It's now January 2026. I've decided to use this space to talk about anything I want. Hubby and I went to plan our funerals in advance. I naively thought I'd have a traditional, open-casket funeral (rented casket), viewing in the funeral home, graveside ceremony in East Linwood with military honors. Ha! Just for the funeral stuff alone (body would be cremated), it was going to be $14K-$16K. That didn't include plot and tombstone. I'd much rather spend that kind of money on this side of the grave, so we both opted for the cheapest thing there is: immediate cremation and no service. My friends and family can have a celebration of life at a pavilion in Lincoln Park. Maybe after I'm long gone, someone will stumble here and read my musings.

I have an idea for a tombstone that I would like to have, but I'll never be able to afford it. Actually, I could, but, as I said, I'd rather spend my $ on this side of the grave. It'd have to be a large stone. I'd want a cemetery scavenger hunt on the back of it. As I go through cemeteries, I see many things that would be fun to find on a scavenger hunt. Here are some examples:

Pictures of pets

Foreign phrases

Spelling or punctuation error (there's one of each in East Linwood)

A famous person's name (there are several James Taylors all over Galesburg, and you can't throw a stone in St. Joseph's cemetery without hitting a Margaret O'Brien. I'll count Donald McClean for Don McClean of American Pie fame. That funky cube-shaped stone in Linwood is John Dean. I see famous names all the time.)

A sports team logo

A tombstone shaped like something else (a lot of children's graves are big teddy bears, and there's a motorcycle shaped grave in East Linwood. Abingdon has a child's grave shaped like a carousel horse).

End (I'm going to the bottom of this now and update on my dogs.)

Why I Decided Cemeteries Are a Good Place to Walk My Dogs

I started walking my dogs in the cemeteries because Galesburg doesn't have too many places that are people- and dog-free. Dixie was always convinced that any dog was out to attack her Gramma (me), and she would bark and growl at other dogs to protect me. Both my dogs are the sweetest dogs in the world, or rather, Dixie was. We had to put her down July 2025. Woody, the absolute best dog ever, has one minor character flaw. He likes little kids. Too much. We discovered this when our neighbors in Florida came to drop off some homemade pumpkin bread for Christmas, and Woody tried to mount their little girl. She thought he wanted a piggyback ride, but all of us adults knew better. So, we always have to be careful around dogs and children because of both dogs. Dog parks are out.

I did take them to the trails in the woods at Lake Storey once, but they both decided to take off and jump in the lake. With Woody, it was no problem, but Dixie was another story. She couldn't get out, and I had to get in the lake and rescue her. It wasn't anywhere near the beach part, but somewhere off where the lake was mucky and soft on the bottom. I couldn't get enough purchase to push her onto the land. As I did, my feet would sink. I started thinking I might actually have to yell for someone to help me, but I told myself it was do or die and pushed with all my might as I sank. I got her ashore. Never again.

I started taking the dogs to the local cemeteries for their daily outings. I kept their leashes around my neck in case someone comes to visit their loved ones' graves. I'd leash them up. Sometimes people will say, "Oh, look, a dog. Is he friendly? Can I pet him?" Then, I will let them off leash to get petted, which is what both of them think humans were put on the planet to do. Of course, if children are there, I have to keep Woody leashed.

I guess I can never run for office now. My opponent could say, "Julie Johnson once referred to pedophilia as a 'minor character flaw.'" Woody isn't exactly a pedophile. It's more of a size thing. He likes to try to mount people who are about four feet tall or shorter.

End

Finding Mrs. Dahleen, My Second-Grade Teacher

Before I started my "creepy little hobby" taking pics for Find a Grave, I took my dogs to the cemeteries, pretty much daily. One day, I was in what-I-thought-was Linwood Cemetery, but it was actually Memorial. (At the time, I didn't know they were two separate cemeteries, and to this day, I'm not sure where one begins and the next one ends.) I ran across a tombstone that had the names Russell and Audrey Dahleen on it. I immediately recognized the name Audrey Dahleen, and I could still picture her signature on my second-grade report card (it's in my scrapbook). It said she was born in 1924, and there was no death date. It was July of 2022, so I did the math and figured, if she's alive, she could be 98 years old.

