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SCHOHARIE   COUNTY   HISTORICAL   REVIEW   —   Spring 2001

Soldiers Memorial — Keyserkill Cemetery

It is believed the memorial was dedicated at a Decoration Day Celebration. The boulder is said to have come from the Keyerskill Creek. Howard Porter, Bert Proper, and Ray Waters put in the foundation for the memorial. But who, person or group, supplied the brass plaque with the names? Warren Hallock’s name bears the most recent date, 1893-1965. Can you help solve the mystery?

Soldiers Memorial
Keyserkill Cemetery, Town of Broome, Schoharie County, New York
Ora (Orra) Duncan 1829-1916 **Co. D 134 NY Inf. Civil War
Jerry (Jeremiah) Jackson 1843-1925 *Co. E 134 NY Inf. Civil War
Abram Walker 1846-1880 or 70 **Co. E 7th NY Heavy Art Civil War
James M. Tibbetts 1841-1923 **Co. E 7th NY Heavy Art Civil War
William Finch 1840-1882 **Co. E 134 NY Inf. Civil War
Charles N. Wood 1839-1911 *Co. D 134 NY Inf. Civil War
Reuben Cain 1842-1913 *Co. D 134 NY Inf. Civil War
John Haskin 1834-1919 *Co. F 7th NY Heavy Art Civil War
Dennis Bevins 1820-1888 *Co. A 7th NY Heavy Art Civil War
Harvey OBrien (Brines) 1831-1908 *Co. M 7th NY Heavy Art Civil War
William Lee 1792-1878 *Veteran War of 1812
John Proper 1841-1908 *Co. K 80th NY (20th Militia) Civil War
Abram Spadeholts (Spateholts) 1841-1880 **Co. C 7th NY Heavy Art Civil War
Laurence VanDyke 1895-1922 *Batt B 3rd Field Art World War I
Nelson VanDyke 1901-1922 *Co. E 59th Infantry World War I
Warren Hallock 1893-1965 *Pvt. Co. E 105 Inf. World War I
Frank (John Francis) Collins 1838-1929 ***Co. D 13th Missouri Cav. Civil War

Here is poem written by one of the veterans buried in Keyserkill, telling of his Civil War experience:

“My Experience With the Fatal Number Thirteen”
by John Haskin, 7th N. Y Heavy Artillery Co. F , Middleburgh, R.D.1

I was born in old Schoharie in 1834
In a little old log cabin with latch strings out the door,
In the good old town of Broome, so loyal and so true,
To our glorious starry banner and the boys who wore the blue.

I there grew up to boyhood, on those rough and rugged hills,
Where I learned the art of farming and those rugged hills to till.
Until the age of sixteen, I thought t’would do no harm,
To hire out as month-hand to work upon a farm.

I kept on in that vocation, until August 62,
Then changed my occupation, put on a suit of “blue”
To march ‘way down in Dixie, because I thought it right,
To protect our home and country, although we had to fight.

I was one of thirteen children, the fourth one of the lot
On the thirteenth day of August in the morning at six o’clock,
There were thirteen of our neighbor boys, started off with cheers,
At night we all were members of the 113th Volunteers.

For near three years we tramped it through Virginia’s mud and sand
Sometimes we were down-hearted, sometimes a happy band;
When the cruel war was over, all but two came marching home,
To resume the occupation, that we left while we were gone.

On the thirteenth of December, I took to me a wife,
Who was thirteen years my junior, born the thirteenth of July;
Though this fatal number, thirteen, comes so ‘oft in my career,
I am still quite hale and hearty, in my eighty-second year.