the stone are easily readable. "Fell, Dec. 31, 1862," it reads, "at the Battle of Stone River contending for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Aged 22 Ys, 1 Mo and 22 Ds."
"It is a good feeling," said Cross, who cleaned the marker with the help of his 10-year-old daughter, Kelli, a fifth-grader at Albany Elementary School. "We learned a little chemistry, and preservation, plus it's been a good time for us out here to talk about it."
A 46-year-old Albany resident and former auto-worker whose job ended when BorgWarner closed, Cross is a history buff, an amateur archaeologist and budding preservationist. He came across Kent's grave in the McVey Memorial Forest, not far from nearby Fairview, one day last September while looking for a place where Civil War soldiers had used limestone slabs to make a fording place across the Mississinewa River.
"If you take a stick and hit the bottom of the river, you can still feel it," he said, of those stone slabs. "It's solid."
While heading to the site, he came across the old Steubenville Cemetery in a clearing, then spotted Kent's grave, which he immediately found intriguing.
"I mean, it was pitch black," he said, but he suspected it belonged to a soldier. "It looked like a soldier monument by the way it was shaped, and I could read the word 'Fell' on there."
Taking pictures of the gravestone, he computer-enhanced them back home to read more, then found a willing restoration partner in his daughter. Beginning with water and a soft scrub brush, the two followed recommended cleaning steps to the letter, using non-damaging chemicals and working to make the words on it readable again.
"It was full of sediment, kind of like a sandy substance, and we picked that out as good as we could," Cross said, noting how as a result of their work, moisture drawn into the marble can now dissipate through the stone. "The main thing now is, the marble can breathe again."
"I like it," Kelli said of her work Wednesday, lightly brushing a clear acrylic liquid into each etched letter and number while her father scattered a small amount of clean gravel around the gravestone's base.
"This is just to spruce it up a little," he noted, "and help keep some of the growth down. I think for all our purposes, it's finished. I'll probably keep it up now."
Important as their work to preserve the stone is, though, they are also preserving the memory of the young man buried underneath it.
It's a place of honor
The presence of old soldiers' spirits is thick hereabouts. Cross noted that Civil War soldiers traveled the nearby river frequently, and not far away, fresh-looking markers memorialize three soldiers from an earlier conflict -- the War of 1812 -- who died nearby.
Thompson Carnahan and Salem Peyatt died of wounds suffered near Marion in the Battle of Mississinewa, while Jesse Benton faced, perhaps, an even more gruesome end, being lost, along with his horse, west of where his marker now rests, in a "quagmire sinkhole."
But what of Kent, who was in Company E, 36th Regiment, of the Indiana Volunteers?
Researching the Civil War's Battle of Stone River on the Internet, Cross learned it took place in Murfreesboro, Tenn., between Dec. 31, 1862, and Jan. 2, 1863, and that Kent was one of 23,515 casualties. More exciting, though, a major's journal on a Civil War archive site addressed Kent's sad death, noting he suffered a musket shot to the left shoulder.
"Plus," Cross continued, "he was bayoneted."
It's knowing those details that keep thoughts of the young soldier in mind.
"I wonder what he looked like and what he went through," said Cross, who decorated the grave with a small American flag, noting that Kent died on a day we now traditionally celebrate, New Year's Eve.
He also thinks about how the young man's body made it back here for burial, and wonders if he was a resident of Steubenville, a town that once stood here, but has now disappeared, lost to time.
Thanks to the efforts of this father and his young daughter, that won't be Kent's fate.
"Maybe the name of this soldier will live on now," Cross said.
