Read Part 2

In 2014, I located the cemetery where Simpson was buried, hoping to get more information about him and the location of his grave. Sometime later I actually went to the cemetery with high hopes and high expectations of actually visiting the gravesite. Unfortunately, on my first trip I was unable to locate it. The following visit was no more productive, even though I had better information on the location of the grave. But there was no headstone or other indicator that I was in the right place. Perhaps the third trip would be the charm.

It was another year before I finally had an excuse to go back to the east coast. I was going out to an open house at the historical society where Simpson’s papers are located—where I did the bulk of my research and discovered Simpson and his remarkable life.  By now we had published the first book, and I thought it would be a good opportunity to promote the book and see friends we’d made during the research. Oddly, even though we had published a lot about Simpson’s life in that book, it only made me more curious and determined to find his final resting place. This time I was going to find Simpson’s grave–I could just feel it. 

The trip got off to an inauspicious start. The flight to the east coast was miserable. I had to fly through Boston, and there were rolling thunder storms up and down the east coast, wreaking havoc with air travel schedules. I barely made it onto a flight to get me to my meetings the next day. I finally got into Philadelphia very late and by the time I picked up my car and drove 45 minutes north to Montgomeryville, Pennsylvania it was 3.30 in the morning. I was supposed to be at my first meeting at 9.30AM, about 20 minutes from the hotel, so needless to say I did not get much sleep. 

I went to my meeting in the morning and then I started working my way south to Vineland. My first stop was at the location of Henry Auchy’s famous Chestnut Hill Park, the site of one of the earliest successful venues for Skee-Ball, that first year the game was on the market. It’s now known as James A. Cisco Park, and its history as a famous amusement park has been lost. I took some pictures there. 

I took a couple of pictures of Henry Auchy’s house which is still standing as well—with no markers. Then I went around the corner to photograph the old Wheel Pump Inn. It’s said that the animosity between the owner of The Wheel Pump Inn and Chestnut Hill Park played a big part in Auchy’s decision to close the park. The abrupt closing of the park was a big blow to Skee-Ball back in 1912, and a huge blow to Simpson. But there was no trace of this history anywhere in the neighborhood. Again, the specter of obscurity. 

I left the park and worked my way south to Duval Street in Philadelphia where Auchy’s  Philadelphia Toboggan Company used to be located—where three Skee-Ball alleys were built for Chestnut Hill park, and where 35 years later, they would be built once again. The building was still standing, but boarded up, with the paint peeling and in shabby disrepair.

Finally, I worked my way south again, to the cemetery. This time, I would be more methodical.  Using the mansion at the cemetery as the starting point, I worked my way down to section H again. I noticed on the map that in addition to the various sections being mapped out, there were two other features about the map that had escaped my attention. 

First between the various sections I realized there were “paths” that correlated to the brick paths at the cemetery.

The second thing I noticed was that there were boxes drawn in some of the sections some with open sides, some completely closed. It finally dawned on me that those boxes on the map correlated to areas in the cemetery that had actual walls or some kind of bounding stone work that set off a group of graves. Using that I tried to determine where the bounds of the section where lots 92-94 would be. 

It was a Thursday, and the cemetery was all but deserted. I searched quietly by myself. I sensed that I was close, but I couldn’t seem to find what I was looking for. I stood there in my best Indiana Jones pose, surveying the landscape. It was hot with the August sun was beating down, and it felt like I was looking for a needle in a haystack. Unfortunately I couldn’t use the strategy some others have suggested when looking for a needle in a haystack, namely burn down the haystack. I hated that I might have to give up yet again, but I needed to get to Vineland for dinner with friends and colleagues. Frustrated, I got in the car and wended my way south. I wasn’t sure that I could get back on this trip but I felt that I was so close that I did not want to give up.

Friday, I was scheduled to go to the Jersey shore to scout locations for the documentary we are working on, so I got up and drove to Atlantic City. I walked around on the newer part of the boardwalk, where everything was shiny and modern.

A little farther down the boardwalk were the remains of the Taj Mahal Resort and Casino, now shut down due to bankruptcy. Walking a few blocks off the boardwalk I was reminded what happened to Atlantic City in the 1970s, when the first casinos moved in. The houses were boarded up as far as the eye could see and there were no people. Things have gotten slightly better, but much of Atlantic City is depressing once you leave the boardwalk. No traces of a time when it was brimming with excitement and energy. Those days have long gone. But before the day was out, I went to Point Pleasant to play some Skee-Ball in honor of my youthful days at the shore, and in memory of its inventor. And then it was time to head back.

Saturday I spent my day at the open house of the Vineland Historical and Antiquarian Society and the talk which followed about New Jersey diners. All in all a fascinating day.

I woke up Sunday realizing I had an open schedule. It was time go back to the cemetery in Philadelphia and try one more time to locate Simpson’s grave. I had been giving the search a great deal of thought as I drove back and forth to the shore and realized I had some tools which I had not been using that might make the search easier. Thinking like a computer scientist (which is what I am after all), I decided that if I could locate other graves in the area and determine their lot numbers I would be able to zero in on the area where Simpson and the family ought to be. This was the first original strategy I had come up with in some time and I was heartened that I might finally find his grave. 

