Help comes to Hamilton Burial Garden.

Hamilton Burial Garden is in crisis, but last week, the community came together to give the cemetery a Mother’s Day cleanup. Special thanks to Greg Willingham and Brandon Head of Saving Stones Headstone Restoration and Preservation for leading the way. 

Photo by Lisa Y. Henderson, May 2026.

Private First Class Richard T. Baker, stationed at Fort Benning.

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In the 1930 census of Stantonsburg township, Wilson County: farmer Haywood W. Baker, 52; wife Mollie, 43; and children Charles, 17, Hildarene, 16, Jasper, 14, Harold, 13, Mary P., 11, Richard T., 7, and Carlton Baker, 5.

In the 1940 census of Farmville township, Pitt County: farmer Haywood W. Baker, 62, and children Jasper, 22, Tensley James, 26, Richard Thomas, 16, and Carlton Baker, 14, and Mary Joyner, 20. All reported living in Greene County in 1935 except Tensley, who had lived in Goldsboro, Wayne County.

In 1942, Richard Thomas Baker registered for the World War II draft in Wilson. Per his registration card, he was born 24 August 1923 in Stantonsburg; resided at 719 East Green Street, Wilson; his contact was Haywood Baker of the same address; and he worked at G.H.T.M. in Goldsboro, North Carolina.

Image courtesy of Veterans of World War II Wilson County, spiral-bound volume, Wilson County Public Library.

Trinity Burial Society celebrates its anniversary.

Wilson Daily Times, 15 May 1945.

Burial societies are mutual aid organizations that provide funeral expenses and support for members, funded by voluntary subscriptions. Membership in a burial society, with small dues often paid weekly, ensured affordable, dignified burials, especially for families whose incomes were stretched. 

Trinity A.M.E. Zion‘s burial society was founded in 1918, when Vick Cemetery was the primary African-American burial ground in Wilson.

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The obituary of Earnest A. Jones.

Wilson Daily Times, 28 September 1945. 

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In the 1900 census of Old Fields township, Wilson County: farmer Thomas A. Jones, 32; [second] wife Mary, 25; and children Wesley, 11, Earnist, 9, William P., 7, Locus C., 7, Eppie, 3, Bell L., 5, Milbry, 3, and Roxey, 6 months, plus brother Sylvester Jones, 13.

In the 1910 census of Old Fields township, Wilson County: Thomas Jones, 43; wife Ida, 36; and children Earnest, 19, William, 17, Bettie, 15, Milbrey, 12, and Maoma, 21, and grandchildren Wiley J., 3, and Elroy Jones, 3 months.

On 27 February 1914, Ernest Jones, 23, son of Thomas A. and Kissiah Jones, married Lillie Taylor, 18, daughter of Ransom and Sallie A. Taylor, in Wilson township. Missionary Baptist minister N.H. Arrington performed the ceremony.

In 1917, Earnest Jones registered for the World War I draft in Old Fields township, Wilson County. Per his registration card, he was born 12 January 1891 in Wilson County; farmed for Tom Jones; and supported a wife and two children.

In the 1920 census of Old Fields township, Wilson County: Earnest Jones, 29; wife Lillie R., 21; children Levi, 4, Alendsir, 3, and Sallie R., 2; and John, 20 [relationship illegible].

In the 1930 census of Old Fields township, Wilson County: Earnest A. Jones, 39; wife Lillie R., 29; and children Lee V., 14, Alency, 13, Sallie R., 10, William E., 9, Leamon, 7, Beartes, 5, Ester M., 3, Elsie G., 2, and Christain, 9 months.

In the 1940 census of Old Fields township, Wilson County: Ernest Jones, 49; wife Lillie, 41; and children Callie R., 21, William E., 20, Leman, 17, Beatrice, 15, Esther M., 13, Elsie G., 11, Christine, 10, and Otis, 9.

Ernest A. Jones died 25 September 1945 in Old Fields township, Wilson County. Per his death certificate, he was 12 January 1891 in Wilson County to Thomas Ashley Jones and Kizziah Powell; was married to Lillie Ruth Jones; worked as a farmer; and was buried in Jones Cemetery. Wesley Jones was informant.

