Kevin Gibson’s New Book, ‘Oldest Louisville,’ Gives Historical Tour Of City

In“Oldest Louisville,” local author Kevin Gibson writes about some of Louisville’s oldest existing institutions and the lives involved in them, along with a few unusual stories to help illustrate what life was like in Louisville long before the city we know today. The book covers the early days of the Kentucky Derby and the first-ever bottled bourbon. Readers will meet the family behind the city’s oldest operating funeral service, hear the stories behind Louisville’s oldest parks and cemeteries (and how sometimes they overlapped). You’ll get the muddled history of the Old Fashioned cocktail and discover the story of a thrilling duel in a cemetery.

Below is a preview of the book, which officially was released Oct. 15 by St. Louis-based Reedy Press. Copies can be purchased at local retailers such as Carmichael’s Bookstore or by visiting kevingibsonwriter.com.

 Oldest Municipal Cemetery

Western Cemetery

Est. 1830

While not the oldest cemetery, per se—there are no doubt plenty of family graveyards that go back farther—Western Cemetery is the oldest municipal cemetery in Louisville. Well, it’s the oldest that is still recognized as a cemetery—the city’s first cemetery is now a park. (And while Cave Hill Cemetery is the one most people point to as the city’s oldest, Western was the second cemetery the city created.) And while it has fallen into disrepair over the past nearly two centuries, the graves and a few headstones remain.

The cemetery has quite a history and, frankly, a troubled one. Located on West Jefferson Street between Fifteenth and Eighteenth Streets, Western has been referred to as the Lower Jefferson or Pioneer Cemetery, as many of Louisville’s earliest citizens are buried there, according to city records. It is relatively small at around 10 acres and contains approximately 5,000 plots. For nearly two decades, it was a central cemetery—and then, in the 1840s, the city purchased some farmland between what is today the Phoenix Hill and Highlands neighborhoods at the end of Broadway. That farmland would soon become Cave Hill Cemetery, a much larger and more central cemetery. 

Many of those who were interred in Western Cemetery were ultimately moved to Cave Hill, St. Louis Cemetery (which opened in 1863), or elsewhere. By around 1890, there were discussions of closing the cemetery and moving the remaining dead buried there, or turning it into yet another park—and there was an immediate backlash, in part because the city had already built a public park at the first municipal cemetery with the graves still there. But as Western was more and more neglected by the city, it fell into decrepitude and vandalism and even grave-robbing became more and more common (a child’s body was mysteriously stolen from its crypt in 1873, for example, and similar cases repeated). Tombstones were being moved, as in some cases when a new grave was dug, a coffin would be found where there was supposed to be none. Weeds and briars began to overtake the grounds. In other words, it was a municipal mess.

And yet it was beloved by the families of those who had been buried there. An anonymous letter to the editor published in The Courier-Journal on May 29, 1890, perhaps summed up the sentiments of family and friends of the deceased buried in Western Cemetery: “My first impression of the Western Cemetery is going there when a child to place flowers around my little brother’s [grave] and hearing my father say, ‘This lot is as much mine as much mine as any I own in Louisville.’”

Still, the debate persisted. For instance, in 1885 there was a plan proposed to build a walkway through the cemetery. Relatives of the dead buried there were against it, with petitions against the plan abounding. In 1891, there were reports of the city commissioners wanting to convert Western Cemetery into a “pleasure ground.” Many of those against the plan said they would first build brick walls around the plots rather than submit to their loved ones’ remains being removed by the city.

And into the early 1900s, there were beautification plans, but nothing managed to stick. One plan posed by the city involved moving the bodies to Cave Hill; again, it never transpired. The cemetery was never converted into a park, and as time went on, it slowly disappeared, at least on the surface, in spite of the fact it still holds the bodies of many of the city’s pioneers. One newspaper account from the late 1800s stated it was believed at the time that descendants of the first American settlers may rest there. But according to a 1931 letter to the Filson Historical Society (then known as the Filson Club) by Fay H. Marvin, director of the city’s department of welfare, as headstones were vandalized or damaged to the point they could not be deciphered, they were removed. Today, there are random stones, many of which aren’t legible, and some which are basically rubble. A small, raised square contains grave markers for a handful of military veterans buried there.

