Forgotten Graves, Uncertain Future: The Story of Douglass Cemetery

By Diane Euston

  Cemeteries are oftentimes our only guide to the layers of history that exist on the land around us. Those sacred burial spaces give us small clues about the pioneers who pushed west for a better life. 

  My personal journey is tied to a specific cemetery just steps from my childhood home. At seven, I’d visit the meticulously maintained New Santa Fe Cemetery, just east of State Line Road on Santa Fe Trail. The old headstones fascinated me, and I wanted to know why young children were buried there. I went to the Red Bridge Library, where a lady directed me to a small local history section so I could try to figure out who these people were.

  I cannot aptly put into words how this cemetery was the first link into what would become a career as a historian. I would enter the gates of that old cemetery as a guest and feel like family. I asked my mother to buy materials for grave rubbings. 

  For the past decade, while writing my blog and for the newspaper, I’ve slowly but surely visited other pioneer burial grounds and worked on telling their stories, too.

  In 2018, I tackled Mount Pleasant Cemetery at 125th Place and Wornall, which had fallen into disrepair even though the one-acre graveyard was surrounded by half-million-dollar homes. The burial site had been used since 1840. 

  Headstones had fallen over or completely disappeared. In 2012, there were 36 headstones accounted for, and at the cleanup I initiated of the cemetery, I only counted 19 headstones.

  What became clear is that the demise of some of these sacred spaces is due to decisions made by developers. Back in the 1960s, JC Nichols attempted to “relocate” New Santa Fe Cemetery to build a shopping center, but locals balked at the idea and stopped it. Other spaces, such as Davis Burial Ground at Martin City near the railroad tracks, virtually disappeared because no one like me was there to raise a ruckus. 

  The cemetery dated from the 1850s, and 100 years later, the Union Pacific Railroad constructed a spur that literally sandwiched the Davis Burial Ground in between tracks, making it virtually inaccessible. They knew it was there, and they did it, anyway.

  Because of the extensive research I’ve compiled on these pioneers who lived in the area, stories like these break my heart and infuriate me. I’ve made it my mission to write over time about these places – these cemeteries, homes and historic locations that we’ve lost sight of in the name of progress.

  One such burial ground has always been on my radar, but quite honestly, I could never find it. Named Douglass Cemetery and sometimes called Grange, this landlocked cemetery just northeast of 92nd Street and Charlotte is being threatened by development.

  The 19-acre development plan at 91st and Troost Avenue by Milhaus calls to build nine buildings and 288 units virtually around a historic cemetery I’d been trying for years to find.

  The outcry from the neighborhood led me to a meeting at Trailside Center with the Boone Hills Neighborhood Association on October 15. I’d received numerous emails from concerned citizens who were worried about their plans to “downsize” what was once a 1.5-acre tract set aside for locals to bury their loved ones.

  I’ve seen this story too many times before. It was time to tell the story of the people buried at this overgrown cemetery and hope that it wasn’t too late.

William Douglass and the Creation of a Cemetery

  The cemetery gets part of its name from the pioneer Douglass family led by William Douglass (b. 1813) and his wife, Emily Dooley (b. 1820). The couple married in 1840. Prior to moving to the area, the couple resided in Kentucky.

  Like so many of the early settlers of Jackson County, Mo., William, likely looking for cheaper land and more opportunities, opted to move his young family to the area in about 1852. He purchased 200 acres of land where he and his wife built a homestead at approximately 93rd and Holmes; another parcel of 80 acres at current-day 83rd and Wornall covered part of today’s Sunnyside Park.

  But the bulk of the homestead was off Holmes; it included land running from current-day Bannister Road to 91st Street and from Holmes to Troost Avenue. Another parcel to the east included just shy of 60 acres east of Troost Avenue from Bannister Road to about 93rd Street.

  Here, the Douglass’ raised seven children: Albin (b. 1841), Harriett (b. 1845), George (b. 1847), Jennie (b. 1849), James (b. 1850), Joseph (b. 1854) and Lizzie (b. 1861).

  Their children married into many pioneer families from the area. Harriett married Lafayette Watts, the older brother of Dallas, Mo. miller, Stubbins Watts. Jane “Jennie” Douglass married Napoleon Boone (1842-1923), the great-grandson of famous pioneer Daniel Boone. The couple lived at 83rd and Wornall on land  given to him by his father.

  When the Douglass Cemetery came into use isn’t clear, as records are scarce and so many graves in the countryside went unmarked by families. It was most likely in use prior to the purchase of the land by William Douglass in 1852. 

