A Resident of My Living Village: 

Jonathan Martin Dunlap

On a beautiful, late Sunday afternoon in October 2005, I made one of my greatest genealogy breakthroughs. And, it was a living person. We had been wandering around Stanly and Anson counties, visiting random sites mentioned by my mother, and other sites I had read about in brief research. Ten years is a huge time in genealogy records evolution. Very little was digitized or transcribed and posted online compared to today. I was scouting cemeteries related to the Dunlap family and had some vague directions, from a Genforum posting, to travel the main highway, south of Norwood, NC, and turn along various county roads. This was mostly farm land with some fencing but few structures.

I was so excited when we came around a long, low curve and spotted the gracious old church and the cemetery just beyond. It was getting towards dusk but I was determined to get as much “headstone history” as I could. This was the last day allotted for my trip so I felt pressured to make the most of it. Armed with my new digital camera, I jumped out and began searching for familiar names and snapping pictures before the light faded. This was a lovely well-tended cemetery and the temperature was mild. My husband was guiding my efforts by noting names he had heard me mention and directing me around.

Vaguely, I noticed a well-dressed man emerge from the church, walk around the church grounds, and then toward the cemetery. Realizing we were the strangers here, we walked toward this suited man, meeting in the middle of the cemetery. In a soft Southern voice, he politely asked if he could help us, and one of my greatest finds unfolded from there. This was Jonathan Dunlap and this was his church; his family was buried here.

Jonathan Dunlap

After identifying ourselves, and breaking out my Dunlap binder from the back seat of our car to support our credibility, Jonathan told me quickly how we were related, fifth cousins. He had been preserving family history for many years and had amazing recall for details of many generations. We found out later he was just twenty-nine years old.

Hannah Pines and George Dunlap headstones in old cemetery

Jonathan was one of the fewer than thirty active members of Concord Methodist Church and also their organist. He told us he liked to come back to the church on Sunday evenings to be sure everything was in order and he frequently walked the cemetery to assure the graves were maintained. He did a lot of the work himself. Knowing time was short, he quickly guided me to the grave sites he knew would be of most interest to me, telling stories as we walked. I felt very lucky.

Jonathan in new section of cemetery

A gorgeous harvest moon was rising and there was beginning to be a soft evening light over clear, quiet fields across the road. Jonathan told us he lived nearby in a home on the Dunlap property, gesturing towards the south. A portion of the original Dunlap lands had remained in the family since the early 1800s. He recited in detail the various land sales that had occurred over many generations.

1918 George B. Dunlap family reunion

Key to above photo

Then he asked would we like to come back to his place and see some of the heirlooms and papers that he had? What an amazing offer to strangers! We hesitated slightly, a little nervous, but our curiosity won out. Jonathan climbed into his truck and we followed him along county back roads for several minutes and pulled up in front of a moderate, fifties-style ranch on a heavily wooded lot. Jonathan asked us to wait while he turned on some light and then led us into his charming home. He had inherited it from a great uncle for whom he had cared in the uncle's later years. It was quite dark with no exterior lights. We could see shadows of outbuildings and fenced areas. As we followed him up the front walk, we whispered to each other something along the lines of “What have we gotten into?”

We were welcomed into a warm and inviting home, not exactly what I would have expected of some one so young. At first it felt a bit like a living museum. The furniture was clean but clearly that of the elder relative. The magazines on the end tables were twenty years old. Soon, we realized that Jonathan had incorporated his love of history and family into his daily life. He was planning to build a new home on some land nearby and so was gathering those pieces that might fit in with new construction but retain their history. He told us he just couldn't throw anything away.

Over the next hour, he showed us through the house indicating baskets, chests, chairs and cabinets owned, and sometimes made, by a Dunlap. There was a closet with neatly preserved clothes worn over a hundred years before and many framed photographs and portraits. He shared documents, albums and stories. I shared what little I had brought with me. We found a common appreciation of tintypes and a desire to learn more about Hannah Pines Dunlap.

Jonathan's mother, Phyllis, even dropped by after she had called and heard we were there. She was a nurse and on her way home. She instantly reminded me of my sister, Linda, in looks and manner. She encouraged us to stay and visit, joking about her son's “obsession” but clearly proud of him.

Not wanting to overstay a clearly unanticipated visit, we made sounds of leaving. Jonathan suggested that we follow him back to the church so we wouldn't get lost on the unmarked roads. Leaving the house, we stopped at the barnyard to meet his mule, Jack, and listened to him bray in the still night. All of this was a little surreal. But what came next was magical.

We got to the church and Jonathan pulled out a ponderous set of keys. He explained he was pretty much the main caretaker and asked if we would like to see the inside of the church, especially because our joint ancestor, George Dunlap, had helped build and furnish it. Who would refuse! Jonathan moved his truck so that the headlights would show us a path. Even with a full moon, it was incredibly dark and a little eerie. He opened the large entry door (yes, it creaked) and turned on interior lights. The old fixtures cast a soft yellow-orange glow over white walls and well-worn pews in a simple but elegant country church. He then asked us if we would like to hear some music. Without preamble, Jonathan sat down at the piano and, from memory, began to play classic old hymns, some with complicated arrangements. We quickly discovered a polished musician. As the huge sound of the piano filled this church of my ancestors, I knew that this was an amazing gift. I was filled with the melodies and the mental images of people and their services held in this sacred place. It was a moment in time I would never forget. This remarkable young man was an inspiration.

The unbelievable chance meeting in a churchyard led to a connection that has continued strong, if infrequent, over the last ten years. Jonathan built his new house incorporating the mantle of his 3^rd Great Grandfather, Joseph Fletcher Dunlap. He remains active with the Concord church.