Tales Tombstones Tell 2024 - Frank Whitton

35th Annual Tales Tombstones Tell - Self Guided Tour

Welcome, history enthusiasts and curious minds! We're thrilled to invite you on a virtual journey through time with our self-guided tour of the 35th anniversary "Tales Tombstones Tell." This blog series will take you on a captivating exploration of local history, one gravestone at a time. Each post features the script and an accompanying video recording from a different stop on the cemetery walk, allowing you to experience the rich stories and forgotten tales etched in stone. Whether you're a longtime resident or a newcomer to our community, prepare to uncover the fascinating lives, triumphs, and tragedies of those who came before us. Let's embark on this historical adventure together, as we bring the past to life through the whispers of our Oakwood cemetery.

Frank Hook Whitton 1839-1913

Interpreter: Tom Tawney

Stop Eight 

Good evening. My name is Frank Hook Whitton. I was born in Devonshire, England in 1839. I was one of six children born to my parents Henry and Nancy Whitton. I grew up in Devonshire on my family’s farm. I spent the warmer months of my childhood working the fields with my father and attending school during the winter months. I was a hardworking lad, and I learned the value of a strong work ethic early on. When I turned 19, I decided to set off on my own and make my own way in the world. I had no money, but I was determined to succeed and set sail for the United States. I arrived in Winfield Township in 1858, and I quickly found work as a farm hand. At that time much of this area was still farmland with just small communities peppered on the landscape. I worked hard as a farm hand and saved my money, and eventually, I was able to rent my own land. After a few years, I moved to Batavia, where I met and married the love of my life, Mary Ellen Lindley. Mary was the daughter of English immigrants, just like me, and we had a lot in common. We started a family and had four beautiful children, although sadly, our youngest son, George, died in infancy. 

In 1866, we moved our family to Turner, and I opened up a meat market. One of the earliest photographs that the Museum has in it’s collection is a tintype of the Whitton Meat Market from the 1870s. It’s a tintype, the type of photography we had back then, and although the photo is not very clear, but you can make out the saw in my hand, one of the many valued tools of the local butcher. 

When the first Village government of Turner was formed in 1873, I proudly served as a trustee and later a collector. This began a long period of public service for us Whittons. I served 15 terms on the Turner Village Board of Trustees and I had the rare distinction of being on the first board of trustees for the Village of Turner and then on the last when the Village of Turner changed its name to West Chicago in 1896. In those days we thought it would be a good idea to change our name from the more rural sounding Turner; we hoped we’d attract more business and people to town and it worked, although I think the name West Chicago still causes you all a little confusion. Under either name I was proud to serve this community, and I even served a term as the Village President. My 15 years in office was outdone however by my son, Frank Herbert Whitton. He served 24 terms as an alderman on the city council.

My business was a fixture in the West Chicago community for 76 years, and I was grateful that my son and grandson helped continue the family business here on Main Street. Our family house also still stands on E. Washington Street. It was the site of many happy memories, including the wedding of my daughter Eleanor May Whitton to Edward Merriamn in October of 1893. We were a close-knit family, and I was grateful for the life that I had built in America, a true dream for me as an immigrant. I passed away in 1913,and was laid to rest here in Oakwood Cemetery. I am proud to have been a part of the West Chicago community, help contribute to its local government and business community, and I am grateful for the opportunities that this country gave me. Thank you for coming to hear all of our stories this evening. 

Tales Tombstones Tell 2024 - Stranger and Indigent

35th Annual Tales Tombstones Tell - Self Guided Tour

Welcome, history enthusiasts and curious minds! We're thrilled to invite you on a virtual journey through time with our self-guided tour of the 35th anniversary "Tales Tombstones Tell." This blog series will take you on a captivating exploration of local history, one gravestone at a time. Each post features the script and an accompanying video recording from a different stop on the cemetery walk, allowing you to experience the rich stories and forgotten tales etched in stone. Whether you're a longtime resident or a newcomer to our community, prepare to uncover the fascinating lives, triumphs, and tragedies of those who came before us. Let's embark on this historical adventure together, as we bring the past to life through the whispers of our Oakwood cemetery.

