(The following story was found among some of the older cemetery documents. Its origin and historical accuracy are unconfirmed.)

Friday, May 8, 1871
McPherson Home, Waller County, Texas

With the setting sun a warm, humid breezed floated through the bedroom. Both windows were open, allowing in what breeze might stir the still air. Even the bed had been moved to just under the window but it didn’t matter anymore. The air in the room would stay stuffy but the odor of death would soon pass. For now, no one wanted to move and disturb the peace they felt filling the room.

I will lie down and sleep in peace…Ps 4:8

The collar of her dress had been opened for the coolness and Julia Ann’s neck glistened with sweat and tears. She still held the baby’s hand and refused to wipe them away. She knew exactly when death came in stealing little Oliver away. She felt the release of life and looking up to Oliver’s face, she saw his chubby little face turned to its side and the pain gone at last and relaxed as if in sleep. Julia Ann would never hold her little, fair-haired baby again but little Oliver could now sleep in peace.

Quietly easing out to the porch, Enoch felt empty…like that ol’ tree out there, hollow on the inside. Glancing across the dry, parched yard he wondered if it would ever rain again. The spring rains were early and now the earth needed a fresh drenching. He watched as a bird rose from the railing of the garden fence, the garden where Julia Ann spent most mornings with the baby alongside. She took such pleasure in her garden. Beautiful soft yellow and green hues of the summer squash and beans were hanging on the vines, waiting for someone to come pick them, no one would come.

Turning to go back inside, he saw him. His breath caught in his chest and hurt like a burning inside. He stepped toward the garden to take him back inside. What was he doing out here in this heat, and in the garden of all places? That little stinker!

Oliver smiled and ducked his little head, looking at him sideways with that funny, shy grin, the one he always gave Daddy when he saw him coming towards him. Enoch reached down to lift him up, then he was gone. He was gone.

Enoch stood alone in the garden, afraid someone might have seen him reach down for someone who was not there. He looked back to the house, seeing Harry his friend and neighbor heading his way. Enoch turned and headed for the woods. He knew little Oliver was gone.

The Springers arrived as soon as word reached them on their grandson’s death. They knew they would have to rush to build the casket for the burial. Knowledge of the baby’s death by the fever would make it necessary that he be buried immediately to save the spread of the fever. They wanted him buried right there, near them.