I live in a pretty town called Lincoln near a state park that at some point was given by the Olney family to the State of Rhode Island. The park has a pond with a swimming beach, mountain bike trails, picnic areas, and an historic cemetary with Olney graves that date back before the revolutionary war.
I often make the excuse of going for a bike ride just so I can spend some quiet time in the Olney cemetary. I’m not morbid, but I love cemetaries. They’re peaceful, respectful, and so uniquely human – place to honor the memories of our loved ones. The time I spend in cemetaries gives me a chance to treasure my life, grieve for my losses, and ponder my own mortality - my own way of not going gently.
The gravestone in the picture dates 1871, but that’s not the oldest in the cemetary. I photographed another but it was too weathered to read in a photo. It says:
Sacred
To The Memory of Mr.
OBADIAH OLNEY
Who departed this life
March 12, 1798 aged
87 years, 3 months
28 days
Grandson of Thomas Olney
one of the fiſt founders
of the ſtate of Rhode Island
That funny “ſ”character is called the long S. Thomas Olney was one of the lucky compatriots of Roger Williams, “invited” by the Puritans to leave Massachusettes. I guess the Olney’s have been Baptists for a long, long time.
ps. a shout out to my cousin Kim! Thanks for the links! How’s the website going?
In case you are wondering which Musketeer you are, you can always take 
