Always More Work to be Done
Rufus Sonnyman Jackson & Pud Galvin
September 26, 2017-This past weekend I had the privilege of attending the grave marker dedication ceremony for Hall of Famer Pud Galvin, held at Calvary Cemetery in Pittsburgh. Galvin’s original stone, placed when he died in 1902, bore only his name and no other information. It had two cracks running the full length of it from top to bottom. When I took over the 19th Century Baseball Grave Marker Project from the late Bob Gregory, I knew early on that Galvin was going to be a target. I am pleased with the finished project, which includes a ceramic image of Galvin originally painted by famed artist Dick Perez.
Over twenty members of the Galvin clan were on hand to celebrate, including his great-great granddaughter Amanda Nespoli Minardi, who was my family liaison throughout the process of installing the stone. She, and all of the Galvins, were both gracious and grateful.
Also on hand was Pittsburgh Pirates President Frank Coonelly, who addressed the gathered crowd. He then invited a number of the Galvins, along with myself and SABR Forbes Field Chapter President George Skornickle, to that night’s game. The family was introduced on the field prior to the start and then we all watched the contest from his personal suite at PNC Park. I had the pleasure of spending virtually the entire game next to Mr. Coonelly, with our conversation topics ranging from The Hall Ball, to protective netting in the stands, to the cost of college for our children. I also mentioned that I thought a squad as old as his really needed a team historian. A fine evening topped with an 11-6 Pirates win.
A few weeks ago, when I knew I was going to Pittsburgh, I decided I was going to also visit the grave of Rufus “Sonnyman” Jackson while I was there. Jackson was a co-owner of the Homestead Grays and I had written his biography for the SABR publication, Bittersweet Goodbye, which tells the stories of the participants of the 1948 Negro League World Series. While researching him I had become fascinated with the charismatic entrepreneur/criminal (read the book for his whole story) and I wanted to pay my respects before I left town. He is buried at Homestead Cemetery, the same place as his business partner and Hall of Famer Cum Posey.
I had first visited Homestead in August of 2011, when I photographed Posey for The Hall Ball. It is an unusual cemetery in that a large percentage of the graves are located within the sides of a steep hillside, making it difficult to even access some of the locations. When I was originally there it was well-maintained and respectable, despite being in one of the poorer areas of Pittsburgh. There is a Civil War monument there, built in 1891 and “Erected to the Memory of the Country’s Defenders.” The ethnic background of those buried there is varied, from Swedish to German to Native American. Black and white lie side by side on the 35 acres of Homestead.
It is also the final resting place of three men who died during the “Battle of Homestead.” On July 6, 1892, a labor strike by employees of Carnegie Steel turned deadly when Pinkerton Detectives, hired by Andrew Carnegie and Henry Clay Frick to end the dispute, clashed with striking workers. Seven people died. Three of them, John Morris, Joseph Sotack and Silas Wain, rest at Homestead. Oscar and Tony winner Mark Rylance is actively developing a show about the battle.
Having trouble sleeping after the festivities on Saturday, I began to do a little research to see if anyone else was buried at Homestead that I would want to visit. The Homestead Grays were one of the most successful and historically noteworthy teams in Negro Leagues history. There was a decent chance that one or two of those who donned the uniform stayed in the area after their playing days were over. Rather than finding a list of other notables at the cemetery, I discovered something far more unsettling.
In July of 2015, roughly four years after I last visited Homestead, the cemetery filed for bankruptcy. According to court documents, the unsettled debt totaled less than $10,000 on a property that was valued at $504,000. Despite this seemingly surmountable amount on a property with such value, according to the lawyer who represented the cemetery the cost of perpetual care was too much for them to manage. Homestead stopped taking new orders for burials and simultaneously left people who had already purchased plots to their own devices when it came time to actually bury their loved ones. For a short time, a chain was strung across the entrance to the cemetery for fear of potential lawsuits that would have no direct defendant, since there was no longer a board to answer any claims. People were forbidden from even entering the cemetery to visit. The chain was later removed after sufficient public outrage.
For the next two years, Homestead was maintained by a group of volunteers, called Help Homestead Cemetery. They did their best to care for the 35 acres, including its imposing hillsides that your average push mower would struggle to handle. Then, just a month ago, the group disbanded, citing too few volunteers and too much work to landscape the site. Now, gravesites are maintained solely by the loved ones who come to visit. The rest of the cemetery has been given over to mother nature. A number of the graves have already been swallowed by the tall grass and encroaching soil. If there is no resolution by next summer, much of the cemetery will be impossible to traverse by the height of the season.
The symbolism was not lost on me. On a weekend in which we celebrated the long overdue stone of one Hall of Famer, another is at risk of being absorbed by the earth. I have taken on the role of head of the 19th Century Baseball Grave Marker Project because I believe in its mission. It is impossible to encapsulate the story of a life in eight square feet of granite, but it’s the best system we have come up with to assuage the grief of those left behind and assure future family and historians of a corporeal link to the past. There is a certain Sisyphusian quality to the job, however. For every grave I help to mark, another one in need seems to emerge.
It took some hunting, but I eventually found the gravesite of Jackson. He’s buried in one of the flatter sections of the cemetery and his grave was recently mowed. His stone is understated, especially considering that at the time of his death he had a decent amount of wealth. His wife, Helen Mae, lived another 41 years after Jackson died. She is buried by his side with an identically designed stone.
I look forward to returning to Pittsburgh. I really am fond of the visually striking town. I hope when I do, I’m able to visit Cum and Sonnyman, and that their stones can be found beneath the ever growing earth that threatens to engulf these final reminders.