  A survey of the cemetery in 1934 by the Daughters of the American Revolution shows 28 headstones were visible at their survey, the oldest dating from 1877 for the burial of a 29-year-old woman named Nancy Stukesberry. 

  Nancy’s brother rented land nearby, and when she died, a large, intricate headstone was erected in the Douglass Cemetery.

  Because this family was unrelated to the Douglass’ and her headstone (which still exists inside the cemetery) was quite expensive, it is unlikely this was the first burial inside the graveyard. 

  When the patriarch of the family, William Douglass, died in 1886 at the age of 72, his family placed him inside the Douglass Cemetery. They commissioned an impressive headstone, 6.5 feet high, from Olathe Marble Works. Napoleon Boone oversaw its installation at the cemetery.

  The top of this headstone has been missing for decades, but the base remains legible.

  After the death of William, his widow, Emily, moved to the parcel of land near current-day Sunnyside Park where her daughter, Jennie Boone, was nearby.

  The land was divided among their heirs; the tract that included the original homestead went to their oldest son, Albin (b. 1841). The tract which surrounded the burial ground passed to their son, Joseph (b. 1856), who built a homestead of his own at current-day 9135 Holmes.

  The burial ground itself wasn’t given to any of the heirs of the family. Instead, likely to continue its use as a cemetery, the family conveyed the property in March 1886 to James McDonald, R.B. Matney and Hiram Lee, men listed as “Trustees of Pleasant Grove Grange Number 1326.”

  Research indicates that farmers surrounding the town of Dallas, Mo. in 1873 formed the Pleasant Grove Grange Patrons of Husbandry with 32 local citizens. The organization was meant to help protect farmers and work on legislation to aid agricultural practices.

  This is where the cemetery gets its second name, as referred to in some records – Grange Cemetery.

  Perhaps the Douglass’, who were involved in the Pleasant Grove Grange, entrusted the organization to take care of the cemetery grounds indefinitely. 

Exploring the Lives Inside Douglass Cemetery

  Several interesting stories can be told about the people buried inside this pioneer burial ground, but one story raises eyebrows about why he’s even buried where he is.

  Moses Agers died in 1890. Born in 1837 in Montgomery County, Ky., Moses arrived in Missouri just prior to the Civil War, first settling in Platte County. 

  According to “The History of Wyandotte County and Its People” published in 1911, after a few years, Moses “removed to Kansas where he engaged in freighting, carrying goods to and from Denver across the plains in ox teams.”

  At Leavenworth in 1863, just after the Lawrence Massacre, Moses Agers turned his energy toward military service. He enlisted in Co. K, 15th Kansas Cavalry.

  This wasn’t just any Civil War regiment; this was the infamous “Red Legs” led by Col. Charles Jennison (1834-1884) who were commissioned to “protect the eastern Kansas border from Confederate guerrillas and raiders.” 

  When Gen. Thomas Ewing, who commanded the District of the Border, expelled families from Jackson, Cass, Bates and part of Vernon Counties in 1863 through Gen. Order No. 11, the 15th Kansas Cavalry was sent to enforce it. The regiment ensured that these banished Missourians (approximately 25,000-30,000 people) left, and in order to further cut off the guerrillas from their support systems, they burned homes, barns and crops along the border.

  The regiment, including Moses Agers, also fought at the Battle of Westport.

  Moses Agers didn’t live anywhere near the Douglass farm or the cemetery – his farm was near current-day Kansas Speedway in western Wyandotte County –  so why he and two of his sons who died in 1890 and 1893 were buried there remains a mystery.

  In general, the southern Jackson County area at the time was made up of pro-slavery settlers, so the burial of Moses Agers, a man who fought at one of the most quintessential battles in the west, is surprising.

  Another burial that remained unmarked was that of Jasper Watts, the son of Lafayette Watts (b. 1831) and his wife, Harriett Douglass (b. 1845). Lafayette and Harriett were married in 1861 and had children Fanny, Ambertha, William, Lizzie and Jasper, who was born in 1874.

  The family at the time was living near Aubry, Kan. near present-day 199th and Metcalf Avenue when tragedy struck. Harriett Douglass Watts died at the age of 29 years.

  Lafayette opted to move the family to Dallas, Mo. at 103rd and State Line where his brother, Stubbins, was operating the mill their father had purchased. He’d be closer to both his wife and his own family as he put the pieces back together.

  Lafayette worked as a merchant and farmer, also investing heavily in the Pleasant Grove Grange. 

