During my recent visit to the Grasslands, I came upon Gray Butte Cemetery. I stopped and walked through the small pioneer cemetery wondering who lay rest there. I immediately came across tombstones, small ones, that had newborns and infants names on them. Some just said 'Newborn' with no name. The dates were the late 1800's. There are adults, families buried together and some that had no family. This is an active cemetery, meaning that folks are still being laid to rest as recent as 2019.
As I strolled through the cemetery paying my respects to each person resting there, I began to piece together my thoughts of how times were when those folks were on this earth. I know the weather can be brutal during winters in this area. I also know that summers are very hot and dry. There were no Pioneer Medical Doctors. But these folks that laid to rest here did not seem to care. They took the chance to try and raise their families with very bad odds of success. I wondered why? Why not seek safer lands to raise cattle? Why not seek safer lands to farm? Then I stood and looked at the scenery around me. The grasslands were flowering. The mountains were standing tall. The smell of sage brush was in the air. I then could understand why someone would take risks to be in such a remote area. It was the beauty surrounding me.
As I strolled through the cemetery and just before exiting, a tombstone caught my eye. It was not old. It was not small. It was a large stone with etched designs on it. Something drew me to it. It was like someone was whispering to me, come see. I turned around carefully approached the stone. I could tell this was a newer resident of the cemetery. April 30, 2019. The stone was not weathered and was shiny. As I studied the stone, writing on it brought my focus. What I read nearly brought me to tears. All of my life I have loved nature. The animals. The landscapes. The oceans. etc. 'Stop and Pause.... Listen to our friends in nature. We might find the answers to life.' Was etched on the stone. The many years I have stopped and paused in nature, I didn't know why. Or I might have, but it just didn't make sense to me. But now it does. Thank you Mr Bailey.
Michael Eugene Bailey left nature on April 30th, 2019. When I returned home, I researched a bit on the cemetery and Mr Bailey. I was unable to find much details about the cemetery, but another blogger that visited there posted their experience. During my research, I found an obituary for Mr Bailey. He lived what appears to be a long fulfilling life. He passed at the age of 81. The obituary read ' Mike lived life on his own terms and was a friend to everyone he met.' 'He enjoyed history, and for many years, volunteered his time to maintain rural cemeteries in Oregon, capturing many memories through the lens of his camera. A self-taught photographer, he mastered the art of landscape photography and shared those images with all who knew him.' He didn't have family in his life in Central Oregon. But he had many friends and those were his family. I would loved to have met Mr Bailey and called him my friend. I could not find any sites on the Internet, where he posted any pictures. I presume he had taken many pictures using film.
I hope that Mr Bailey found the answers to life. And that someday, he will share those with me.
You can read his full obituary here.
More history of the Crooked River National Grasslands Here.
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| Mr Michael Eugene Bailey |
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