Lane Street Project: Rountree Cemetery on a May morning.

I don’t talk a whole whole lot about Rountree Cemetery proper, but it is never out of mind. Here it is, near its boundary with Odd Fellows. That’s the City of Wilson’s power pole, punched in in 1997. What you see, festooned in wisteria, effectively belongs to the City by virtue of a “perpetual easement of right-of-way” it obtained the same year. Behind the pole is a pile of headstones. 

Photo by Lisa Y. Henderson, May 2026.

Remembering my father today.

Four years. It seems simultaneously as if he’s been gone forever and just left yesterday. A couple of weeks ago, I was going through a file and found a note I’d scribbled about my dad:

All of us had to be somewhere. The whole family. And we couldn’t be late, so it dismayed me. I was the first one in the shower, and the water was rising around my ankles, and I thought, “Damn.” I heard my mother in the hallway, asking — water was backing up in her bathroom, too.

Let me back up. I was not really first in the shower. My father was. Hours ago. Long before the rest of us even turned over good, and he was out the house, in the yard, probably raking. Breathing the air before everybody else breathed it, as he liked to say.

I was concerned by what’s happening with the drain, but I soldiered on because I was shampooed to the hilt, and when I finally rinsed everything out of all this hair, I cut the water and heard: the plumber.

Before I could even step on the bathmat, the plumber was at the house, with a crew, waiting. The main drain pipe was clogged, but they made quick work of that and were gone. Thirty minutes, tops, from crisis to resolution. Even my mother, who had seen much of this kind of thing over decades of marriage, was amazed: “Red, where’d you find that plumber so quick?” (And on a Saturday.)

“Wait,” he said. “I’m your husband. I ain’t no joke.”

And then: “I can get stuff done. That’s why you married me, girl!”

(A few hours later, when she remarked on the house being a little humid, he said, “You want me to get somebody to get the muggy out, too?,” and they both laughed.)

If you knew my father, you know he had a saying for every circumstance. This fell under:

“You gotta get up. You get up, you can get something done. And you gotta know somebody. I know folk. I been here all my life….”

Rederick Caswell Henderson was born in Wilson, and he died in Wilson, four years ago today. I miss my father bone-deep, but the day seldom passes that I don’t grin ear to ear and give a nod of thanks as one of his aphorisms pops into my head. Rest in power, Daddy.

The obituary of John Anderson Parker.

Wilson Daily Times, 15 May 1940.

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In the 1910 census of Wilson, Wilson township, Wilson County: on Stantonsburg Street, Hanner Parker, 60, widow, factory laborer, and children[?] John, 40, odd jobs, Emma, 16, and Lillie, 4.

In the 1912 Wilson, N.C., city directory: Parker Jno A (c) cooper h 211 E Spencer

In the 1920 Wilson, N.C., city directory: Parker Jno A (c) lab h 600 Stemmery

On 15 April 1921, John A. Parker, 50, of Wilson, son of John S. and Hannah Parker, married Angeline Turner, 43, of Wilson, daughter Solomon and Emma Turner, in Wilson.

In the 1925 Wilson, N.C., city directory: Parker Jno A (c) barber h 111 Spruce

In the 1930 census of Wilson, Wilson township, Wilson County: at 504 Goldsboro Street, life insurance agent John Parker, 56; wife Anzline, 54; and roomer Charley Whitley, 40, guano factory laborer.

In the 1940 census of Wilson, Wilson township, Wilson County: John A. Parker, 68, night watchman at redrying plant; wife Angeline, 65; and roomers James D. George, 10, and Walter Carroll, 38, sews sacks at cotton oil firm.

John A. Parker Jr. died 13 May 1940 in Wilson. Per his death certificate, he was 69 years old; was born in Nash County in John A. Parker; was married to Angelian Parker; lived at 205 East Spruce; and worked as a tobacco factory watchman. He was buried in Rountree Cemetery [probably Vick Cemetery.]