Leah See 1817 - 1897

Leah See 1817 – 1897 I lived 80 long years. Struggling with sickness and deprivation. Toiling like a slave In the mad heat of 80 summers And the bone-numbing cold of 79 winters. Striving and straining for happiness and earthly fulfillment. No man or woman, or God even, Can take away my honest dealings and daily concerns For the well, the sick and the dying Of this former fledgling Quaker community. But know this old Whittier town, Town of a hundred years hence, Yes, you, my once adopted home By the rising hills to the north and to the east. Know that my anger for you holds no bounds. After sweet Artilissa passed away, You let my grave go to waste. My tombstone was vandalized and left toppled By the youthful foolish ones From the big high school to the south. Left crumpled and broken There in the weeds and the trash. My 80 years as a struggling woman and wife Left as refuse for the rats! My final resting place here in Clark Cemetery Is not to be found now. You in your temporary wisdom took my name away, Took my life dates, carved with condoling care, My allotted years as a breathing thinking human being, Carved for all time on my beautiful expensive tombstone. But you took it away in a trash truck. Mine and my fellow citizens’ Here in this hollowed ground of seeping death. So, if you dare, Living ones of the now and the future Come visit me here in the night. Come to this haunted old graveyard on Broadway Street. And I will show myself to you in my anger! I will show you my living spirit In all its resplendent colors of the rainbow! Come boldly, distant cousins and ancestors, And I will prove to you There is no death!