African-American cemetery

Lane Street Project: Old Eastview Cemetery, Rome, Georgia.

Though I will always be of Wilson, I have lived in Atlanta nearly all of my adult life. It is very much “home” for me, too, and is a bottomless well of African-American culture and history that often informs the way I process research and work related to Black Wide-Awake and Lane Street Project.

I’ve begun visiting metro Atlanta’s historic African-American burial grounds. How have they weathered exploding population growth, shifting demographics, outmigration, land loss, and other pressures? The tenth in a series — Old Eastview Cemetery in Rome, Georgia.

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Old Eastview Cemetery lies southeast of downtown Rome. Dating to at least 1919, the 16-acre privately owned cemetery holds more than 750 graves and is sporadically maintained with volunteer efforts.

A small sign at the intersection of Callier Springs Road and Lincoln Street signal Old Eastview’s location.

Monuments to the cemetery’s many veterans cluster near the front section.

Japanese stiltgrass is rampant and English ivy chokes nearly every tree.

Several of the headstones were locally made. I didn’t see any Eldren Bailey-made markers, but I didn’t venture deep into the cemetery.

Photos by Lisa Y. Henderson, August 2026.

 

Lane Street Project: O’Neal Cemetery, Hampton, Georgia.

Though I will always be of Wilson, I have lived in Atlanta nearly all of my adult life. It is very much “home” for me, too, and is a bottomless well of African-American culture and history that often informs the way I process research and work related to Black Wide-Awake and Lane Street Project.

I’ve begun visiting metro Atlanta’s historic African-American burial grounds. How have they weathered exploding population growth, shifting demographics, outmigration, land loss, and other pressures? The ninth in a series — O’Neal African Methodist Episcopal Church Cemetery in Hampton, Georgia.

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During all the time I’ve been in Atlanta, I’ve never been to Atlanta Motor Speedway. Getting to O’Neal required that I skirt the racetrack’s hulking oval on an access road that dead-ended into Lower Woolsey Road. Flaggers controlled that intersection, the first glimpse of the massive construction project that has the cemetery in a chokehold. Traffic was being funneled through a single lane that crept past the site of what will be yet another enormous data center in Henry County.

After a half-mile or so, I spotted O’Neal A.M.E. just inside the tree edge. The church was founded during the early Reconstruction years by freedmen, but this building — or its shell, anyway — may date somewhat later. I’m not a student of African-American vernacular building practices, but it appears to be constructed primarily of a cement stucco over an irregular wall built from chunks of quartz and other fieldstone. There is also evidence of bricks used to form lintels over the windows and to outline a faux arch over the front entrance. Without doubt, O’Neal was built with the congregation’s collective labor, using materials ready to hand. The project wraps around O’Neal cemetery on three sides and possibly encroaches on undocumented burials. Honor Thy Roots Cemetery Preservation, Inc., a local 501(c)(3), is spearheading efforts to protect this sacred space.

O’Neal A.M.E. Church, front elevation. A few charred bits of wood found in a rear addition to the main structure suggest a devastating fire. 

Through the front window looking back toward the nave. There are no internal structures remaining.

The interior of the church.

The front portico, sealed with modern cinderblock.

Were the parallel lines visible at the top of this image made by a notched trowel?

A chunk of quartz encased in mortar in an exterior wall.

Across the road: what I came for. I scrambled up a five-foot embankment to gain the forest floor. Ahead of me, the remaining headstones of O’Neal church cemetery leaned and listed. The oldest marked grave dates to 1871; the last to the 1950s.

Most of the headstones I saw were professionally made and impressive. O’Neal clearly was a congregation with prosperous families.

Thomas A. Fortson’s monument.

“Prof. Thomas A. Fortson A.M. Ph.D. Was Born Jan. 1, 1854 And Died May 13, 1901. He Was Charitable.” Georgia native Fortson is listed as a teacher in the 1900 census of Nashville, Tennessee. He taught at Walden University, formerly known as Central Tennessee College, which housed Meharry Medical College.

Rows of head and foot stones.

Ceasar Fortson Mảr. 29, 1830 June 30, 1900 Gone, But Not Forgotten. Fortson appears in the 1900 census of nearby Woolsey district, Spalding County.

William G. Alexander. Aug. 11, 1902 May 17, 1909 A little time on earth he spent. Till God for him His angel sent. (In the background, you can just see the orange safety fencing separating O’Neal cemetery from the data center construction site, which wraps around it on three sides.)