So I drove back to the cemetery. I started back at the mansion and then drove around until I got to section H. Using the Maps app on my iPhone the first thing I noticed was that I was once again on the wrong road in the cemetery on Thursday when I was last here, now I was one road over and some of the landmarks made more sense. I used the cemetery app searching for graves and was not finding anything, so I switched over to the FindAGrave app. That was giving me better results but things were slow going. I would look up a grave and find that it was in the 170s meaning I was too far in the wrong direction. So I would go a few graves down and try again. Sometimes there wasn’t any lot information so I was guessing. 

An hour passed, then two. I was still looking. I knew that I was finally in the right area but I couldn’t find what I was looking for. Finally I found a grave with the designator H93. Huh? H93? That’s right in the middle of the Simpson plot. And what does N1/2 mean? 

I sat down and thought. I’m in the right spot but things were not lining up. This was the closest I had ever been! I walked back and forth, looked around, looked at the ground like something would leap up at me. Nothing. There were several toppled stones but even the smallest was far heavier than I could move. Reluctantly I slowly started to give up. I took a panoramic picture from where I thought the grave might be and some shots of the grave marker at H93 (did I mention that at times I felt like I was playing Battle Ship?).

I had noticed that Simpson’s beloved aunt Sophia Maria Brognard’s grave was also in the cemetery so before I left I thought I’d see if I could find her grave.

Now armed with a better knowledge of the cemetery I dutifully marched off to section F where she was buried and went looking—for over an hour. I could not find anything. It was obvious that I was in the right area, but there was no marker. Was it possible that she was buried without a marker? There was a man playing saxophone sitting on top of one of the mausoleums. It had an appropriately haunting sound. I asked him what ne knew about the cemetery and he told me that he didn’t know anything and went back to playing his haunting tune.

I walked back to where I had been searching for Simpson’s grave looked around one last time then went back to the car and drove back to my hotel. I had one final idea.

Monday morning I called the cemetery and explained my search. The nice person that I spoke to pulled up Simpson’s plot information and told me she had bad news for me. The plots had never had headstones or other markers. I asked about the possibility of having a headstone added and was told that generally the addition of markers to historical graves was not allowed but I could file a petition asking for a waiver.

I drove to the airport, somewhat depressed and flew home. Relatively speaking the flight was uneventful. The following day, Tuesday, I sent a note requesting a picture of the gravesite and information about filing a petition. 

I got the pictures a couple of days later, and found I had, in fact, found Simpson’s grave. I’d been sitting at the gravesite. 

I sat staring into space for a few moments. In one of Simpson’s articles about the beautiful game of Skee-Ball, he had noted:

“Games that are played when they have become old are rare. Of those that remain, their origins are lost in antiquity.” 

He wrote that in 1909. And the words were prophetic. One hundred and ten years later, Simpson had indeed been lost to antiquity.  But that would not be the end of the story if I had anything to say about it. 

And a plan began to take shape…

About the author:

Thaddeus Cooper is the co-author of Seeking Redemption: The Real Story of the Beautiful Game of Skee-Ball, a deep dive into the history of the game. You can find more information about Thaddeus, and his co-author, and their book, at: http://www.nomoreboxes.com/.

Read Part 1

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In 2014, I located the cemetery where Simpson was buried, hoping to get more information about him and the location of his grave. Sometime later I actually went to the cemetery with high hopes and high expectations of actually visiting the gravesite. Unfortunately, on my first trip I was unable to locate it. But I was undeterred and decided that on my next trip to the Vineland, NJ and the East Coast I would return and resume the hunt.

About a month before that next trip to Vineland, I returned to thinking about finding Simpson’s grave in earnest.  My co-author and I had been deep into the research about Simpson as we began drafting the book. We had access to his professional letters, business papers, as well as his personal correspondence and photographs. Reading and re-reading these, I was immersed in the very real struggles, hopes, frustration and occasional joy and optimism of his life—as well as his sadness and loss of those things dear to him, right up until his death in 1930. I was somehow more motivated and determined to find his final resting place, and anything else it could tell us. 

I had been doing some genealogy research for other subjects using FindAGrave.com and decided to look up Simpson. I could not find him, but I was able to locate his brother Gardiner and his mother, Josephine. Knowing that Simpson was buried in the same plot, I was encouraged that I would be able to use the information that was in their database. I pulled up the record and the plot information was notated somewhat differently. It was shown as H92-94 N1/2. A lightbulb went off in my head. I was looking in the wrong place. The grave was not in Section N, but in Section H, and N was the plot designator. 

It reminded me of that scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark when Indy is in the desert looking for the ark and realizes that the Germans are “digging in the wrong spot.” Well I’m no Indiana Jones, and I certainly did not have a Staff of Rah with a headpiece with writing on two sides and an offset crystal in the center, but I did have a new insight and a new place to look. I also reminded myself that almost all archaeology is done in the library and X never marks the spot. Well as I said, I’m no Indiana Jones, but I went back to New Jersey and eventually the cemetery, I had no idea how prophetic that statement would be. 

