Unification Cemetery
The misadventure of Ralph Owens.
On the evening of September 7, 1991, trustee Ralph Owens, an overweight but jovial man who everyone liked, walked away from his work assignment on the grounds of the Pines County Detention Center. His absence was not noticed until it came time to count the inmates, before the dinner meal was served, at 6:00 PM. The alarm was raised, and the search began. The search ended at the Unification Cemetery.
Unification Cemetery, also called the Alliance or Hebron cemetery, lies on the western outskirts of Greenhope in Pines County. It is on the right side of Highway 80, about four miles out of town. In the words of a local elder, “It’s called Alliance or Unification because we’re all going to be allied in death, and we’re all going to be unified in death. Why do they call it Hebron? Well, Hebron is a sacred place in the Bible where the patriarchs and their wives were buried. It’s already kind of the name of a graveyard, so it fits too.”
I visited Unification Cemetery in the late 1990s, but before I went I researched it at the library (we didn’t have cell phones or internet in those days) and found that there were approximately 1000 burials in the graveyard, many unmarked, and the cemetery itself consists of an area that is about eight acres. One thing I noticed immediately is that the cemetery does not sit on the grounds of a church. In fact, there are no churches in that particular area and I later discovered that the burial ground is not associated with any church. The cemetery has barbed wire fencing around it, except for the main gate, which is metal. The main gate is decorated with a simple cross. A small metal sign holds the words, “Hebron Cemetery.” Another sign, inside the grounds, reads “Unification.”
The cemetery, which has burials dating back to 1840, has some interesting and unique features. In the center, there is an earthen mound upon which there are four marble benches but no graves. It is clearly an unmarked (or perhaps unrecognized) Native American burial mound, and so it is obvious that it is the oldest burial (or burials, since grave mounds often contain multiple burials) in the cemetery. Additionally, there is a crypt which looks very much like a reproduction of Herodian era architecture. I speculate that this could be where the name “Hebron” originated, since there is a well known structure in the biblical town of Hebron that contains a wall built on the orders of King Herod. This wall, which surrounds “The Cave Of The Patriarchs,” and the crypt have almost identical features. The crypt is small and shared by a husband and wife of the Birkham family. His name was Boss (truly) and her name was Addie.
If the cemetery primarily serves those who were poor in life, some of the burials suggest otherwise. Other than the previously mentioned crypt, I counted 14 other above ground crypts. Some of them were quite old, dating to the 1850s, and some I found to be a bit unnerving, especially since I was alone and I do not care much for graveyards. One crypt featured nothing but the names of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Newman and the representation of a standing skeleton. I presumed that the skeleton had something to do with death, and perhaps the deaths of the Newmans’ in particular. According to the information on the crypt, they both died on the same day in 1870.
Other crypts and graves bothered me for other reasons. I could see through the gate of one crypt—it was locked—and saw that the inside was deteriorating. I could see the weathered end of one of the coffins. A handful of others had stairs leading downward, but I saw to my horror that they were filled with water. A few crypts, though, were pleasing to the eye. That being said, I was mindful of the fact that the outside might be beautiful, but the inside is full of dead men’s bones.
After I had walked around the cemetery for awhile, I went back to my SUV which was parked just off the highway on one of the two lanes that lead to the graveyard. Here I drank some more of my rapidly cooling coffee and ate my lunch, which consisted of two delicious but already cold chili dogs and some french fries. When I finished eating, I backed down the lane and drove to the opposite side of the cemetery, where I continued my exploration.
Some of the simpler graves were disturbing as well. Graves of infants and toddlers ringed by quartz crystals, toys, and dolls: I didn’t spend much time at these sad memorials, as they radiated a striking sense of loss. Other sad grave sites consisted of nothing more than a wooden post as a marker: No name, nothing; known only to God. A few of the grave markers had coins on them. A few other graves were troubling as well. The cemetery lawn was well manicured and it seemed like the place was in order, but this was not always the case. Some of the graves were collapsing downward, often as much as two feet or more. They were invariably filled with water, which made me shudder involuntarily more than once. I’m not sure who maintains the graveyard, a cemetery association perhaps, but someone needs to get out there and tend to the property.
The graves that only featured large concrete slabs were quite disturbing. I think they bothered me just as much as any of the others did. You couldn’t always read the information that was chiseled onto them, and I found myself wondering if those slabs were once a fad or if they were keeping grave-robbers out—or keeping something in the grave. I also found myself cringing when I walked along the fence line that was the cemetery boundary marker. Some of those concrete slabs were positioned outside of the cemetery. Was this done on purpose? I didn’t know, and I still don’t know. <"outside" in ITALICS>
Around 8:00 PM a citizen with the neighborhood watch notified the Pines County Sheriff’s Office that they had seen a man running quickly into the woods just off Highway 80. The man had been wearing an orange jumpsuit, which was the standard uniform of a jail inmate. In moments, deputies were rushing to the scene and a K-9 was en route.
The deputies had been driving with lights and sirens, but they turned everything off before they ever arrived at the location. They were silent when they got there, but it was too late. Ralph Owens had already heard the sirens off in the distance. He ran.
The story of Ralph Owens and its associated folklore was the reason for my visit to the Unification Cemetery all those years ago. There is a tale told by the locals about the graveyard. The story goes that if one travels the length of the cemetery, on foot, he will lose the ability to breathe and suffocate within seconds. That’s the end of the story: No elaboration, no examples, and no reason for the occurrence. Again, it only happens when someone is on foot; otherwise, cars would crash every time someone drove along that stretch of the highway. Has anyone tested the truth of this myth? A reasonable question might be, “Who would want to?” That being said, it may be possible that it was tested, unwittingly, by one Ralph Owens.
Ralph Owens ran as though he was fleeing for his 280 pound life. He remained in the woods and continued to travel away from Pines County, heading west. By this time the police had exited their vehicles and were in pursuit, calling for Ralph to stop.
It is not known when he encountered the cemetery or what may have happened when he ran by it. What is known, however, is that he was discovered, dead, in the woods behind the graveyard and just beyond its western boundary. It was a sad and extreme price to pay over warrants from unpaid tickets. To this day, no one has any idea as to why Ralph attempted to “go on the run” from the authorities.
Dr. Emmit Hawthorne, the Pines County coroner (and an amateur historian), pronounced Ralph’s cause of death as cardiac arrest, due to his obesity. He was taken into the care of the Tenby funeral home, and the likable man’s funeral was well attended. A number of police officers were present during the family visitation night, and at the memorial service as well.
The funeral home director, acting upon Dr. Hawthorne’s advice, took great pains to treat Ralph as though he was a wealthy client. They arranged for Mr. Owens to have a new suit, a dress shirt with a very high collar and, naturally, a gentlemanly tie. Ralph never dressed that way, of course, but something had to be done to disguise the ligature marks around his neck.
Ralph Owens didn’t have a heart attack. Someone—or something, had choked the life out of him. He was choked so violently that the mortuary cosmetologist pronounced herself unable to give him a lifelike appearance.
Ralph’s casket was briefly opened for visitation night, but it was closed rather quickly. The funeral service was held the next day. It was a somewhat hasty service, as it was starting to rain. When the mourners left, Ralph’s earthly remains were lowered into the grave. He was laid to rest in the Unification Cemetery.
The End.
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