Stranger & Indigent

Interpreters: Beth and Bob

Stop Seven


We wandered, lost and forgotten, shadows cast adrift by a world that had no use for us. On your journey tonight you have now reached the area of the cemetery reserved for the stranger and indigent in Turner. As a bustling railroad town many passed through this community, hitching a ride on a railcar, without a set destination. We were from all corners of the world; they called us hobos, tramps, wearies - names that echoed our rootless existence. During the early days of the community we numbered many, so many so that a one night’s lodging was offered in Turner Town Hall, also used as a jail, but without alternative accommodations it was shelter. 

Some of us were skilled workers, our hands bearing the marks of honest labor, ready to trade our expertise for a warm meal or a safe place to sleep. But others, the "wearies," carried a different kind of burden, the weight of a past that haunted their every step, a past that made them shun work and embrace the open road.

Turner, with its bustling railroads and transient population, was a magnet for our kind. We came seeking refuge, a chance to blend in with the shadows, to escape the harsh realities of life. But danger lurked around every corner. The trains, our lifeline and our curse, claimed the lives of many who dared to jump on or off their iron steeds. Other died from illness or violence in the camps. 

And when death came, as it inevitably did, there was no one to mourn our passing, no familiar faces to shed tears over our unmarked graves. 46 lots reserved as our final resting place; graves paid for by the township. We were the strangers, the indigent, the forgotten souls laid to rest in these unmarked graves, our stories forever lost to the winds of time.

 [Song: See That My Grave’s Kept Green]

Tales Tombstones Tell 2024 - John Warne Gates

35th Annual Tales Tombstones Tell Self - Guided Tour

Welcome, history enthusiasts and curious minds! We're thrilled to invite you on a virtual journey through time with our self-guided tour of the 35th anniversary "Tales Tombstones Tell." This blog series will take you on a captivating exploration of local history, one gravestone at a time. Each post features the script and an accompanying video recording from a different stop on the cemetery walk, allowing you to experience the rich stories and forgotten tales etched in stone. Whether you're a longtime resident or a newcomer to our community, prepare to uncover the fascinating lives, triumphs, and tragedies of those who came before us. Let's embark on this historical adventure together, as we bring the past to life through the whispers of our Oakwood cemetery.

John Warne Gates (1855-1911)

Interpreters: Dan and Martha Czuba
Stop Six

Dan: Good evening, you have now reached the cemetery plot of perhaps West Chicago’s most celebrated son, me, John Bet-a-Millon Gates. 

Martha: Although John was born and raised here in West Chicago, the fame and fortune of our grand lives is more celebrated in my hometown, St. Charles. I am John’s wife; my name is Dellora BAKER Gates, perhaps you know of a few landmarks in St. Charles that bear my maiden name. 

Dan: Let us go back a few years to give you some context. My ancestors had been here in the New World since before the United States was formed. In the 1830s my mother’s family was part of a movement of New Englanders that headed west for the open land. They first settled in Big Woods, an area now part of the western portion of Warrenville. In October of 1843 at Gary’s Mill settlement my mother Mary Warne married my father Asel Gates. My father was an Illinois native who was a veteran of the Blackhawk War. My parents were part of the Methodist congregation that centered around Gary’s Mill. 

I was one of five Gates children born and raised on our family farm just south of Turner. Our home still stands on the northwest corner of Forest Avenue and Route 59 in West Chicago. As all parents do, my parents had big dreams for us kids but sadly my siblings all died before the age of 20. George, my oldest brother, enlisted in the Union Army at the age of 16 and sadly like far too many was killed in the Civil War in Georgia. My other three of my other siblings also met tragic ends, and I was left to carry on the family name. I was determined to be successful and I’m proud to say I did, as an early salesman of barbed wire who worked my way up to be the largest barbed wire manufacturer and then a steel industry tycoon, I was a leading member of society during the American Gilded Age. 