But in its day, it must have been a beautiful garden. A 1959 letter owned by Filson from a former Louiville resident named Maurice E. Woods to a resident of Douglass Boulevard spoke of a caretaker of Western Cemetery named Patrick Cody, who, “took care of that cemetery like a mother would care for a child.” The letter described the cemetery of the early 1900s, saying, “Some of the most beautiful roses were all through the place, and in spring, violets covered most of the graves.”

One of the more notable figures buried in Western Cemetery is Capt. James Patten, a Revolutionary soldier who is believed to be one of the first area settlers to plant corn on Corn Island, which was a forerunner to Louisville. He arrived with George Rogers Clark’s militia, which settled the island, and died in 1815. According to an account published in The Courier-Journal, Patten’s remains were originally buried on a private lot of a house located near Ninth Street, but that flooding caused Patten’s coffin to be exposed. To avoid this happening again, the body was moved to Western where it presumably remains. Another notable figure buried in Western Cemetery is a man named Isaac McCoy, the first Baptist missionary to American Indians and a graduate of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville. He served the territories that are now Indiana, Michigan, Missouri, and Kansas, was known as “The Indian Apostle.” He died in 1846.

In 1961, a monument to those pioneers and settlers was erected by the city at the cemetery. Five decades too late, perhaps, but as they say, better late than never. It is inscribed, “Erected to the memory of Pioneers and early Settlers interred here in Western Cemetery. The city’s second public burial ground … Capt. James Patten, one of the original founders, is buried here. Last burial was in 1894.” 

Oldest Tree

George Rogers Clark Park

Est. late 1700s

On August 29, 1785, John Clark purchased a 256-acre tract just outside of what was the Louisville boundary, near the south fork of Beargrass Creek. Clark, father of Revolutionary War general and Louisville founder George Rogers Clark, moved to the farm with his wife and four younger children, naming it “Mulberry Hill.” The family would expand the estate to more than 340 acres by 1908, according to records, in a tree-rich area known as Poplar Level. The family would build a two-story log cabin, a detached kitchen, a spring house, a grist mill, and quarters for enslaved people. Crops were grown on the plantation, and an orchard thrived there as well.

While the home and other structures the Clark family built there during their time there have long since been razed, two things remain: the family cemetery and a single bald cypress tree.

That tree is believed to be the oldest living tree in the entire Louisville Metro Parks and Recreation system, which covers more than 14,000 acres in its 120 different parks—including countless thousands of trees, from beech to oak to sycamore. This cypress, which has been noted as possibly the last truly historic tree left in the city, stood near the farm’s spring house. 

Metro Parks outreach officer Walter Munday wrote in an essay that a number of legends about the tree have been bandied about over the years, with one asserting the tree sprouted from where George Rogers Clark jabbed his walking stick or riding stick into the ground. Another more colorful legend claims that a Native American brave’s body is encased within the tree. Regardless, it is assumed the tree was planted by either George Rogers Clark himself or at least by the Clark family during their residence there. Mulberry Hill also was the home for several years of William Clark and his slave companion York—well known as leaders of the Lewis and Clark Expedition westward from 1803 to 1806, offering even more historical context to the tree. 

A mystery of sorts lies with the fact that bald cypress are not native to Kentucky, or at least they weren’t known to be at that time. This lends credence to a theory that the family brought the tree as a sapling or seeds with them to their property from Virginia, where the trees were plentiful. We’ll never know for sure, but as theories go, it could hold some water.

And it’s no surprise the tree is still going strong. Why? Because the bald cypress (or Taxodium distichum) are known for slow growth and long lives. They can routinely live to be 600 years or older, and some individual trees can live for as many as 1,000 years. Which means, in terms of age, that tree is still essentially a young adult in human terms. Bald cypresses also are known as bearing rot-resistant wood, making them ideal for making furniture, boats, caskets, and the like, which might explain why the Clarks might have considered bringing a sapling or cypress cones with them for planting.

Today, the Clark family’s bald cypress is protected by a wrought-iron fence and is marked by a plaque that explains its historical significance. 