I found out she was still alive and she lived in a local nursing home. I was so excited! But, I was 63 years old, so second grade was a long, long time ago. Would she remember me?

Covid was on its way out, and I was vaccinated, but I thought, "There's no way they're going to let me visit a 98-year-old lady in a nursing home," so I decided I'd get her a card and drop it off. I wrote her a letter, too, to remind her who I was. Here's the letter:

July 29, 2022

Dear Mrs. Dahleen,

         My name is Julie Johnson and I was in your second-grade class back in 1965-1966. I remember you well. I think you may have had all three of my sisters, Jamie, Janet, and Jennifer before I was in your class. I remember in March, you would put a lion and lamb on the classroom door with the expression "March—in like a lion, out like a lamb." I still think of you and that door every time March begins. 

         After I graduated from GHS (in 1976), I joined the Navy, saw the world, and retired. My husband retired in 2020 and we began looking for a place to live. He suggested Galesburg (although he's never lived here) because I still have family and friends here. I was tickled to move back to the hometown.

         I walk our two dogs, Woody and Dixie, twice a day. One of our favorite places to walk is Linwood Cemetery (East Linwood is great, too). It's strange seeing the tombstones of many of my friends' parents, and even some of my friends. The other day, I was walking and saw "Audrey Dahleen" on a tombstone. I thought, "That's my second-grade teacher!" Then I noticed there was no date of death. I did the math and realized you'd be nearly 98 years old. I was excited to think you may still be alive (I say "may" because many tombstones have no death date, but the person would be over 110 years old if they still lived). When I got home, I posted my discovery on Facebook and asked if anyone knew if you were still alive, and, if so, where you were. Several people answered me. They knew you went to the Lutheran Church and someone knew you lived at Seminary Manor. Anne Carmen-Hendel said she taught with you at Steele and knew she wanted to be just like you when she grew up. 

         I was excited and wanted to get a card and letter to you. I went to Hy Vee and looked for a card. I was looking for something cheery that wasn't a birthday, anniversary, or congratulations card. They really didn't have such a thing. Then it hit me that a "Thank you" card would be appropriate. Thank you for teaching me how to write in cursive. Thank you for teaching me to indent my paragraphs, and to begin a new paragraph anytime someone new is speaking in a dialogue. You, Mrs. Shoemaker, and all my L. T. Stone teachers made me a life-long lover of learning. I loved your class, and you, so much. I would love to stop by and see you some time if you're up to it. If there's anything you want me to bring you, let me know (hint: I love to bake). 

         You can call me at --- -- ----. I understand your sight isn't too good lately, so I hope you have found someone to read you this letter. 

         Also, I want you to know, I will keep an eye on Mr. Dahleen's grave and put some flowers on it. I'll probably put a painted rock on it, too. 

                                                                  Love, Julie

I masked up and headed to her nursing home. I walked into the main office, expecting to drop off the letter. The receptionist looked up and asked me what I wanted. I said, "I have something for Audrey Dahleen"

She responded, "She's in room 406."

I was shocked. I was actually going to get to see her. I went to her room and she was alone, sitting in a wheelchair. I greeted her and told her who I was. Not only did she remember me, but she remembered all my sisters, my next-door neighbors, and even the day Greg Coors stole an eraser and she had to punish him for it. Her mind was sharp. I read her my letter. Although she was nearly blind, she had a magnifying glass that she used to read things. She corrected me on the Memorial/Linwood mix-up, and told me she regretted having Russell's grave so far from the road because she wasn't able to get to it when she was more mobile.

