Haverhill Cemetery

On January 30, 2003 my friend Susan and I left coastal Virginia, bound for Cincinnati, OH, at about 5:30pm in a blinding rainstorm.  In the rain, darkness, and rush hour traffic it was almost impossible to see the lanes of the expressway.  A quick push on the buttons of the radio yielded the AM radio station in Richmond, which would foretell the ease of the trip ahead.  Unfortunately the station reported a winter storm warning and indicated that VDOT was already hard at work salting the interstates.  As I sailed through the Hampton Roads Tunnel I considered turning around and beginning my trip in better weather the following morning.  But that would have made for a 10-11 hour drive the following day.  With a great deal of apprehension, I continued on.  We had planned to drive only as far as Raphine, off I-81 in the western part of the state.  That trip normally took less than 3 1/2 hours.  Surely we could make it that far.  We continued.  The horrible weather created a driving experience that was quite nerve wracking   By the time we reached the VDOT Rest Area in New Kent County, I was ready for a stop.  We were quite surprised to find the ground there coated with a layer of thin snow.  As we proceeded towards Richmond we immediately understood that it wouldn't be a pleasant trip.  Snow, freezing rain, and sleet was our constant companion.  Hungry and tired we planned to make a stop in Charlottesville.  But the weather and dark camouflaged the exit.  We missed it.  The trip over Afton Mountain was the worst experience of all.  Thick fog shrouded the mountaintop that was being peppered with sleet and snow.  Without the flood lights built into the road we would never have been able to make our way.  By the time we reached Waynesboro we were ready for food and a break from the tension.  The local KFC beckoned.  But we were faced with a bare fare.  They were out of almost  everything.  We ate what was available and continued on.  When we headed South on I-81 we were peppered with more frozen precipitation than we had experienced in the earlier part of the trip.  I was never more grateful to reach the Raphine exit.  It had taken two hours longer than normal.  Our companions pulling off at the exit were the truckers, also taking advantage of the Day's Inn to escape from the horrible road conditions.  The next morning we awoke to find all the area school systems closed.  We sat in the restaurant, overlooking a beautiful pasture, and gazed at what we first thought was fog in the air.  But I noticed the fog appeared to have particles and was stationery.  Once in the car we learned from local radio that it was freezing drizzle.  That was a first for me!  We proceeded into the snow and fog of the mountains of West Virginia.  Amazingly the closer we got to Charleston the better the weather became.  By the time we reached Charleston it was a balmy 40 degrees.  At that moment I decided to proceed with my plans to visit Haverhill Cemetery in Sciota Co, OH.  It was a surprise visit to the ggg-grandfather of my husband, who probably has not had a visitor in quite a long time.  The NAV system of my car was set to find U.S. 23 & U.S. 52 in Portsmouth, OH, the nearest intersection that I had been given in my directions.  We proceeded towards the state line and, much to my amazement, were directed off I-64 on U.S. 52 itself.  That caused quite a change of plans since I must now find the cemetery from the opposite direction without the benefit of any assistance.  My directions indicated that once I was close I should stop and ask for help from a local.  We watched first for the Sciota County line.  Haverhill was known to be near the banks of the Ohio River.  So we also watched for the correct lay of the river.  I hoped for a small sign on the road that might point to the diminutive Haverhill, OH.  Much to my elation that was what we found.  We turned left off U.S. 52 and took a narrow road to the intersection that was Haverhill, OH.  There was a small combo Post Office/Cafe, an apartment building, church, funeral home, a few houses and THE cemetery.  A quick stop at the one window post office yielded the information that this was the only cemetery in Haverhill.  We had found our spot.  Even though the temperature was slightly above freezing, the cold and damp was bitter.  But we had our heavy coats, gloves, cameras, and were glad to be off the treacherous roads.   I spotted the old section of the cemetery and walked on a direct path to the tombstone of Jonathan Benedict Hard.  Our adventure had begun.  Please join me in a visit to Haverhill, OH and the Hard family with the pictures below.