THE GHOST OF ELIJAH RANDOLPH? by Lila Clay [email protected]

In April of 1997, I was given by my employer access to the Internet at work and at home. I soon found a genealogy chat channel used by about 75 researchers from all over the world, and I have never left. I have become good friends with "Rose," who is from Oklahoma but lives in St. Louis, Missouri. One night Rose said, "I have a friend called "mobob" who lives in Ohio but whose great-grandfather is buried in Stuart [Hughes County], Oklahoma." She wondered if I might be able to find the grave, take a picture, and send it to him. I was more than happy to help, and did so.

I was looking for the grave of Elijah RANDOLPH and the only information "mobob" had was his death date. They asked me to do this around the middle of June. On the 7th of August, on an unusually cool, foggy, rainy day, I left for Stuart, Oklahoma. I live almost due east of Stuart about 60 miles, in Wilburton. When I was driving through McAlester on highway 270 heading west toward Stuart, I thought "Egad, what am I doing?" There I was alone, on a horrid day, going to Stuart to find a grave in an unknown cemetery.

When I got to Stuart, I stopped at the Chamber of Commerce, where I learned there are four cemeteries: one west of town; another south and close to town; one north of town; and one in another town. I chose the one south of town and thought, "Oh well, I have all day." I drove to Pryor Cemetery, stopped at the gate, and wondered where to begin looking. I mentally divided the cemetery into four parts. I drove through the middle and around to the back up to the middle of one side, stopped the car and got out, leaving the camera in the car because it was raining. The only sound I heard was the rain hitting the leaves on the trees and the tombstones. Visibility was poor; the clouds seemed to be right on the cemetery. I walked to center of the cemetery and saw that the old tombstones were mixed with the new tombstones. I was not hurrying, just walking and looking side to side at the names on the tombstones as I headed to the center. I turned around to go back to the car when I heard a new sound -- the most beautiful Indian chant -- not once or twice, but several times and then some. It was enough to cause me slowly to turn around in a complete circle, trying without success to see the source of the sounds. When I looked down, I was standing on the grave of Elijah RANDOLPH.

I walked back to my car -- not scared -- but very peaceful. I got the camera and my umbrella, walked back to the grave, and took several photos. Then I did a look around and got in my car and drove back home, still not completely realizing what had just taken place. All of this took maybe a little over two hours. It was as if I was guided out of my door to my car, to Stuart, to the correct cemetery on the first try, to the grave, and back home again. When I contacted "mobob" on the Internet, I asked him if Elijah was Native American but he didn't know.

"Young Sis" on the Internet suggested that I put a note on the tombstone of Elijah RANDOLPH with mobob's and my name and address. My twin sister and I drove to the cemetery about two weeks later (I wasn't going alone) and put a note on the grave. Within three weeks, "mobob" had a message, the genealogy of several lines of ancestors, and a photo of Elijah RANDOLPH, his second wife, and four of his children. Elijah RANDOLPH was not native American, but his second wife was.

Now, let me tell you what else has happened. On 20 August 2001, I received an e-mail from a woman in Missouri whose mother was a daughter of Elijah RANDOLPH. Her mother died on 7 August 1997, the very day that I went to Pryor Cemetery, stepped on Elijah's grave, and suddenly heard repeated chants, their source unknown. I wonder . . .

[The lineage of Elijah RANDOLPH and, at the Images link on that page, photos I took that day are online at http://w3.one.net/~tandp/tree/Elijah_Randolph_1853.html ]