Listing Through Life

When the Lincoln’s lived at Goosenest Prairie (see previous post), there was a small community a mile up the road named Farmington. There never was much to the town, and most of what there was is now gone. One house that remains was the home of Reuben Moore who was married to Matilda Hall, Abraham Lincoln’s stepsister. The couple lived here with five children from previous marriages and a sixth child they had together.

When Abraham was elected President, he made a trip to Coles County to say goodbye to his family. His stepmother, Sarah Bush Lincoln, was staying with her daughter at the Moore home. The President-elect visited her at this house, and all the local folks gathered for a dinner in his honor.

As you can see from my photos, the house is not in very good shape. It was locked (I checked), and unfurnished. When I looked through a gap in the curtains of one window, all I saw was a sign on the floor that said, “Open Today.” Just up the road from the Moore home is the Freeman home, which was also there when Lincoln visited Farmington. It was in much better shape, but it also “felt” like nobody lived there.

After saying goodbye to his stepmother, Lincoln visited his father’s grave at the nearby Shiloh Cemetery (since renamed Thomas Lincoln Cemetery)

The Shiloh Presbyterian Church is no longer in use. I read somewhere that the state of Illinois wishes to buy it and turn it into a museum for the cemetery. The word “Lincoln” appears on a plaque beneath the front window. I was a bit confused here. When I walked through a gate back by the red car, I saw a grave marker inside a small fenced-in area.

It was clearly identified as Thomas’ grave.

But I’d read that Sarah Bush Lincoln was also buried here, so I went searching for her marker and found a second fenced-in area with a monument to both Thomas and Sarah and smaller headstones for each.

Matilda (her grave is visible just behind the fenced in area in the above photo) is buried next to her first husband. Her marriage with Reuben Moore was not a happy one.

We drove 10 miles south of Charleston to see the farm where Abraham Lincoln’s father and step-mother lived from 1840 until they died (Thomas in 1851 and Sarah in 1869). We arrived half an hour after the park opened, but there were no other tourists. There were several workers building the stairs in front of the visitor center, which was closed.

Nobody paid the slightest attention to us as we walked through the construction area to the Sargent Farm. The Sargents had little to do with the Lincolns. Their farm, which was modern for its time, was located about 10 miles away. It was moved to the park in 1985 to show the contrast between the successful Sargents and the poorer Lincolns. The walkway leading to their farm was all torn up, and piles of building supplies and rubbish were scattered around. Nobody was around, and the grass was long — in other words, it didn’t look open either.

We wandered over to the Lincoln farm.

The original cabin was dismantled and taken to the Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1892, then somehow lost. A replica was built on the original foundation in 1935. Here’s what the original looked like in 1883 and what the reconstruction looks like now.

There were supposed to be costumed interpreters, but nobody connected with the park was anywhere to be seen. (I was told later that this was due to budget cuts.) Another tourist couple were wandering around. The woman tried the door of the cabin and found it unlocked. She pushed it open about three inches (until it stuck) and peered inside. After she walked off, I went over to take a look. I lifted the door as I pushed, and it opened easily.

Now of course it wasn’t supposed to be open. The park wouldn’t want people wandering around inside, stealing or damaging the furnishings or getting injured. So I did what any conscientious, concerned, law-abiding citizen would do — I ran back to my car and got the red chair.

A cat friend sneaked into the picture above.

We didn’t stay inside long. None of the stuff actually belonged to the Lincolns, and we’ve been to hundreds of similar places. But as we strolled back to the car, we saw that the visitor center was open. The museum inside was well done and informative, somewhat of a surprise for Illinois.

This statue was built in 1968 to commemorate the 110th anniversary of the Lincoln-Douglas debates. It arrived too late for the celebration and suffered years of neglect (and many bullet holes) until it was purchased and restored by the Lincoln Springs Resort a few miles east of Charleston.

It’s the main feature of Abe’s Garden, sandwiched between a gravel quarry and a racetrack. The owner won’t reveal how tall it is — he doesn’t want anybody to build a taller one — but sources state that Abe is 72 feet high.

The garden has several other statues, all carved in wood by an artist named Bill Monken who has said, “I have tried to create these statues so no one else would have one like them.” He succeeded.

I couldn’t help having some fun with one of them.

We had the garden, and perhaps the whole resort, to ourselves. And as odd as the place was, it somehow still managed to be impressive.

There’s a Dog n Suds in Robinson, Illinois. It’s over near the Indiana border about 50 miles from I-57. On our way back north, we decided to check it off the list. As we headed east on a two-lane road, we passed through the town of Oblong. The citizens are very proud of the fact that no other town in the world is named Oblong.

I parked on a side road and pulled out my chair and my camera. Three or four people from a house across the street stood out in the yard and stared at me. (My wife didn’t get out of the car.) I imagine they got a kick out of it when I drove off with the hatch door open — I noticed it when we were about half a mile down the road.

The town was once called Henpeck, but the natives didn’t care for that, so they renamed it Oblong in honor of a nearby rectangular prairie. The Chicago Tribune once ran an article about a man from the town who married a woman from another Illinois community — “Oblong Man Marries Normal Woman.”

All day long, I was looking forward to a mug of cold Dog n Suds root beer. It was still in the 90’s and humid at 6:30 when we finally got to Robinson, and when I saw the familiar sign along the highway, I was almost drooling.

The sign didn’t look like any of the others I’ve seen. It didn’t have the arrow over the top, the background was white, and the picture of Rover was different. (And it looks like only the DO and UDS light up.)

The next thing I noticed was that the parking lot was empty. In fact, the entire place looked empty.

It was closed.

I pulled into the lot and walked around a bit and took some photos. A sign on the front window said it was open Monday through Saturday. It never occurred to me to check. I had no doubt it would be open on a Sunday evening. I was wrong. And so I wasn’t able to get an explanation for the sign that said “Polish sausage cauliflower bacon cheeseburger.”

I was depressed as I drove back west through Oblong, then headed north toward Charleston. I decided to check it off my list anyway. If I ever happen to be in the Robinson area on any day except Sunday, I’ll give it another shot, but I probably won’t make a special trip. And who knows how long it will be there. There was a Dog n Suds in Charleston as recently as last year, but it’s gone. We couldn’t even find the building.

We ended up buying supper at a Steak and Shake next to our hotel and eating it in our room. Such is life.