I found out she loved sweets and I would usually take her some leftover pie or cake from my Thursday card club. Eventually, her magnifying glass was replaced by a big thing that looked kind of like an overhead projector. She could put a piece of paper under it and it would display it huge so she could read it. She was tickled that I would put flowers on her husband's grave and bring her pics of it. (My hubby even put up a shepherd's crook so I could hang things.) She and I always had lovely visits.

The last time I visited her, she told me it was her first day in hospice. She was 99 years old and would turn 100 that November. I said, "Oh, Mrs. Dahleen, you can make it to 100!" She said, no, she was ready to go. I guess she knows best.

I didn't hear of her passing and I was disappointed that I missed her funeral. But, I know where she is, and I like seeing the dates on her tombstone that say, 1924-2024. Nobody can tell she didn't make it to 100.

End

I'm writing from the top down, so this is all old stuff, although it's still November, 2025.

Now it's November 2025. I've been at this a little over two years and I just took a pic of my 10,000th tombstone. Whoo hoo! I really enjoy (as I call it) my "creepy little hobby." Not only am I learning so much about the history of towns around me, but I'm learning a lot about names. People used to put their nicknames on their graves. Oh, they still do today, but nowadays, they'll say Richard or William, with Dick and Billy in quotation marks. Not in the old days. People go to their Maker with "Nettie" (Annette), Tillie (Matilda), and Lizzy (Elizabeth) on their tombstones. And the changes in popular names over the years are interesting. I have a friend named Harriet who is always complaining that no one else has her name. I said, "Oh, Harriet, come with me to Hope Cemetery where you can't throw a stone without hitting a Harriet." I also now understand where some of the last names come from. I always knew Johnson, Williamson, Frederickson, etc. were for "son of John," "son of William," and "son of Frederick," but where do Nelson, Anderson, and Swanson come from? One walk through Hope Cemetery, and I learned: Nels, Anders, and Swan were very common Swedish first names.

Oct 2025 update: I changed my pic to show my dog Woody lying among the graves while I do my work. I used to take Dixie with me, too, but we had to put her down in July.

I will bend myself into pretzel shapes to keep my shadow or my reflection from being in a picture, but you may see either of my dogs in your photos sometimes. I never pose them, of course, but if they happen to be in the pic and they aren't obscuring the info on the tombstone, they stay. I think people should consider themselves lucky to have Woody or Dixie in their pictures, especially Dixie, now that she's gone.

I think I'm getting close to my 10,000th picture. Here's what I wrote when I first started taking pics of tombstones for Find a Grave:

I moved to Illinois in 2020 and have been walking my dogs in the local cemeteries. I found this web site and thought, "Sheesh! I can do that." I downloaded East Linwood yesterday and found about 15 graves. I got pics and uploaded them.

Update: I've been at this for almost a year now and just took my 5,000th pic of a grave. I recently learned to suggest edits, and I've become a bit of a stickler for identifying veterans. I read through the obituaries, when available, looking for any time spent in the service. Obviously, if the grave has a service member stone, I suggest the edit. My other "proof" is something on the stone itself, like "WW II Veteran" or "Purple Heart Recipient" or any such phrase.

I will also make suggestions if the dates on the stone don't match the memorial dates, or if the spelling of a name doesn't match, etc. I know the stones can be wrong, so I'm really just pointing out that there may be a discrepancy. Feel free to ignore it if you have more reliable sources telling you otherwise.

More than a year has passed now since I did that last update. Last week, I finished the two cemeteries in Altona and the one in Oneida. It's Oct 2025, so if there's no grave picture on your memorial, it's because the stone was too old for me to read, there is no stone, or that person hadn't died yet. I tried to get all the veterans recognized (and there are a LOT of them in Oneida) and all the graves GPS'd. I also married up spouses and kids as best I could through suggestions.

