After a full day of activity Saturday—I visited a friend I hadn’t seen in over thirty years—my nieces Savanna, Ceilene and I piled into the Jeep and headed to Indian Springs State Park, the oldest state park in the country. It was a beautiful afternoon so the park was packed with visitors when we arrived. Fortunately, one of my two favorite tables was available so we soaked up some sun at the water’s edge while Savanna snapped a few photographs. A short time later, we abandoned our table for a stroll through the park. Spotting a boulder in the lake a few feet from the shore, they waded through the water and posed for pictures.
As we headed to the spring to fill our cups, I remembered the cemetery I discovered several months ago and made a U-turn. I expected their reluctance to explore but was surprised when they seemed as excited as I was about it. We spoke briefly with the couple already there then began our own exploration.
We couldn’t find the name of the cemetery posted anywhere, but the Butts County Genealogical Society (BCGS) refers to it as Indian Springs Primitive Baptist Church Cemetery. A total of 129 graves are in this cemetery, and most of the interments occurred in the mid to late 1800s. The cemetery has suffered the ravages of time and neglect, but I have since learned that members of the Friends of Indian Springs State Park and the BCGS have teamed up to take care of the historic site. But because General William T. Sherman’s troops burned the courthouse in 1864, it’s difficult, they say, to locate former landowners and descendents of those buried in the cemetery.
I don’t know that I have a familial connection to this particular cemetery, but I do have one to the events that occurred at Indian Springs in 1825. It is sad to think, though, that the descendants of those buried in this cemetery are either unaware of its existence, or are no longer around to care for it. But that, I suppose, is life.