Visit to old family cemetery stirs fond memories and reflections.
By Bobby Ross Jr. | The Christian Chronicle
CEDAR GROVE, Tenn. — My dad, Bob Ross, bent down and brushed leaves off the flat grave marker so he could read the inscription.
“Lloyd Lee Ross. Sgt US Army. World War II,” the writing said. “Bronze Star Medal. Purple Heart.”
The dates, March 24, 1918, to April 17, 2011, showed that my Papa Ross lived 93 years.
Nearby, the larger headstone for my father’s parents — Lloyd and Margaret Ross — noted that they were married Feb. 5, 1941. Their earthly union lasted 68 years before Grandma Ross died just before Christmas in 2009.
I’ve written previously about this middle-of-nowhere cemetery in rural West Tennessee, about 100 miles northeast of Memphis.
Generations of my family — going all the way back to my great-great-great-great-grandfather Danial Ross (1791-1842) — are buried at Palestine Cemetery under patches of grass by an old white church building.
But Dad and I hadn’t been back since Papa’s funeral nearly nine years ago. We hadn’t seen his World War II grave marker. So it was nice to touch it and snap a photo.
This column appears in the March 2020 print edition of The Christian Chronicle.