Pioneer graves

In the 19th century, thousands of western-bound travelers died before they reached their destinations in California and Oregon. Some of their graves are preserved, such as the one in the photo. It’s in a tiny pioneer cemetery I noticed off unpaved Robidoux Road in rural western Nebraska. Dunn may have been an emigrant on the Oregon Trail, which parallels the road. Or he or she may have been associated with a party of American Fur Company traders who spent the winter of 1849-50 in the area.

For every visible grave, though, countless more are unmarked and unknown. Sometimes the travelers hid the graves of their deceased to deter scavenging Indians. Often they simply lacked the time, energy or resources for a substantial burial. Growth of trees and foliage obscured many graves that were marked. And, of course, in all but the driest environments wooden monuments gradually deteriorated over the decades.

Whenever I hike near the Oregon Trail or other western migration route, I’m haunted by the realization that the ground I’m walking on might contain the remains of a long-forgotten pioneer. A few unmarked graves could probably be rediscovered through technology. Most, though, are lost forever. For me, the mystery adds to the allure of history.