A broken vault cover.

Y’all know I love a vernacular headstone. There’s a cross carved into the top section; then 1925 in the middle; then OLLIE, a pierced heart, BORN OCT. 3 1900, [illegible]. 

An ornamental wire fence outlining a family plot.

Fieldstone markers.

Photos by Lisa Y. Henderson, July 2026.

Lane Street Project: Colbert Cemetery, Calhoun, Georgia.

Though I will always be of Wilson, I have lived in Atlanta nearly all of my adult life. It is very much “home” for me, too, and is a bottomless well of African-American culture and history that often informs the way I process research and work related to Black Wide-Awake and Lane Street Project.

I’ve begun visiting metro Atlanta’s historic African-American burial grounds. How have they weathered exploding population growth, shifting demographics, outmigration, land loss, and other pressures? The eighth in a series — Colbert (formerly Calvary) Cemetery in Calhoun, Georgia.

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Colbert Cemetery, also known as Calvary, lies at the top of a hill at the end of steep road on the edge of Calhoun, Georgia. Calhoun, a town of about 16,000, is in far north Georgia on land that once held the capital of the Cherokee Nation. As is typical of the area, its African-American population is low — only about 7%. Early in the twentieth century, this percentage dropped from about 15% with the exodus created by the Great Migration.

PLEASE NOTE: Colbert Cemetery is a private cemetery accessible only by a privately owned road. Those wishing to visit must obtain permission from the Gordon County Civic Club, the nonprofit organization formed by descendants to protect those buried at the site. 

In 1841, Atlanta founder and railroad tycoon Richard Peters bought 4000 acres in Gordon County. He worked 2500 acres with enslaved African Americans and set aside a burial ground for them on this site. About 1910, Peters’ children deeded the cemetery to trustees for use by Calhoun’s black community, many of whom were descended from people enslaved at Peters Plantation.

The Porches are one of the largest families buried at Colbert. Both J.L. and Sina Porch were born enslaved. 

You know I love a vernacular grave marker. Here are two of a set of three similar “stones.”

These embossed markers, likely provided by a funeral home, mostly date from the 1930s to 1950s.

One of a relatively few fieldstone markers.

Seventy miles up the road from Atlanta, an Eldren Bailey marker.

The cemetery was active as recently as 2016 and is a much-visited space.

Squire Frix appears as a ten year-old farm laborer in the 1870 federal census of the Town of Calhoun living as part of the household of white insurance agent Joseph W. Malone.

Like Odd Fellows Cemetery, Colbert is dotted with yucca plants marking grave sites.

Unusually, several bronze military markers were installed upright, rather than flats designed.

Caroline Heard was about 75 years old when she died in 1921.

In the valley below, new construction wraps around the base of the hill. Gordon County Civic Club is engaged in protracted litigation against the developer, asserting that the subdivision may encroach on hidden graves.

Photos by Lisa Y. Henderson, May 2026.

The work of cemetery citizens.

Listen to this NPR story on our cemetery citizen counterparts in Connecticut here. (Shoutout to Adam Rosenblatt!)

SCOTT SIMON, HOST:

A lot of people may spend Saturday mornings snacking with friends or running errands – or joining us here. But some head to a different location – a neglected cemetery. Meg Dalton reports from one cemetery in New Haven, Connecticut, where volunteers are trying to breathe new life into this space.

SHERILL BALDWIN: Hi.

LAURA LYNN: Hi.

BALDWIN: Are you here for the cleanup?

LYNN: I am.

BALDWIN: If you want to just park so that we’re not blocking, that would be great.

LYNN: OK.

MEG DALTON: Sherill Baldwin walks down a leafy hill. Before her are rows and rows of white stones sticking out of the ground, about the size of a sheet of paper.

BALDWIN: I refer to them as, like, baby teeth because they are not coming in straight, necessarily.

DALTON: Those baby teeth are actually gravestones in a small potter’s field called Blake Street Cemetery.

BALDWIN: It’s where poor people were buried when they couldn’t afford it themselves.

DALTON: The cemetery is small, about an acre. The gravestones are obscured by long grass, overgrown weeds, fallen trees and a lot of trash.

BALDWIN: So I have bags and sticks for picking up things.

DALTON: This morning, Baldwin and two other regular volunteers are here for a litter cleanup at the cemetery.