By around 1900, the family home had deteriorated to the point of collapse, and the remains of the Clark family’s estate, Mulberry Hill, were destroyed. The land ended up being distributed in parcels among the family; some of Mulberry Hill would become part of a World War I military compound called Camp Zachary Taylor. Today, of course, it is a public park and the tree and what remains of the family cemetery, including the graves of George Rogers Clark’s siblings Ann and John (several other family members were moved to Cave Hill Cemetery), is open to the public for visits and is in the Audobon neighborhood, just off Poplar Level Road.

Oldest Bowling Alley

Vernon Lanes

Est. 1902

A bowling alley has an ambiance all its own—and one doesn’t even have to bowl to enjoy it. For those of us who grew up as bowling alley rats—my parents bowled every Friday night during most of my youth, or so my memories tell me—the sound of bowling balls hitting pins and falling fills the senses. Add to that the sound of voices that fill a bowling alley, from happy chatter to groans of near-misses and exuberant exclamations in celebration of a strike, it all comes together as a pleasingly nostalgic din. Throw in the smells of bowling alley food, and you’ve got a virtual heaven on Earth. Vernon Lanes has all of it. As the city’s oldest bowling alley—and one of the oldest in the nation—it also has a pretty interesting history.

Constructed in 1886, the building that is now home to Vernon Lanes originally was a gentleman’s club known as the Delmont Club, visited primarily by German immigrants. The club had officers, took riverboat excursions, had concerts, hosted fish frys, and more. In other words, it was always home to a good time. A notice in The Courier-Journal, dated February 3, 1902, announced the grand opening celebration of the bowling lanes, which cost $7,500 to construct, according to an account the day after the opening, which designated the new alleys as “among the best in the city.” Attended by roughly 1,000 people, the notice read, “There are four alleys and they will be properly christened tonight by games between the bowling teams known as the Rough Riders, Wonders, Manhattans and Haager’s Independents.”

The building was purchased in 1918 by St. Joseph’s Catholic Church and converted to a community and recreation center designed to be a civic center and to facilitate outreach efforts of the nearby church. It opened to the public in 1946 with a festive ceremony that was attended by Louisville Mayor Leland Taylor as a recreation hall for all. However, that men’s club aura remained for some time, apparently.

“It was more or less a community center for men,” Vernon manager Bill Byron said in 1980 when asked about the bowling alley’s history, “to get away from their wives.”

Four more bowling lanes were added, and at one point, there was a gymnasium on the second floor. And continued to serve the neighborhood for an incredible 60 years, with locals making memories and learning to love that distinctive bowling alley rumble. In local vernacular, it became known simply as “The Vernon.”

In 2006, it was purchased by a group led by Dale McCall, who wanted to revive the old bowling alley partly due to his own childhood nostalgia, and after attending a birthday party there with his daughter. Bowling the classic lanes hooked him, and when the building went up for sale, he decided to make the purchase. He would add a live music venue in the basement that came to be known as the Vernon Club —and often, when downstairs enjoying live music and a drink, one could hear the clatter of pins overhead. 

Local writer Jeffrey Lee Puckett of The Courier-Journal once wrote, “Vernon Lanes is one of the coolest places in Louisville, mostly because it doesn’t try to be cool.” Truly, the place packed people in for close to a decade. But while it was a popular venue, it ran out of steam and the combination bowling alley and venue closed in late 2015. It sat unused for seven years before being purchased by a local group that also had ties to another local bar and restaurant. The new owners gave the classic bowling alley a total overhaul.

Today, the eight-lane bowling alley—a simple, two-story brick design that would look more like a house than a bowling alley without the signage—is thriving as an eatery and a recreational respite. The downstairs area has been updated with a full kitchen as well as a new stage and sound system, plus seating. The vintage benches and lockers remain in place with the bowling lanes, as do the wood floors, and a bar was added that will seat close to 30 people and accommodate others in an adjoining room facing Story Avenue. Bowling balls and shoes sit on racks and on benches waiting to be used for leisurely recreation, and the simple words “Vernon Lanes” flicker in neon above the pins. The mechanics powering the bowling lanes date to the late 1960s—in short, it’s a trip back in time. •

Kevin Gibson will discuss his latest book at Carmichael’s Bookstore (2720 Frankfort Ave.) on Saturday, Nov. 18 at 4:00 p.m. 

This article appears in October 24, 2023.