Martha: John made us all so proud and he provided wonderfully for our family. I was happy to support his career and his ambition which took him beyond his hometown of TUrner Junction. After we married in 1874 we first lived above his hardware store at Galena and Main Street, it’s nice to see that building still stands even if it was a meager way to start such an illustrious career. When he started selling barbed wire, he traveled a lot and finally moved our family to Texas. In the south John prospered through his involvement with oil and steel and he really became my equal, you know as I was known as “The Belle of St. Charles.” I was born into my prominence, but John worked hard, took a lot of chances and earned his nickname Bet-A-Millon Gates. As John’s wealth grew he felt it would be nice to purchase this cemetery lot and built this monument in honor of his siblings who had all died in their youth. When his parents died they were laid here to rest. You may hear your city museum speak ill of John, but after he buried his parents here and we moved to New York where we mingled in very high society, it just didn’t seem right to leave his parents here in West Chicago. John had always wanted a grander resting place for our family. Much of our wealth had been invested elsewhere and John no longer felt so close to this community, so we made plans and following both of our deaths a $25,000 mausoleum in the Bronx in Woodlawn Cemetery was built. John’s parents' graves were moved to our final resting place there in New York. Our family fortune was inherited by my brother and our sons. As a proud St. Charles girl, it is wonderful that our money helped build the Norris Cultural Arts Center., St. Charles High School, the Baker Memorial Methodist Church, the Hotel Baker and the former Delnor Hospital. 

Dan: I’m sorry if you West Chicagaoans think my fortune should have come here, but you do still get to claim me as your most famous hometown boy. Thank you

Tales Tombstones Tell 2024 - Soldiers and Sailors Monument

35th Annual Tales Tombstones Tell - Self Guided Tour

Welcome, history enthusiasts and curious minds! We're thrilled to invite you on a virtual journey through time with our self-guided tour of the 35th anniversary "Tales Tombstones Tell." This blog series will take you on a captivating exploration of local history, one gravestone at a time. Each post features the script and an accompanying video recording from a different stop on the cemetery walk, allowing you to experience the rich stories and forgotten tales etched in stone. Whether you're a longtime resident or a newcomer to our community, prepare to uncover the fascinating lives, triumphs, and tragedies of those who came before us. Let's embark on this historical adventure together, as we bring the past to life through the whispers of our Oakwood cemetery.

Soldiers and Sailors Monument

Interpreter: Mike Ferguson
Stop Five

Good evening. Tonight you are hearing the stories about some of the people who have shaped our community over the past 175 years and that story cannot be told without talking about the many West Chicagoans who have served in the military. I stand alongside those brave men and women as a veteran. And as an veteran I know how important it is to pay tribute to those who have served, but perhaps even more important to honor those who were killed during that service.

This large monument we stand in front of is the only one of its kind here in West Chicago.  On this parcel of land we honor those killed during war.  Called the Soldiers and Sailors Monument, it was dedicated in 1915 through the efforts of the West Chicago Woman’s Club after the Oakwood Cemetery Association granted the use of a large lot for the monument.  

Money for the monument was raised by subscriptions from residents of the community, donations by school children, collecting Savoy can labels (like current day Campbell Soup labels), and other special fundraisers.  In fact, the first source of income came from a Woman’s Club travelogue program on the Pacific Northwest that raised twenty-five dollars.

“It will be in honor not only of those who rest in West Chicago, but all who have called it ‘home’ and of those who lie in unmarked graves,” said the West Chicago Press in 1914.  The community has always known how important it was to pay tribute.

The base of the monument was shipped in the spring of 1915, and the formal dedication of the monument was planned for Decoration Day (Memorial Day) May 30, 1915.  Less than a month before the dedication, the news came from Vermont, where the stone was being cut, that there would be a delay.  Every stone cutter and polisher was out on strike and weeks had elapsed without signs of settlement.  We know the dedication was delayed, but we do not know when it finally occurred. A fact lost to history.

Cannonballs from the Rock Island Arsenal were sent and were arranged in pyramids on either side of the steps, but sadly due to vandalism those have disappeared.

Note the crossed swords on the stone honoring those who died in the Civil War.  The dead that were being honored were those fighting in a time of hand-to-hand combat.  Little did the community know at the time of the monument’s dedication that the United States was soon to enter a war involving a multitude of nations and modern weapons—World War I.

For those of you who are familiar with this monument, you know that it has had big changes over its history.  Since this is the gathering place for services on Memorial Day, the West Chicago Lions Club had the idea to add a new base and new steps as a service project.  The Lions drew up a plan and solicited donations from local veterans organizations as well as private donors. 

Not only is the base aesthetically pleasing, it also provides a secure base for the monument, which had been suffering erosion.  A 16” concrete footing was placed under the floor of Barre (pronounced Barry) granite, the same granite used for the existing monument.  The base and new steps were completed in time for the Memorial Day ceremonies in 2012. The monument stands as just one way our community honors our veterans. Please look out for the Veterans street pole banners which will be going up soon in downtown West Chicago and when you can support our local VFW and American Legion. And a big thank you to any fellow veteran attending here tonight. Thank you

Tales Tombstones Tell 2024 - John Benjamin

35th Annual Tales Tombstones Tell - Self Guided Tour

Welcome, history enthusiasts and curious minds! We're thrilled to invite you on a virtual journey through time with our self-guided tour of the 35th anniversary "Tales Tombstones Tell." This blog series will take you on a captivating exploration of local history, one gravestone at a time. Each post features the script and an accompanying video recording from a different stop on the cemetery walk, allowing you to experience the rich stories and forgotten tales etched in stone. Whether you're a longtime resident or a newcomer to our community, prepare to uncover the fascinating lives, triumphs, and tragedies of those who came before us. Let's embark on this historical adventure together, as we bring the past to life through the whispers of our Oakwood cemetery.

John Reed Benjamin (1872-1944)


Interpreters: Maureen and Jim
Stop Four


Jim: Good evening, my name is John Reed Benjamin. I was born on December 14, 1872 on a farm in Wayne Township.  The farm was on the site of what is now Wheaton Academy and was known as Benjamin’s Grove while I was growing up there.  I was the oldest son of Robert Benjamin. You may know our family name. My grandpa had come to this area after serving during the War of 1812. He established a 1,000 acre farm on what is now the north side of town, but was all open prairie when he arrived. As one of the first farming families in this area my dad thought it was important to establish a school. Our one-room schoolhouse grew into what is today the longest operating school district in the state of Illinois, Benjamin School District 25. My dad was a very successful farmer and when he retired my brothers and sister split up the large Benjamin estate. 

Although I had grown up on a farm, I wasn’t sure farming was my calling. For a few years I worked as a carpenter and then like the vast majority of men in West Chicago I got a job on the railroad. I first worked as a fireman for the Chicago & NorthWestern Railroad. Trains today don’t have this job any more with your fancy diesel engines. My job was to feed coal into the locomotive’s firebox, keeping the steam engine in motion. It was a dirty job, but it paid well. 