  When Jasper was just seven years old, his father died. He was left in the care of his maternal grandfather, William Douglass. When he grew older, Jasper worked for his Uncle Stubbins at the Watts Mill.

  As an adult, Jasper accumulated some money and invested in a steam-powered threshing outfit to improve his farming abilities. He met and married Emma Kate Gillespie in Miami County, Kan. in 1894. The couple had three children they named Emma, Pansy and Jasper, Jr.

  An unfortunate string of bad luck hit Jasper and his young family. First, his equipment he’d invested heavily in broke and his horses died. 

 He left for the city in early 1899, opting to move his family to the West Bottoms where he worked at the stockyards. But the tragedies continued.

  The whole family was struck with pneumonia, and on January 23, 1899, the couple’s eight-month-old son, Jasper, succumbed to it. The Kansas City Journal reported, “An undertaker was notified, and the remains were buried, the members of the family being too ill to attend the funeral.” He was placed in Potter’s Field inside Union Cemetery.

  Two days later, two-year-old Patsy died and was buried next to her little brother.

  One week after that, their remaining child, Emma, 3 years old, passed away. The newspaper reported, “It is the intention of the father to have the three bodies interred in the family cemetery at Dallas.”

  It’s unknown if Jasper was successful, because on April 4, 1899, Jasper died of pneumonia at just 24 years old. According to a cousin, he was buried in an unmarked grave on the south side of the Douglass Cemetery.

  So many stories survive of these pioneers buried at Douglass, and a combination of vandalism, isolation and uncertainty make it hard to piece together what has been lost.

  But one monument, missing from the cemetery, magically popped up many years ago in an unlikely location.

  William Ricketts, the father of William Douglass’ oldest son, Albin’s wife, Amanda (1843-1880), was born in 1805 in Maryland. He moved to Clay County, Mo. where he married Elizabeth Huffman in 1842. 

  In the 1850s, William Ricketts opted to move his large family to Jackson County, Mo. to land nearby the Douglass family. There, his oldest daughter, Amanda “Mandy” Ricketts (1842-1880), met William Douglass’ oldest son, Albin. The couple married in 1862.

  Just months after his daughter, Mandy Ricketts Douglass passed away, William Ricketts died at the age of 75. Both father and daughter were buried at Douglass Cemetery.

  Sometime between 1934 and the 1990s, William Ricketts’ headstone disappeared. Vandals to the isolated cemetery carried away his monument where it remained missing for decades.

  In May 2022, the headstone was found inside the groundskeeper’s shed at the Blue Springs Cemetery. When it was discovered, the groundskeeper claimed that a man in his previous position had told him that “two teenagers dropped if off at the cemetery,” the assumption being they felt guilty for the vandalism.

  The headstone remains with Blue Springs Historical Society to this day, a blatant reminder of how much destruction has truly fallen upon little Douglass Cemetery.

Development and Endangerment of Douglass Cemetery

  The current development plans for the 19-acre tract which includes the cemetery isn’t the first time there’s been an attempt to build on this land. In November 1964, Lewis Goldberg (1900-1980) began the Troost Apartment Project using various parcels from the land divided for Joseph Douglass’ heirs.

  Goldberg had a history of successful developments, including the Santa Fe shops at the northeast corner of 85th and Wornall, Metcalf South Shopping Center and Indian Creek Shopping Center.

  Most of the direct descendants of these families buried there had moved away, but the developer permitted the family to move bodies to another location. Other burials originally in the cemetery were moved at earlier dates, including Dr. Archibald Spruill (1824-1899), the area physician. His body and headstone were reinterred in New Santa Fe Cemetery at an unknown date.

  Whether the family opted to move some of their kinfolk out of Douglass Cemetery remains unclear, but current listings at other cemeteries don’t include any of those originally buried at this spot.

  Regardless, Goldberg successfully rezoned the parcels in 1966 from local retail and single-family dwellings to “low apartments in the southwest corner of 92nd and Troost.”

  Clearly, the development plan fell through. The land sat vacant, minus the 1.5-acre cemetery, for another 60 years.

  At the meeting with the Boone Hills Neighborhood Association, I heard neighbors who were worried about their property values and about how close the development would get to their wooded backyards. There was concern about trees being cut down and the endangerment of wildlife along with the future of the cemetery.

  I had to see this cemetery for myself, so with the help of a neighbor, my mother and Howard Hayslett, a descendant of those buried there, we opted to visit the cemetery and see these plans up close.

  The cemetery was in better shape than I thought; cleanup would be quite easy with a large group, and once the ground was cleared and small trees removed, other headstones and impressions in the earth would likely emerge. But it’s well past the road, so access to it is limited.

