logo-image

The (Almost) Forgotten History of Bain Cemetery

Lisa Thomas • May 18, 2022

It was February 9, 1981 and Judge Dewey Whitenton, Chancellor for the Chancery Court of Hardin County, Tennessee, was preparing to issue his ruling on a case brought by Vulcan Materials Company against

“INTERESTED PERSONS AS DEFINED BY TCA 46-4-102 CONCERNING THE BAIN GRAVEYARD CEMETERY LOCATED IN THE 2 ND CIVIL DISTRICT OF HARDIN COUNTY, TENNESSEE”.

He had already postponed his ruling from January 27 th so the unnamed interested parties could seek legal counsel in the matter.  And what was the aforementioned matter?

The relocation of an entire cemetery containing 200 graves . . . more or less . . .

The old Bain Cemetery sat perched upon a ridge created by the excavating of limestone and crushed rock by Vulcan Materials.  Approximately 12 miles outside Savannah, Tennessee, as you headed east, the cemetery was begun on or close to land settled by William and Mary Bain in the 1820s.  William died on March 26, 1844 at the age of 76; Mary outlived him by six years, dying in 1850.  Both were buried on or near their property in what would eventually become known as Bain Cemetery.  Family members and an old family Bible confirmed they had eight daughters and five sons, seven of whom never married and eleven of whom were buried in the cemetery.  Jim Bain, a descendant of William and Mary, served as the cemetery’s caretaker until his death in 1939.

From that point on the cemetery was mostly forgotten, its upkeep neglected as Nature began to slowly reclaim the land.  The last known burial had taken place in 1892 with members of the family migrating to nearby Mount Hermon Cemetery beginning in 1894.  We say “last known” because most of the graves were unmarked as to their occupants.  Many had simple slate stones nestled at the head of someone’s final resting place, very few of which had names legibly scrawled across or scratched into the surface.  This lack of identification compounded the difficulty of the move.  Most of the family believed they knew exactly who was buried in the cemetery.  They just didn’t know where.

The judge’s decree on February 9 th gave Vulcan permission to move the entire cemetery a mile or so west as the crow flies to Mount Hermon, but there were conditions that had to be met.  A to-scale drawing of the proposed location had to be submitted for approval.  An inked (emphasis by the court) drawing of the old graveyard showing the existing location of the graves had to be prepared so, once the transfer began, each grave could be positioned as it had been originally.  Small granite markers were to be provided for any graves that were not marked at the time of the move.  And Vulcan was to contribute $3,500.00 to the cemetery association as a permanent endowment for future upkeep of that section.

Vulcan’s plan was to use their own equipment to uncover the existing graves, beginning with removing the top few inches of soil.  The exposed ground would hopefully provide clues as to the exact location of each grave, even though there would be very little left other that rich, black dirt.  State law required that a licensed funeral director oversee the operation; Vulcan contacted Shackelford Funeral Directors in Savannah and Bob Shackelford agreed to serve in that capacity.

Although some of the Bain family disapproved of the move, the court ruled that “said cemetery is unsuitable for continued use as a cemetery and as a resting place for the dead whose remains are buried therein and that further use thereof is inconsistent with due and proper reverence and respect for the memory of such persons”.  Other family members agreed with Judge Whitenton’s assessment of the situation.  There was no good access road to the cemetery and, with Vulcan’s on-going excavation, they worried erosion would eventually destroy the graves of their ancestors. When the work finally began, several of the family were present, carefully watching, hoping to spot some personal items that had survived the years of exposure to the elements . . . items that might help them identify whose grave had been uncovered.

The work was completed in the late summer to early fall of 1982 at which time the family planned to hold a memorial service.  It took well over a week to accomplish the task and when it was done a monument recounting the cemetery’s history was erected at Mount Hermon . . . a monument that marks the entrance to that section of the cemetery . . . a section where only direct descendants of William and Mary McCracken Bain may rest in peace.

 

About the author:  Lisa Shackelford Thomas is a fourth generation member of a family that’s been in funeral service since 1926.  She has been employed at Shackelford Funeral Directors in Savannah, Tennessee for over 40 years and currently serves as the manager there.  Any opinions expressed here are hers and hers alone, and may or may not reflect the opinions of other Shackelford family members or staff.

By Lisa Thomas February 20, 2025
Although every arrangement conference is different, any that involve planning some type of service share a few things in common, such as deciding who will speak, and when and where the service will be held. And at some point in all this planning, the funeral director will ask “Have you thought about music?”
By Lisa Thomas February 13, 2025
It was the spring of 1991 when I was first required to walk through the doors of Henderson Office Supply on Main Street in Henderson, Tennessee. The business was owned by the Casey family—the same Casey family who owned Casey Funeral Home—the same Casey family from whom we had just purchased both.
By Lisa Thomas February 6, 2025
It was December 14, 1799, and George Washington, first president of the United States, lay on his deathbed, the result of male obstinance, a sudden change in the weather, a desire to be prompt which led to dinner in soggy clothes, and medical practices of the day that were useless in the face of whatever illness was attacking his body. Actually, just useless in general.
By Lisa Thomas January 30, 2025
Pia Farrenkopf was a loner, a smart, driven woman of German descent who would be gone for weeks at a time, if not for work, then for the sheer pleasure of exploring the world. Her family grew to expect unanswered phone calls and random postcards from faraway places.
By Lisa Thomas January 23, 2025
Whenever a death occurs there’s always a cleaning out that follows. It may be a house or apartment, a hospital or nursing home room—maybe even just a closet and a drawer—but somewhere the items that represent that person’s life are tucked safely away, waiting for the day when they will pass to the next generation . . . or Goodwill, whichever is deemed appropriate.
By Lisa Thomas January 15, 2025
I find myself sitting in Panera, eating an Apple Chicken Salad and reading “The 7 ½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle”, a Christmas present from my daughter and her family. Only this Panera is located in Vanderbilt Medical Center. Soon I will return to the darkness of Room 7 in the ICU and wait.
By Lisa Thomas January 9, 2025
We were just wrapping up a celebratory family meal (please don’t ask which one; I haven’t the foggiest notion, given the time of year and the prevalence of celebratory meals), when my 15-year-old grandson Wilson stretched his lanky frame in the manner that indicates a satisfaction with the food and a fullness from overindulging, and asked “Mona, (that’s what all the grandchildren call me . . . because my first name is Lisa . . . so, Mona Lisa . . .) “when do I get a copy of the Thomas Cookbook?”
By Lisa Thomas December 27, 2024
As I sit writing this, it is Christmas night—that time when the world grows still and quiet as the celebrations of the day fade into memories.
By Lisa Thomas December 18, 2024
‘Tis the season to be jolly . . . unless it isn’t. Unless it isn’t because Grief has recently come to call and seems quite content to stay, at least for the foreseeable future.
By Lisa Thomas December 12, 2024
I made a pretty big mistake this year. Actually, truth be known, I made a lot of mistakes this year. But this particular one was a doozie.
More Posts
Share by: