‘Tis the season of witches, goblins, ghosts, and all things that go bump in the night. The wind rushes through tree branches, rustling leaves summon spirits to again visit their ancient domains — enchanted lands. An ethereal presence is felt as one walks along lonely pathways and winding lanes passing sites of sacred memory. One such spot on the Indianapolis east side in the Irvington neighborhood, behind the Speedway filling station at E. Washington St. and Emerson Ave., lying on a grassy rise ringed with aged Osage orange trees along the north side of Julian Ave, is the pioneer Wilson-Parker Cemetery.
Two hundred years ago in the fall of 1821, John Wilson of Connersville, Indiana made his way through primordial forests to claim eighty acres of land along the west-central edge of what would become Warren Township in Marion County. He built a cabin on a gentle hillside above a pleasant creek, and along the north side of the Centerville Road (the future roadbed of the Pennsylvania Railroad) he built a tavern. Later, when the National Road came through the township, Wilson relocated his tavern to what is now the northwest corner of East Washington St. and Butler Ave. (on the land now occupied by Irvington Butler-Washington Apartments).
Illness, disease, and accidents were prevalent among settlers, and it is probable that at some unknown time before 1840, death visited this pioneer homestead and mourners gathered to lay a loved one in a final resting place on the grassy knoll near the cabin. With this reverent act, the Wilson-Parker Cemetery was dedicated.
John Wilson died in May 1840 and, presumably, was buried in this little cemetery. His wife, Dorcas (Tabitha) Jones Orr Wilson, died on April 26, 1853, and was probably laid to rest next to her husband, although no record exists of either burial. The late genealogist Thelma Murphy, a descendent of John Wilson, recalled that Joseph Pouder, the brother of John Ellenberger’s wife, and Elizabeth Caylor, wife of Jacob Caylor, were buried in the cemetery. Oral tradition also holds that Wilson had a Native-American servant by the name of Machage who was probably buried in the Wilson-Parker Cemetery following his death.
Only ten stone markers are known to have stood in the cemetery recording the burials of Jacob Caylor (d. May 12, 1844, aged 67 y & 3 m); Sarah Parker (d. Sept 29, 1845, aged 62 y, 6 m & 12 d), wife of John Parker; Rebecca Jones (Feb. 18, 1776- April 27, 1847), wife of Timothy Orr; Harriet Caylor (d. Dec. 22, 1847, aged 9 y, 7 m & 22 d), daughter of J & C Caylor; John Latham (d. July 9, 1849, aged 62 y, 7 m & 12 d); Sarah L. Parker (d. April 18, 1851, aged 4 y, 1 m & 11 d), daughter of A & R Parker; Mary Ann Kealing (d. May 4, 1851, aged 18 y, 10 m & 24 d), wife of Jeremiah Kealing; Joseph W. Parker (d. Sept. 27, 1854, aged 1 y, 10 m & 5 d), son of Joseph & Angelina Parker; Ida Parker (d. Sept. 19, 1867, aged 2 y, 6 m & 4 d), daughter of A & R Parker; and Rebecca Parker (d. Jan. 1, 1871, aged 47 y, 9 m & 23 d), wife of Aquilla Parker.
Two additional unrecorded burials are also known to have occurred in the Wilson-Parker Cemetery. John Mitchell, a veteran of the American Revolution, who lived with the John Wilson family for “a number of years,” died at a neighboring farm on January 11, 1851 and “was buried in the Wilson burying ground.” His remains were later removed to the McVey Cemetery on Old Trails Rd. in the 1930s. Another burial was that of Henry A. Ellenberger. Early in 1853, John Ellenberger brought his family from Cincinnati to farm on the Sandusky place and settled in a cabin along the National Road east of what is now Audubon Rd. Elizabeth Ellenberger was pregnant with her fifth child who was born on March 6 shortly after their arrival. Later in the fall, little Henry was stricken with smallpox and died November 30, 1853. Other stories of internments mention guests who died while staying at the Wilson-Parker Tavern.
Henry Clay Parker, John Wilson’s grandson, died on February 19, 1904 at the family homestead, 15 S. Emerson Ave, leaving instructions to be buried in Crown Hill Cemetery in Indianapolis. He also provided for the exhumation of the remains of his father, Aquilla Parker, mother, Rebecca Wilson Parker, and sisters, Ida and Kate M. Parker, from the family cemetery and their reburial in the Crown Hill plot.
Hoosier Group artist William Forsyth moved into the Wilson-Parker homestead in 1906 and as the years passed the little pioneer cemetery began to silently fade into history. New generations of Irvingtonians found that the grounds around the weathered headstones provided a special place to hold “secret” meetings. Butler College grad Louise Padou (‘25) recalled the Scarlet Quill held its initiations there “with red candles on the headstones casting eerie shadows among the trees.” Other young women like Virginia Perkins and her girlfriend found the old graveyard “a delightful place for restful conversations and serious discussions . . . quiet and peaceful, with the muted Washington Street traffic in the background and maybe voices now and then wafting about. The Forsythe (sic) grounds were vine-covered and hedge-surrounded, full of trees and beautifully tranquil. It was an idyllic spot.” One day, Virginia came upon workmen clearing the cemetery of its headstones. She and her friends salvaged one, taking it home on a wagon. Other markers were rescued and found their way into the yards and gardens of Irvington homes, but overtime virtually all have now been lost. The only known surviving headstone is that of Rebecca Jones which is now in the collection of the Irvington Historical Society.
Is the Wilson-Parker Cemetery haunted? Many years ago, some boys lurking about the Forsyth studio next to the cemetery claimed to have looked through the studio window and saw “ghosts.” It turns out there weren’t any ghosts, just sculptured plaster heads created by the artist. Today the old studio and its “ghosts” are gone, and most likely so are any apparitions that may have once stirred in the pioneer burial ground. However, one never knows what mystical phenomena may be revealed on All Hallows’ Eve.