I started Abingdon (again) this week. I was there a year or so ago, but I didn't do the whole cemetery. The sexton was kind enough to give me the key to the big mausoleum there, so I got all the graves in there. Now, I'm starting on the old part of the cemetery in the back, and I got zero bars on my phone at the bottom of that hill, so I just went around and took a bunch of pictures of graves and sorted it out on my desktop at home. I'm still working on it. Unfortunately, those graves won't be GPS'd if I can't get any bars. I'm pretty sure I'll get my bars back once I get up the hill.

I refer to this as my "creepy little hobby." Since I started making suggestions to get the veterans acknowledged, I've been reading the obituaries to see if it says anything about service. I'm learning a LOT. Old obituaries would often give specific details of how people died--even in gruesome ways. And they say things like, "He was the richest man in town and lived in the big mansion on such-and-such-a street." Things you'd never read today. I'm learning about quarantines and typhoid outbreaks. The founders. It's as if I have my own little Spoon River Anthology going on every time I do an outing.

My Dog Update

We put Dixie down in July 2025 and Woody in January 2026. Both days were so sad. We saw Dixie's death coming, as she was having seizures and they were getting more frequent and more severe. Woody's demise came on an ordinary day when he simply could no longer use his hind legs and he seemed to be in pain. We called the vet and they said it was probably time for the rainbow bridge. Hubby and I cried as he carried Woody to the car. We sang to him as he was dying and told him what a good boy he was. And he was the best.

Without dogs, Hubby and I did some traveling. He went off on a few trips on his Harley, and I took an Alaskan cruise, then a trip to New York. Hubby wasn't sure he wanted to get a new dog, because putting Woody and Dixie down was so difficult. But, on August 19, 2026, he said, "Why don't we go to the shelter and look?" Off we went. We came home with a bonded pair--brother and sister, believed to be about four years old. Their names at the shelter were L. J. (him) and Karma (her). We renamed them Peanut and Lucy, but that night I made meatloaf. While Hubby and I were enjoying our slices of meatloaf in the dining room, I heard a noise in the kitchen. I went out there to find then-Peanut (now Meatloaf) standing up to reach the stove with his head in the meatloaf. He licked most of the ketchup off the top and had made his way into the actual meat part about a quarter way down. Hence, his new name.

We sent Lucy and Meatloaf's DNA off to a lab. They are definitely brother and sister, and they have another brother in Alexis, Illinois. Their brother's name is Bucky, and we learned that the three of them were chained to a dumpster in a blizzard. The next day, the Humane Society picked them up and took Lucy and Bucky to a vet. I guess Meatloaf went straight to the shelter. Bucky had to have a leg amputated, and a lady who worked at the vet took him home. I told the story on FB, and a friend of mine says she knows Bucky's owner. I told her to give her my phone number. I think she did, but I haven't heard from her.

The DNA kit revealed that Lucy and Meatloaf are indeed mutts. Mostly Lab and Aussie, with some Pit bull, Great Pyrenees, and German Shepherd. We didn't pay the extra money to find out their ages, but Bucky's owner did. Assuming they're from the same litter (and I'm pretty sure they are), they were born about December 30, 2023. We didn't think they were four, as the shelter said. Too much puppy in them.

Lucy and Meatloaf are not ready to be off leash at the cemeteries. They have a pet door and fenced yard, and they have escaped three times. Meatloaf was able to knock the hinge thing up and they both got out. They came right back when I called them. Hubby put a pin in the gate, but they got out anyway. Their names and my phone number are embroidered on their collars, and a kind neighbor about two blocks away called and said she had them. (Meatloaf's collar says "Peanut" because I'd already ordered them before we changed his name. I figure as long as the phone number is correct, it shouldn't matter.)

I am hoping some day I can take Lucy and Meatloaf to cemeteries off leash, but it will be a while before I'll feel safe. Now, I take them to the dog park in Galesburg. They are very good with other dogs, unlike Dixie, who thought every dog was on the planet to attack her Gramma (me), and it was up to her to see that they didn't.

End