I am an avid genealogist. The past is very important to me. I spend a lot of time in cemeteries photographing tombstones to upload on the website FindAGrave.
I enjoy recognizing long dead people by putting memorials to them online. However, every once and a while something grabs me about a specific grave. It could be the name, or the dates or a ceramic photo. In those cases, I feel compelled to dig a little deeper. That's what this series of blogs is about: The tales behind those graves. Some of my subjects will be heroes. Some will be villains. Some will be victims. And some will linger in between, like most of us. However, don't be surprised if the tales are inherently tragic. These are grave tales. They all end in death.
The tombstone of Emanuel and Ruby Snell caught my attention on one of my first drives through
. I have Snell cousins and graves with family names invariably attract my attention. Not that I suspected that we were related. My Snell cousins were German/Scottish. The inhabitants of Mount Auburn are almost entirely African-American.
But it was more than the name that struck me. It was dates. Emmanuel was born in 1883. Ruby was born in 1905. Were they husband and wife? Or perhaps father and daughter? More curiously, they both died in 1933. Was it the same day? If so, how? A car accident? A house fire? I had to know, so I looked them up in the Baltimore Afro American. I was shocked by what I saw.
Story from the Afro American, Sept 2, 1933:
HE WAS LICKED BEFORE HE STARTED
Ruby Snell is dead. Back of her untimely and tragic demise is a story of interest to those who will but pause and consider. Twenty-eight-year-old Ruby was born in Georgia, the daughter of a family of sixteen children. When she was fourteen years old she listened to the proposal of marriage of Emanuel Snell, who was at that time 54, or 40 years her senior.
The little community arched its eyebrow and in whispered conversations shook its head doubtfully. "There can't no good come from such a union." Many believed while others felt that Ruby was doing right well by herself by marrying a man of maturity who had accumulated a little something.
The bridegroom, a widower, had a son older than his wife but that made little difference.
The years drifted by slowly and without mishap and soon friends of the couple began to doubt their own convictions. Here at last was a May-December union working contrary to the rules. Ruby settled down to be a dutiful wife and grew smug and buxom. Her husband, growing older, kept the even tenor of his already well set habits. Fourteen years had rolled by and they were still happy together to all intents and purposes.
But several months ago those who labored with the man began to notice that he was subject to moods. He would be overly loquacious and as suddenly he would sink into fits of melancholy.
This should have been a warning to any close observer that there was something wrong going on in the mind of Emanuel Snell, but it was merely dismissed as the cussedness of old age; and nobody thought that he was brooding over the fact that his young wife was not growing old as fast as he was.
Monday morning neighbors who forced their way into the Snell home, found that Ruby had been shot to death and her elderly had sent a bullet into his own brain.
This was Emanuel Snell's last feeble attempt to overcome the handicap of time.
Friends back home who shook their heads as the pair made their way to the altar can say, "I told you so."
Youth and old age are enemies and they get no better opportunity to engage in mortal combat than when two individuals are foolish enough to enter into matrimony. Marriage is the one institution that is a hazardous journey when all things are equal, but when one of the parties thereto is looking back on years that have gone and other is looking forward for happiness in days yet unborn, nothing but tragedy will result.
Rumors are rife that into Ruby Snell's life had come a younger man. Ruby cannot be blamed for this.
Youth like water, seeks its own level. Little sympathy of the world will go to unfortunate Emanuel Snell because he was licked before he started. With Father Time slowing up his pace, the elderly man feared his young wife might out trip him.
The new race through eternity they start off on a more even basis and regardless of what happens, that is one journey that Snell's bullets cannot end.
It is interesting how the writer for the Afro American presented the story more terms of a moral tale than a traditional news story. Perhaps because of racial attitudes of the time, the Baltimore Sun did not write any stories about the deaths of the Snells. That's a different kind of tragedy.