BALDWIN: And I think the place to start is probably – maybe around the fence line, if you don’t see anything in the side…

GIULIA GAMBALE: OK.

BALDWIN: … And then along sort of the wooded area.

DALTON: Giulia Gambale has a bag in one hand and a trash grabber in the other.

GAMBALE: What is this? Triscuit? Oreo? Trident. See, they like having fresh breath, but just, you know, pick up after yourself.

DALTON: Gambale walks over to the side of the cemetery and spots something unexpected.

GAMBALE: Looks like somebody’s homework is over here (laughter). Little bit of homework. That goes in the bag. What else?

(SOUNDBITE OF UNDERGROWTH RUSTLING)

GAMBALE: I don’t know what this is.

(SOUNDBITE OF UNDERGROWTH RUSTLING)

GAMBALE: More homework?

DALTON: Another volunteer, Laura Lynn, already has a full trash bag.

LYNN: I found a lot of candy wrappers, potato chip bag wrappers, a empty bottle, an empty can, piece of glass that I just picked up.

DALTON: Today, they’re mostly picking up small pieces of trash. But at past litter cleanups, they found air conditioners, even tires. Neglected cemeteries like this one are common in many parts of the United States. But people like Lynn, Gambale and Baldwin are trying to bring new life back to these spaces.

They’re part of a growing social movement of so-called cemetery citizens. That’s a term coined by Adam Rosenblatt. He’s an anthropologist and author of a book about cemetery citizens. According to him, cemetery citizens are people working to restore and honor systemically neglected cemeteries. Some volunteers do this work for personal reasons, like Gambale.

GAMBALE: My dad actually worked in a cemetery for, like, his whole life. And I just, like, learned to really love and respect cemeteries – the history, the architecture.

DALTON: Baldwin says every person’s motivations are unique, but they have a shared goal – to reinsert these spaces into the social fabric.

BALDWIN: You know, everybody’s got different things and different ways of honoring those that have passed. Cemeteries are definitely sacred places.

DALTON: Baldwin hopes Blake Street Cemetery becomes a place not only for the dead but for the living.

For NPR News, I’m Meg Dalton in New Haven, Connecticut.

SIMON: And thanks to Luis de Leon (ph) for recording bird song for that story.

(SOUNDBITE OF J^P^N’S “PRIDEFULL”) Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.

Lane Street Project: the season’s last service day.

The workday’s shoutouts:

  • to the veterans who visited Odd Fellows Cemetery Saturday morning to place flags for Memorial Day;
  • to Will Kinsler, who came back with friends Haley of Fayetteville and Savannah and Dustin of greater Raleigh. They spent a full shift hacking new wisteria from trees and clearing the tree line to aid our mowing efforts; and
  • to the inimitable Senior Force — Castonoble Hooks, R. Briggs Sherwood, and William Hooks — our foot soldiers month in and month out.

Finally, a resounding thank you to everyone who came out to help this season. Each of you made a tremendous difference in the reclamation of Odd Fellows Cemetery, and we are honored that you chose to spend a Saturday morning with us when you could have been doing anything else.

Big things are coming, and we hope you’ll continue to support us as we put the generous gifts we’ve received to work. Though our official cleanup season has ended, we may call on you for specially scheduled service days this summer or fall related to upcoming projects. Thanks again!

Photos by Lisa Y. Henderson, May 2026.

Lane Street Project: Flat Rock A.M.E. Church, Fayetteville, Georgia.

Though I will always be of Wilson, I have lived in Atlanta nearly all of my adult life. It is very much “home” for me, too, and is a bottomless well of African-American culture and history that often informs the way I process research and work related to Black Wide-Awake and Lane Street Project.

I’ve begun visiting metro Atlanta’s historic African-American burial grounds. How have they weathered exploding population growth, shifting demographics, outmigration, land loss, and other pressures? The seventh in a series — Flat Rock African Methodist Episcopal Church Cemetery in Fayetteville, Georgia.

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Flat Rock A.M.E. Church, a few miles southeast of downtown Fayetteville, is believed to be the oldest congregation in Fayette County. Like many early churches in Wilson County, Flat Rock also offered schooling for the community.

Its cemetery lies adjacent to the church, with the newest section closest to the building.

In 2025, this historical marker was erected in Fayetteville’s historically white town cemetery to commemorate the Union Benevolent Aid Society.

Photos by Lisa Y. Henderson, May 2026.

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.

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.