This time I went directly to the H section of the cemetery and found the area where lots 92-94 were supposed to be located. Key phrase: Supposed to be. I looked everywhere for a marker or headstone or sign. It was hot, there was no shade and I was getting frustrated. Standing in the midst of the monuments was confusing. You could look in most any direction and see nothing other than grave markers and the Veteran’s Administration Hospital in the distance. 

Like Simpson, I’m no quitter, and wouldn’t give up. As with my last trip I found a couple of people to help me and we went looking in earnest. As much as time was standing still for those interred there, time was flying by for me. I did not want to admit defeat, but it was clear that I was not going to find Simpson’s grave this time either. I left feeling frustrated and somewhat dejected. Not only did I fail to find the grave, but now I did not have a plan that would significantly improve the odds of finding his grave the next time around. I needed time away from this little project and I needed to regroup.

Time passed…

About the author:

Thaddeus Cooper is the co-author of Seeking Redemption: The Real Story of the Beautiful Game of Skee-Ball, a deep dive into the history of the game. You can find more information about Thaddeus, and his co-author, and their book, at: http://www.nomoreboxes.com/.

I was reminded over the weekend of our impermanence on this small planet. In a matter of but a few years we can go from well-known and recognized, to forgotten, and in short order, to utter obscurity. If there is no marker of our existence, however small but tangible, we will move from obscurity to complete invisibility. It has given me a moment of pause about how I would like to be remembered. All of this reflection was brought about by my search for the grave of Joseph Fourestier Simpson. As his biographer, I felt the deep seated need to find his grave and spend a few moments with him; to acknowledge to the world that someone had indeed remembered him; and to leave a mark behind so that other people might know that someone cared enough to visit.

It all began in 2010, when I was looking to get back into shooting video, and I set out to create a 10 minute YouTube piece about the origins of the now 110 year old game of Skee-Ball. Digging into the history, I unexpectedly discovered the long forgotten inventor, and his papers that gave a fascinating picture of his life, his drive to create, and his challenges and struggles. He had been long forgotten, but I was determined to change all that, and share his contribution with the world. 

While working on the research, I got the opportunity to read and re-read Simpson’s letters, and study the drawings of his inventions, speculating about what they might be. My co-author and I spent endless hours debating the finer points of his life and Skee-Ball’s history to the point where Simpson almost became a member of the household—the fascinating uncle everyone wanted to spend time with. We quoted passages from the letters and and made references to photographs of him. To me, even though I had never met him in person, he was as much a part of my life as anyone else I know today.

One last thing on my list of discoveries was to locate his grave and anything else it would tell us. Simpson lived and died in the Philadelphia and Southern New Jersey area, while I live on the West Coast, so my opportunity to get back to that area was limited, to say the least.

My first opportunity to search for his grave came in 2014.  I contacted the cemetery where Simpson was buried and asked for information about him. At that point I was mostly interested in family details that might have been provided to the cemetery as part of his interment. We were about two years away from writing our first book about him, “Seeking Redemption: The Real Story of the Beautiful Game of Skee-Ball” and I was very much focused on the research. I sent a letter requesting whatever information the cemetery might have and in September 2014 I received a reply with information about the gravesite, who was buried there, and a map. I decided that on my next trip to Vineland, I would go to the cemetery in Philadelphia and find the grave. How hard could this be? After all I had the lot number, a map, and an afternoon. 

Had I only known.

The first time I went to the cemetery, I have to admit I was wholly unprepared for what I was getting into. If you have not been to a cemetery before let me give you some context. First even the smallest cemetery is large. The cemetery I was at was not only large, it was huge.

Now imagine a city with obscure addresses like N 1/2-H92-94 and no street signs to guide you. Additionally there may or may not be a structure at the address, so you could walk past the “house” you are searching for none the wiser.

At any rate, I jumped in with both feet and dutifully made my way to the part of the cemetery where I understood Simpson was buried, Section N. The cemetery office had provided a map, and I drove to the section with high spirits and high expectations.

I began looking. A half an hour passed quickly, then an hour. I was keenly aware of the limited time I’d have to devote to hunting. So I began asking strangers for help.  Soon, I had half a dozen people helping me search, including a random dog-walker who happened to be using the nearby path. Everyone was having a great time working on the hunt, but at the end of the day I was back where I started. Standing in the N section of this large city of monuments to the deceased, generations of relatives whose deaths caused untold grieving, I was no closer to finding Simpson. I knew this would not be my last visit, but it would be a while before I would be able to come back.

After flying back to the west coast, I continued to work on the research for the book, but my interest in finding his grave kept nagging at me. I decided that the next trip out to Vineland would be a good excuse to go back to the cemetery to try and find Simpson again.

About the author:

Thaddeus Cooper is the co-author of Seeking Redemption: The Real Story of the Beautiful Game of Skee-Ball, a deep dive into the history of the game. You can find more information about Thaddeus, his co-author, and their book, at: http://www.nomoreboxes.com/.