Maureen: Being married to a railroad man brought stability but it also brought a lot of stress. My name is Jessie May Hayward. I was John’s second wife, and much younger than him;) We married in 1908 when I was just 22 years old after his first wife Violet had passed away. John and I met when he was working as a fireman on the railroad-it was a hard job and doing the laundry to try to get his work clothes free of all the coal dust was maybe an equally hard job I had the burden of doing. We had two daughters, one from John’s previous marriage, and were very happy with amongst our huge extended Benjamin family here in West Chicago. One of John’s brothers had married a Kline girl, perhaps you have heard of her family’s farm that your Forest Preserve District runs as Kline Creek Farm. Her father Casper Kline had established that farm in the early days of settlement in DuPage County much like the Benjamin farm. My family, the Haywards, are also known around town, but not for farming. The stories of my sisters, the famous or rather infamous Hayward twins, Carrie & Clara, are well-known, but those are stories for another day. 

John and I had a home at 444 Claremont, just down the road from here and not far from the house we Hayward kids grew up in. John worked hard and eventually became an engineer on the railroad, a much less taxing job, but the years of shoveling coal as a fireman had taken a toll on his body. 

Jim: I retired in 1942 after working for the railroad for 45 years.  I was lucky, unlike some other train men buried in this cemetery, I survived the dangers of working on the moving trains, but I passed away two years after my retirement.  In one of those odd twists of fate, after years of shoveling coal, I died while shoveling snow on December 10, 1944.  I was 71 years old. My obituary noted that I had been struggling with heart problems since my retirement and the exertion of shoveling the snow was too much.

Maureen: John was a proud member of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers and the Amity Lodge.  We held his funeral at the First United Methodist Church with the Masonic rites. I passed away 22 years later and was laid here to rest next to John and one of our daughters. Thank you

Tales Tombstones Tell 2024 - David Martin

35th Annual Tales Tombstones Tell - Self Guided Tour

Welcome, history enthusiasts and curious minds! We're thrilled to invite you on a virtual journey through time with our self-guided tour of the 35th anniversary "Tales Tombstones Tell." This blog series will take you on a captivating exploration of local history, one gravestone at a time. Each post features the script and an accompanying video recording from a different stop on the cemetery walk, allowing you to experience the rich stories and forgotten tales etched in stone. Whether you're a longtime resident or a newcomer to our community, prepare to uncover the fascinating lives, triumphs, and tragedies of those who came before us. Let's embark on this historical adventure together, as we bring the past to life through the whispers of our Oakwood cemetery.

David R. Martin

Interpreter: Kevin Davis

Stop three, Grave 336



Good evening, my name is David Rhodes Martin. My family’s history is a long and winding road, full of twists and turns that have led us to West Chicago. It all began when my great, great, great grandparents left their home in search of a better life. Like many other immigrants, they sought financial stability and religious freedom.

My ancestors were part of a group of Christians that had broken off from the Catholic Church during the Reformation in the 1500s. They were often referred to as Anabaptists and they faced great persecution for their religious beliefs. The name Anabaptists means “to baptize again,” as they baptized members when they were in adulthood and strongly believed in the separation of church and state. 

My family was part of the Dutch movement that followed Menno Simons called Mennonites. Mennonites were peaceful people who opposed violence and refused to take oaths or participate in lawsuits. Their beliefs often put them at odds with the authorities, leading to property confiscation, imprisonment, and even death. Imagine being forced to choose between your faith and your safety, your home, and your family. That's the impossible decision my ancestors faced. With their marriages declared void, their children deemed illegitimate by the government, and their religious gatherings forbidden, they had no choice but to flee. Sadly, an impossible choice some people are still forced to make across the world. 

For my ancestors, the Americas offered hope of a new life. William Penn had founded Pennsylvania in 1681 as a safe haven for those seeking religious freedom. By 1717, Mennonites were flocking to this new settlement. Among them was my great, great, great grandfather who arrived in Philadelphia on the ship "Molly" with 70 other Mennonite families. They settled in Lancaster County, becoming part of a community mistakenly referred to as the Pennsylvania "Dutch." These German-speaking immigrants were actually "Deutsch," a word that was later Anglicized to "Dutch."

But the journey didn't end there. After the Revolutionary War, many Mennonites, including my family, left Pennsylvania. Their refusal to serve in the military during the war branded them as traitors, forcing them to seek refuge elsewhere. My family started over in New York, where they lived for 18 years before finally settling in Illinois in 1847.

