"Annie & Johnny Beeton's Graves, Oak Grove Cemetery, Lexington, VA" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks.
Eleven years ago yesterday, my mother Mary Jenks died. I could write a lot about her. Frankly I already have written a lot about Mom. Click on this link to my Amazon pages and you can buy/read two books about Mom. Dementia Blues and Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair) All I'll say tonight is I miss her. Yes she was a force of nature and she tended to push people away with her narcissistic neediness, but she's wasn't all bad. Actually, I'd say she was at least 1/2 good. Not a ringing endorsement I know, but Mary was a glass half full or half empty, depending on how you looked at her. You might be able to say the same for me too. For all of us perhaps. Anywho, love you Mom. May your spirit roam free.
"Mary as a newlywed, Rocky Mount, North Carolina (c) Late 1940's. Photograph taken by my father, Stu Jenks.
Our main story tonight is this. Again, I've already written about this before too, but he's a summery.
Johnny and Annie Beeton were my great-great-grandparents. Their third child Ella, born in 1863, was my great grandmother who married a Jenks, and off we went. But Johnny and Annie, it appears, and I've made some assumptions from viewing the partial record, were not like most Southerners of their time. Or may be they were.
Johnny worked at the Virginia Military Institute in Lexington, Virginia before The Civil War. He and Annie already had two kids. It appears Annie and Johnny were happy. Then war broke out. Then the renowned and quite-crazy teacher at VMI, Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson, drafted the entire student body of VMI and most of the able bodied men in Lexington, into his new regiment. Johnny knew, much like many at VMI knew, that Stonewall was at best, a reckless crazy man and at worse, an egomaniacal bully. Johnny quickly got transferred out of Stonewall's Brigade and spend The Civil War, making munitions in Richmond. It appears he was quite good at making guns and bullets. After the War, he returned to Lexington, and worked at Washington and Lee College, just down the street from VMI. He and Annie had 11 children in all. Yep, 11, 10 who lived into adulthood. Sadly, Annie died in 1883 at the young age of 45. Given the large grave marker Johnny build for her, and other information I have gleaned, it appears Johnny loved Annie very much, and I think Annie loved him too. Johnny never remarried. Ella Beeton married into the Jenks clan and that history is ripe with controversy and hurtfulness, but prior to that, it appears the Beetons were a large happy family.
Now, in the art world, particularly back in the 1970's and 80's, there was this thing call Conceptual Art, art that was more about the idea than about the object; art that couldn't be bought and sold that easily; art that was only remembered if you filmed and photographed it or experienced it live, in the moment. Conceptual Art is the mother of what we now call Performance Art.
Back in art school, I did a bunch of Conceptual Art: burying myself in fire brick at the center of campus; leashing myself to the front porch of 608 Airport Road for 12 hours, not speaking for that time and hoping roommates brought me food and drink; building a brick sculpture from 1152 fire bricks, one a day, everyday, for thirty days, taken one down and then building another; and most famously, painting Fatal Figures on the streets of Chapel Hill where all the fatal traffic accidents had occurred from 1970 to 1978. Yep, I did all that, and I have the slides to prove.
I made my current artistic career mostly as a nocturnal photographer, selling image rights and prints, making a little coin from my music, and producing a number of books. Conceptual Art was not made by me for decades.
Until last week.
During my travels since I moved back to North Carolina, I've visited many cemeteries. Some, during certain times of the year, are decorated with Confederate Flags, mostly the awful battle flag "The Stars and Bars", but of late with the National Confederate Flag, with its circle of stars on a blue field, and with its bands of white and red. They are trying to be politically correct. Good for them, but they fail. Sorry, the Confederates were traitors to the Union, not matter how much you might admire Robert E. Lee and the aforementioned Stonewall Jackson. It was a war to free the slaves and I'm glad as fuck, that the South lost.
And I believe my great great grandparents, Annie and Johnny Beeton, thought The War Between The States was a stupid and ridiculous idea as well. At the very least, foolhardy. Why else would Johnny transfer away for General Jackson? He knew how crazy he was. He worked around him. But he also felt pressure that he had to serve, whether he wanted to or not. The southern Home Guard, a group of disreputable men who made southern men enlist during the War, made sure that Johnny had to go. Luckily, he found a safe place to serve, in a gun factory in Richmond, Virginia.
And lets face it. Had he stayed to fight along side Stonewall Jackson, he would have probably been killed or died in the first year. He wouldn't have been able to come home and visit Annie during the Fall of 1862 to conceive my great grandmother Ella. And I won't be here.
Repeat. I won't be here.
So last week, I took a National Confederate Flag I had stolen from a cemetery somewhere (guilty as charged), and wrote on it with a black pen 'He Fought Reluctantly'. Then I drove the two hours north to Johnny Beeton's grave and placed in the the ground.
Hardly anyone was there on that day. I took my pics. I also visited my great great grandparents on the Jenks side and my great great great grandparents on the Beeton side. I also looked at the large grave market for Stonewall Jackson and thought, "What an asshole." I always think that. Jackson was a crazy man who got thousands killed, fighting for the right for white men to own black people. Almost every time I visit Annie and Johnny, strangers pass by to pay their respects to Stonewall. They are almost always loud. They almost always don't notice I'm 30 feet way, staring at the gravestone of Annie and Johnny. On a good day, I just shake my head at their rudeness. On a bad day, I whisper "Would you all shut the fuck up?", hoping the negative vibe carries to their souls. Never does.
Anyway, Johnny and Annie, I made a piece of Conceptual Art for you all. If you were alive today with your 19th century perspectives, you might think me a little mad, a little crazy. Can't really argue with you there.
Love, light and luck,
Stu