Staff Writer Stacy Van Buskirk and her great-aunt, Ruth McMillan
Harshaw Chapel will always be special to me because it is the final resting place for one of the most beloved people in my life. I would venture to say that I am the youngest person in Cherokee County to personally know and love someone buried in the historic Harshaw Cemetery.
Growing up, I was always close to my great-aunt Ruth McMillan. She lived alone at the old family home in Martins Creek, and my parents and I moved to live near her as her heath was a concern. I was a 5-year-old only child who had no other people to play with when we moved to Martins Creek from Brasstown, where I was surrounded by cousins my age. While I had a close relationship to my aunt Ruthie before, moving near her increased the bond tenfold.
I would go to her house daily, as it was just a short walk from my own. She had several cats who lived around the property, one in particular named Odd-ball who had a strange coloring for a calico cat. Ruth would listen to Billy Graham and old hymns on an old record player or maybe even a Victrola. It wasn't uncommon to come into her home through the creaking screen door to find her watching one of our favorite television shows, The Dukes of Hazzard.
We would spend the days together and in that time, she instilled in me a moral compass that has never gone off course. She taught me how to appreciate where I came from, my heritage as an Appalachian American and my deep roots in Christ. I know how to sing shape notes because of her and got a deep sense of my own walk with Christ at a tender young age.
She would let me play "post office" with the old junk mail that came everyday, and we would sit on the porch guessing the color of the next car that drove by. Her house didn't have an indoor bathroom, and the old canning house still stood by the creek that runs along the property.
May 30, 1997, was the first time I ever knew the loss of a loved one. I was almost 7 years old, and my best friend had passed away. When my parents were cleaning out her house, we found a small jewelry box with my name on it. It was a gold necklace with a pink stone, and I just knew she was waiting to give it to me.
The memories of her still remain, and I have a desire to show my love and respect for her through taking it upon myself to make sure the graves are decorated and cleaned. When I started to drive, I would find myself in the Harshaw Cemetery when I felt like I needed someone to talk to.
Ruth is buried next to her parents, Hershel and Reatha Gibson McMillan. Nearby are my great-great grandparents and other uncles, aunts and cousins on the Gibson side. In 2020, my husband, Nathaniel, and I cleaned the headstones on my family's graves as they were blackened and becoming illegible.
I am excited to finally get the opportunity to do more for Harshaw Chapel. I was interested in the Friends of Harshaw Chapel group when I first read about them in the Cherokee Scout many years ago, before I worked at the local newspaper. I want to be a part of something that will help the chapel continue to be a historic landmark in my hometown and be a steward for my own family buried on the scared ground.
I am more than excited to see how the future of the chapel unfolds and be a part of the voice that will lift it back up to where it can be used by the people of this town again. I look forward to being a steward for my own family's history at Harshaw.