When Duncan was only 3 or so, we finally located a cemetery which my Dad visited as a little boy. The graves back in the woods, and they were covered with large slabs of limestone set up on limestone supports. Sort of like a box cover for the graves. Duncan only knew that we had "found" his "great great great." When it dawned on him that he was standing on Grandpa Allen, his little face was distressed..."Please get him out of there, Mama! He can't breathe in there!" When he understood that Grandpa Allen had been dead for 140 years he said, sadly, "Just bones now." He thought that we were going to visit with Grandpa Allen. He was touched by the tiny crypt cover which covered an unnamed child. Now we talk about what Grandpa Allen (and others) did when they lived. Duncan, now 6, still thinks that Grandpa Allen needs a new tractor (John Deere, of course). I can't convince him that Grandpa Allen used a mule to plow his many acres of lovely bottom land. Any cemetery prompts a "Do I have any Greats in this one, Mom?" I'm hoping to bring him to the Founders Day this fall and do some searching with him. The Hammonds/Heltons/Browns of Magoffin County are all on his side, not mine. Constance