I never met Nannie Jeter. She died about a year and a half before I was born.
That is . . . until today.
I received a request through FindAGrave for a photo of her headstone in Midway Cemetery near Midway, Kentucky.
The cemetery itself was easy enough to find even though I hadn't been there before.
It's a lovely cemetery, but very big. When I parked the car I said to my wife, "This is a waste of time. We'll never find it."
I didn't have a map or a section number, just the name.
But we got out and started to walk as we've done for years, scanning the stones we could see from the roadway looking for Jeter.
Finally I stopped. "Come on, Nannie. Show me."
I wandered rather aimlessly, I thought, repeating the mantra, "Show me, Nannie."
Finally I stopped and turned and faced a row of stones. There about 10 feet away . . . was Nannie's stone.
It was scary. It was chilling. It raised the hair on the back of my neck.
Was it blind luck or . . . something else?
I don't know and I don't wish to start a debate.
But, "Thank you, Nannie!"