  Some headstones, such as Moses Agers and Albin Douglass’, are in surprisingly good shape. But others nearby are broken into pieces or are missing large portions of what once was there. Empty bottles of alcohol lend a clue. I’ve seen this type of destruction many times. Having a cemetery buried deep in the woods means that these sacred spaces remain hidden from the general population but are a haven for those up to no good.

A Disputed Boundary and an Uncertain Future

  Current plans for this cemetery and the land around it are outlined with a temporary fence, and inside, there are wooden stakes with fluorescent flags that seem to outline what this company plans to “protect” when development begins.

  As I walked around, it became vividly clear that what they’ve outlined – which is approximately 5,500 square feet for the cemetery – doesn’t cover a bulk of what was once part of Douglass Grange.

  According to the developers’ plans, “A fence is now installed 10 to 15 feet outside the cemetery perimeter, located from our surveyor’s research, so no work touches ground where anyone could be buried.” 

  But on my visit, I had my eyes focused on this boundary and on the ground. While I was walking on the eastern portion of the cemetery, far past the line that was designated, I found the base of a headstone. Howard Hayslett approached, and with a little wiggling, he turned it upright.

  It was a headstone, with clean corners. The top is gone, so identification of whose stone this is would be impossible. But it’s a burial outside the lines we saw.

  Walking around a space like this, dodging brush, honeysuckle, volunteer trees and poison ivy, is humbling. This place was meant to be sacred and protected, and yet current plans don’t seem to cover the majority of what was set aside for the cemetery.

  In fact, the plans call for building parking lots and buildings all around it. In some portions, neighbors near the cemetery who have lived with a wooded lot behind them would have only a 30-foot easement between the end of their backyard and a three-story apartment building.

  That deed from 1886 that gave the cemetery grounds to Pleasant Grove Grange should still be intact land. In 1923, when the family split the property into further parcels, the cemetery was clearly carved out as 1.5 acres. Yet these parcels are being considered for a redevelopment plan to build affordable housing. They want to break ground in late 2027.

  Milhaus, the developer, has been made aware of the discrepancies with the land titles for the cemetery tract. “Milhaus legal, title, and surveying experts are actively evaluating the new information presented at the City Planning and Development Board meeting as it conflicts with the initial title documentation received when the property went under contract,” Danielle Baker, a public relations representative for the company, said.

  Cleaning up the ground and removing many of the trees would likely also reveal impressions in the ground – sinking – that appears when loved ones are interred without a burial vault. Caskets disintegrate over time, and impressions in the earth indicate burial spaces. 

  Until this place is property cleaned up, one cannot even begin to decipher what this ground may hold. 

  I’ve been a part of cemetery cleanups and analyzed ground-penetrating radar (GPR) surveys in old burial grounds that reveal so much about a property. Without digging, these surveys can show a disturbance in the soil that could alert to burials that are currently without a visible marking.

  Milhaus commented that they considered doing GPR; they talked with two independent experts who came to the conclusion that the study would yield inconclusive results. They referred to the heavy clay soil and decades of overgrowth, which have allowed root systems to erode what evidence may remain. 

  “The study [of the cemetery] would also require significant tree clearing, which neighborhood residents specifically asked Milhaus to avoid,” Baker stated.

  But the Boone Hills neighborhood states differently. Neighbors, including Clark …., saw heavy equipment show up to clear trees out – and they were steps away from the cemetery. There were emails to the developer with concern over how close they were to the cemetery. 

  “From the very first day they used heavy machinery,  we told them that they needed a proper survey since there was a cemetery there,” Clark Davis, a neighborhood association member said.

  Clearing trees around it is a concern, neighbors contend, but the neighbors asked them to stop clearing the brush because they were within the 1.5 acre tract designated for the cemetery.  Without a proper archaeological survey, including maintenance of the cemetery, the neighbors are hesitant to trust they will do the right thing.

   Affordable housing is certainly needed in Kansas City, and plans like this require significant planning. Milhaus has continued to engage the community during their planning stages, but it’s clear there are many valid questions surrounding the future of Douglass Cemetery due to  incorrect surveys.

  What is known is that dozens of people rest below the surface in Douglass Cemetery, and their stories are essential to the collective history of our community. We must respect them and ensure that we continue to be part of the process to ensure that mistakes that have been made in the past don’t repeat. 

  Progress should never come at the expense of those who came before us, and the pioneers resting at Douglass Cemetery deserve more than a forgotten place beneath the shadow of new development.