absent.canadian

A few weeks ago I was looking up a death certificate at the local Register of Deeds office, and discovered that death certificates are really interesting.  It is, perhaps, one of the most voyeuristic glimpses into peoples’ lives.

My favorite read as follows, verbatim:

“Cause of death: Severe cranial trauma.  Pickup truck versus pedestrian.  Pickup truck: 1, Pedestrian: 0″

Last night I found myself standing in the middle of a cemetery with my dog’s leash in one hand and a camera in the other. And when I say “night”, I’m talking pitch-black, with only the light of the moon to guide me.

Pagan rituals? Devil worship? Not quite … I was looking for the deceased wife of a favorite blues musician.

No, I’m not weird.

A little context … a few years ago I discovered the music of Blind Boy Fuller, aka Fulton Allen. He recorded a considerable (and fairly important) body of blues music in the 1930’s, and spent most of his adult life in the Durham area. In fact, I found him largely through a historical plaque commemorating some notable local musicians. A photo led to a Wikipedia search, and after listening to some of his music, I immediately started filling up my iPod with his edgy guitar riffs.

The Wikipedia page for Blind Boy Fuller was pretty sad, and I spent some time adding some photos and reorganizing the rather haphazardly collected data. It’s a long way from perfect, but it’ll do for now.

A few weeks ago I was doing some genealogy research at the Durham County Register of Deeds, and decided to look up Fulton Allen’s death certificate. It wasn’t too hard to find, and it clarified a few details (including the cause of death) that were ambiguous in the Wiki entry.

It also showed that he was married.

Fulton died at the young age of 32 (in fact, he was only a few weeks older than I am when he passed away), but it’s possible that his wife could still be alive. And anyone who knows me knows that I’m just the sort of person to dig into the past like that. So off I merrily went to find the Cora Allen, wife of Blind Boy Fuller.

Sadly, the Social Security Death Index turned up two Cora Allen’s from Durham, North Carolina; one died in 1991 and the other died in 2006. I knew that Fulton’s wife had been born in North Carolina, and hoped that a death certificate would give me some sort of positive match.

I found the death certificate for the Cora that died in 2006; she was born in South Carolina, so we could safely rule her out. I couldn’t locate a birth certificate the Cora who died in 1991, but I did find a cemetery listing in Durham for my 1991 Cora.

A quick call to the cemetery office gave me a section and plot number, and I merrily went on my way last night to find her gravestone.

And let me tell you – there’s no worse downer (when you’re looking for a gravestone) than to discover that the grave is unmarked. I experienced this dreaded feeling back in 2002 when I drove to Philadelphia to find my long-lost great-grandmother who died of tuberculosis in 1926; thinking that the only earthly reminder of Cora’s existence is a little cast number plate in the ground brought back the same feelings of indignity.

Blind Boy Fuller’s gravesite is unmarked; in fact, the land that the cemetery was on is now a playground for a daycare. I hate the idea that his gravemarker is lost forever, but there’s some comfort knowing that little kids are traipsing around the graves of countless corpses.

And there’s gotta be a few good blues songs in this story.