When my grandparents arrived in this area they purchased a 122-acre farm at the southwest corner of what is now Route 38 and Fabyan Parkway. At one point, they were the only farm in the township producing clover seed. They also made beeswax and honey. After almost thirty years on the farm, our family moved into Turner proper. 

My father, Christian, was one of seven children, four of whom came west to live in Illinois. They attended the German Baptist Church, informally known as the Dunkards, a name that referred to their practice of immersing adults for baptism. This congregation, now called the Church of the Brethren, still exists in Naperville.

I was the oldest of his eight children. My sisters married into local families with familiar names like Glos, Fairbank, and Barkdoll. My wife, Lucinda Pratt and I were married on January 3, 1871 and we had five children of our own. I passed away at the age of 65 in 1909 and was laid to rest here in Oakwood Cemetery alongside three generations of Martins. My family's story is a testament to the enduring human spirit and the pursuit of religious freedom.

Tales Tombstones Tell 2024 - Harriette Hills

35th Annual Tales Tombstones Tell - Self Guided Tour

Welcome, history enthusiasts and curious minds! We're thrilled to invite you on a virtual journey through time with our self-guided tour of the 35th anniversary "Tales Tombstones Tell." This blog series will take you on a captivating exploration of local history, one gravestone at a time. Each post features the script and an accompanying video recording from a different stop on the cemetery walk, allowing you to experience the rich stories and forgotten tales etched in stone. Whether you're a longtime resident or a newcomer to our community, prepare to uncover the fascinating lives, triumphs, and tragedies of those who came before us. Let's embark on this historical adventure together, as we bring the past to life through the whispers of our Oakwood cemetery.

Harriette Elizabeth Hills

Interpretor: Carol Townsend
Stop 2, Grave 343


My name is Harriette Elizabeth Hills. I was born in 1871 and raised in a house that my father built right here in Turner, Illinois. My mother’s family had come to the United States long before this country was founded. My father Albert however came to New York from Bethersdent, Kent, England with his family as a young man in 1849, the very year this community was founded 175 years ago. My father and his family were part of a community of English settlers who spread from the Oneida and Herkimer Counties in New York west to DuPage and Kane Counties in Illinois. These families included Hills, Padgham, Evenden, Avard, Allison, and Booth, some of whom are also buried in this very cemetery.

I was unusual for a woman of my time, as I was a career woman who commuted to Chicago for work each day. Although I only attended two years of high school at Turner School, I worked successfully as a secretary for an architect group early in my career. In 1912 I was asked to take a short contract with the University Club of Chicago for six months. However, that six months turned into 34 years. I loved my job as I was surrounded by literature and arts, the core mission of the University Club, and I believe that helped to shape me into the woman I became, and was maybe the reason I worked there until I was 75 years old.

My sister, Helen, and I were active in our community of West Chicago. We were founding members of the West Chicago Woman's Club, and I eventually realized that our town was in need of a library. I began collecting books and storing them in orange crates in City Hall, the building that houses your City Museum today. After some time we collected nearly 6,000 books, and members of the Woman's Club diligently donated their time to help the public check out books and organize the library.

In 1934, the city began collecting a library maintenance tax and formed a library board. The Woman's Club voted to give our entire collection of books to the city, and the local paper praised me for my tireless work in starting and organizing the library. Here’s what the paper said:

"Too much credit cannot be given the Woman's club as a whole and very especially to Miss Harriette Hills for what they have given the city in this library. Miss Hills was tireless in the work of starting the project, carrying on the huge task of cataloging the books and installing a filing system."

I passed away at the age of 76 on January 21, 1948, and my obituary recalled my devotion to the library, suggesting that if the city ever got its own library building, it should be named after me. The newspaper even said so, in my obituary:

"If, and when this city realizes its dream of a library building of its own, it would be fitting that it be named the "Harriette E. Hills Memorial Library", for she was, in fact, its founder."

