Today, Tuesday, 15 March, I finally had an opportunity to get over to Flagler Memorial Park and see the resting places of Father Danilovich and Father Oleksiw. Since there is no Divine Liturgy on the weekdays of Great Lent, and Typika (the service that takes its place) only takes about fifteen minutes, I was able to start making my way over there at about half after noon. I went to the office and spoke to the receptionist, and she immediately directed me to the office of a memorial counselour by the name of Mr. Alfredo Stolk. Mr. Stolk began searching the computerized records of the cemetery for the names of our former pastors, and immediately found Father Danilovich. However, he was not able to find Father Oleksiw. Every which way he tried, the computer search proved fruitless. He asked me, "they would be buried close to one another?" I replied, "I doubt it-- they died more than twenty years apart" (Father Danilovich in 1952 and Father Oleksiw in 1976). Finally, he Mr. Stolk said, "Well, I will go to the card record and search for him." He left the office for a few minutes, and returned with an old green card, which had been imprinted by a typewriter (by someone who was not very skilled with a typewriter since there were many strikeovers). Mr. Stolk proclaimed triumphantly, "I found him. They had filed him under R., because of the Rev. before his name." Mr. Stolk then got out the various maps of the cemetery and began to show me the locations of the graves that I was seeking. Father Danilovich was in a very old part of the cemetery called St. Joseph's Garden, while Father Oleksiw was further away from Flagler in an area with only the very unattractive name of "Section 10." Mr. Stolk began to describe the way that I would have to drive my car to the various gravesites, and where I could leave the car, but I explained that I was on foot. "It's a long walk!" he said with surprise. I replied that this was the only exercise that I was likely to get today, and that I was grateful for it, but, in the end, he insisted on putting me in a golf cart and taking up as far a St. Joseph's Garden himself.
One of the things that I love about being an amateur historian (both for my parish and my family) is that it always involves the adventure of learning the unexpected. My arrival in St. Joseph's Garden was no exception to this general rule, as I immediately learned something about the founding pastor I didn't know before. Perhaps many in our parish community knew and remembered, but it was a complete surprise to me to learn that he was married. His yimost', Irene, lies next to him under a common stone. As the stone bears witness, she didn't pass away until 24 April 1960, and Father Milanych buried her on 27 April. I consulted the record (just in case she was an unmarried sister-- instead of a wife), but, as I expected, her status was listed as "widow." Naturally, this knowledge raises all kinds of intriguing questions. For example, between his passing in 1952, and her death in 1960, she would have witnessed the building of the church and the hall. What was her role in these formative years? What was her relationship like with the subsequent pastors. Is she one of the ladies, who appear in the pictures of the parish's first canonical visitation in November 1954, when Bishop Amvrosij Senyshyn came and celebrated Liturgy outside in the area in front of the residence? Did she have a hand, or input, in the founding of the choir in 1959? It is frustrating to think that the answers to some of these questions we will never know (that is, until the Heavenly Kingdom).
After a few moments of prayer in St. Joseph's Garden, it was time to head across the road, and further into the cemetery, into the vast, wide open plains of "Section 10." Using a crumbling red brick retaining wall as a guide and landmark, I found Father Oleksiw's grave in the shade of a tree. The inscription on the bronze monument reads "Rev. Peter Oleksiw-- born in Ukraine." Reading that inscription, it was impossible not to think of "Zapovit'." Perhaps that was the intention.
