THE CEMETERY OF MANY NAMES
By Lou Bernard
I’ve gotten sort of a crash course on Keating Township recently. I’ve received an upswing in questions from the general public about the families who lived up there, so I’ve had to do some research. Which is nice, as I’ve always felt that Keating Township has a fascinating history. And, yes, I’m aware that there are two Keating Townships, East and West, but I’ve always felt that was pointless as there are about six people between them.
The area was largely settled by escaped slaves coming north on the Underground Railroad, who quite correctly felt that Keating was remote enough nobody would find them. Even today, Keating is one of the most remote places in the state. Some of the cemeteries up there are filled mostly with the families of former slaves.
Recently, I’ve been looking into one that isn’t. It may have originated as the Kryder Cemetery, not to be confused with the 347 other Kryder Cemeteries in Clinton County.
If you were driving up Route 120 between Westport and Keating, you might or might not notice it—It’s a small, open area, nestled in the trees and overlooking the Susquehanna River. According to records from the Clinton County Genealogical Society, who would know, it probably began as a burial ground for the Kryder family. Settler John Kryder and his family lived in the area, and the oldest grave there seems to be one of their children, Letha Kryder, buried in 1836.
John Kryder was a man of many talents; he was known as a hunter, rafter, lumberman, and carpenter. The truth is, back in those days it paid to be multi-talented—As you couldn’t exactly dash off to a local business when you lived in a remote area and your transportation was a cow, you pretty much had to fend for yourself. John married to daughter of one of the earliest settlers in the area, who came to Keating to guard his father’s claim to the land.
John’s wife, Mattie, is buried in the cemetery, oddly under her maiden name. John himself is most likely buried next to her, though there seems to be only a footstone marking his grave. He’s sure as hell not buried anyplace else, at least.
But it’s not known as the Kryder Cemetery. It’s known as the Keating or Gakle Cemetery, among those who know it at all.
John’s daughter, Clarissa, married Wallace Gakle. Gakle was a prominent man, a Civil War veteran who served terms as county commissioner and county treasurer. He and his wife established a brewery on South Fairview Street in Lock Haven in the late 1800s, on the corner of Fairview and Bald Eagle. It wasn’t far from my house, which I find cool. (I wish there was still a brewery near my house.) Gakle was well known, county-wide, and very active in all sorts of things.
So when he died in 1906, and was buried in that specific cemetery, it came to be associated with his name. It’s a little surprising to find a prominent former county commissioner buried in an out-of-the-way cemetery in the remotest township we have, but stranger things have happened. So with the burial of Wallace Gakle, people began referring to it as the Gakle Cemetery. Which makes a certain amount of sense. It’s also been referred to as the Keating Cemetery, which is the other option, but that’s not really specific enough—There are at least a dozen cemeteries up there that could reasonably be called “Keating Cemetery,” some of them a lot harder to get to.
The cemetery predates the county itself by three years, at least. It’s gone by several names, and it’s almost not noticeable as you drive past it. But there’s history there, if you just stop and look.