35th Annual Tales Tombstones Tell

35th Annual Tales Tombstones - Tell Self Guided Tour

Welcome, history enthusiasts and curious minds! We're thrilled to invite you on a virtual journey through time with our self-guided tour of the 35th anniversary "Tales Tombstones Tell." This blog series will take you on a captivating exploration of local history, one gravestone at a time. Each post features the script and an accompanying video recording from a different stop on the cemetery walk, allowing you to experience the rich stories and forgotten tales etched in stone. Whether you're a longtime resident or a newcomer to our community, prepare to uncover the fascinating lives, triumphs, and tragedies of those who came before us. Let's embark on this historical adventure together, as we bring the past to life through the whispers of our Oakwood cemetery.

Welcome

Interpreter: Carol Visgnes
Stop 1

Good evening. Tonight, the City Museum is excited to present the 35th Annual Tales Tombstones Tell. In this anniversary year we continue the tradition of telling some of the stories of the people and events in West Chicago’s past.  The City Museum’s staff created this program in 1990 to bring the rich history of our community to life through the variety of life stories of the people buried here. Their stories are similar to the stories of many families across our country and world. 35 years of Tales Tombstones Tell could not have been possible without the help and support of the community.  They have truly allowed the museum to showcase our town’s history through this landmark of Oakwood Cemetery, and in the last few years Glen Oak and Cavalry Cemeteries as well. Since 1990, much has changed in West Chicago, including the beautiful new St. Mary’s Church just across the street from Oakwood, but much has also stayed the same and we are grateful to have these landmarks that help us talk about our community’s past. 

The stories you will hear tonight honor the lives of just a few residents who helped shape our community. West Chicago is currently commemorating its 175th year in existence. In 1849 three train lines crossed at the Junction that still exists today on West Washington Street near the library. A railroad town bloomed up from those tracks creating our town. The stories you hear tonight are part of the full expanse of the history of this community and the land we stand on, with a look to the very history we make each day we live our lives. 

This land also has an Indigenous history, one that the City Museum is working to better tell. What acknowledge that these lands were the ancestral homelands of the Kickapoo, Peoria, Kaskaskia, Potawatomi , Myaamia, Ho-Chunk / Winnebago, and Ogala Sioux peoples. The history of West Chicago’s founding in 1849 can only be told because those Native peoples were removed from this land to make way for the settlement of Turner Junction. Tonight, you will hear this community referred to as Junction, Turner and Turner Junction. West Chicago was originally known as Junction in 1849. In 1873 we were formally incorporated as Turner, but often called Turner Junction. In 1896 the town’s name was formally changed to West Chicago. This evening you will hear all those names used interchangeably. 

This ground that embodies so much of our town’s early history, Oakwood Cemetery, was founded in 1858, nine years after the railroad arrived and created our community. As West Chicago’s oldest cemetery, Oakwood represents the foundation of our community, with ties that spread to the other West Chicago cemeteries, and all over the world through ancestors and descendants. 

Today we greatly value the history here in Oakwood, but the cemetery has not always been well kept. There were times when cows would come in and graze amongst the headstones. Grave markers have been vandalized, stolen, worn and broken. At various times citizen groups struggled to find ways to maintain the cemetery, even as many people buried here no longer had descendants in the area to help. 

You can learn more about the history of Oakwood and those buried here at the City Museum.  The Museum’s collection holds many genealogical records and staff is happy to help with research requests. If you have a question that your guide is unable to answer, you can also contact the Museum for more information. Their phone number and email address are on the program that you will receive at the end of the tour.

We now invite you to walk the lighted path. At each station you will find your guide or two by a lantern. For your safety we ask two things: Please stay on the lighted path, and please do not play with the candles or climb on the tombstones. Enjoy the evening!

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