"Home is where your ancestors are buried." ~Jerod Story~
The property was laid out for a cemetery in 1901,
but the records for the first 10 years were lost. The Lincoln County Court
House in North Platte reportedly had a fire "under unusual circumstances".
My Great Grandfather, L.E. Story was elected president in 1911. He served
for 25 years as president and then 7 more as secretary. William Story, Howard
Story, and Jerod Story also served on the cemetery board. Storys served
continuously from 1911 until 1995.
McPherson National Cemetery
I Have a Rendezvous with Death
I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade When Spring comes round with rustling shade
And apple blossoms fill the air. I have a rendezvous with death When Spring
brings back blue days and fair.
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land And close my eyes and quench my breath;
It may be I shall pass him still. I have a rendezvous with Death On some
scarred slope of battered hill, When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow flowers appear.
God knows 'twere better to be
deep Pillowed in silk and scented down, Where love throbs out in blissful
sleep, Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath, Where hushed awakenings
are dear... But I've a rendezvous with Death At midnight in some flaming
town, When Spring trips north again this year, And I to my pledged word
am true, I shall not fail that rendezvous.
Historic McPherson grand pride
of the plain, Where majesty reverence and sacredness reign. Your precinct
environs are hallowed indeed. Here rest the defenders who succured our need.
We thrill with an owe that is gripping and deep. And raffle the step where
superb troopers sleep. We love every fold of the flag over head. True
sentinel guarding the bivoacked dead. A spirit of homage like soft wafted
breeze, Prevail where the sunbeams glint down through the trees. We cherish
achievements our noble sons wrought, The prestige of nation their sacrifice
bought. We bow with respect as we enter the gate, And depart with a prayer
for the enclosed estate. ~John K. Barnett~
poem was from a newspaper clipping found in my Grandma's Scrap Book)
Fort McPherson National Cemetery
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the popies blow Between
the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The
larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.
are the dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved
and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
Take up our
quarrel with the foe; To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be
yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not
sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.
McCrae~ By courtesy of Punch.
The McCullough Family Cemetery
private cemetery is a small Roman Catholic family cemetery just outside
of town. The cemetery is fenced in with one lone grave outside the cemetery.
The lady, Mary Burns, was buried there without having had the last rights
of the Roman Catholic Church; therefore she was not permitted to be buried
within the confines of the cemetery.
County Established in 1869
Genealogy Pages Old Time Photographs & History My Family
History and the History of the town of Maxwell, Nebraska
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This site was created in 1999-2013 by A. Olsen ęCopyright 1999-2013, A. Olsen.
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