More of Day 3The cemetery in Northeast is more inviting than it used to be. The trees are growing and someone seems to be tending the graves. Grandma Hewitt wanted to be buried on the hill where she could see her grapes and play cards with her sisters, Neal and Olie, while overlooking the lake. As fate would have it, there are trees now obscuring the view of Lake Erie, but I'm sure she has a pretty good view of the lake anyway!
Aunt Connie and Uncle Bill are buried in Laurel Hill Cemetery on Sterretania Road. By the time we got back to Erie, it was raining - enough to drench me because I wouldn't leave until all the weeds were pulled from the little flower garden around the headstone. I guess either Amy or Jim planted the flowers, but they had become pretty overgrown, so I made it my business to clean up the flower patch. Needless to say, we had to go back to the motel so I could change into dry clothes. Dry and rested, we headed out Lake Pleasant Road to Arbuckle. This is the lake the road was named after. :)
We found Arbuckle, but there wasn't much there to see. (If you get to Wattsburg Road, you've gone too far. That's the way Dad really knew where we were.) Dad remembered the cabin on French Creek he used to go to when he was a kid. The road the cabin was on is now someone's driveway. No cabin anymore.

Arbuckle itself used to be several houses and a feed store. The feed store is now a carpet outlet. Go figure - miles from nowhere, a community of about 10 houses (at the very most) and a carpet outlet.

We drove up the hill on the dirt road looking for Dad's grandma's house, but never found what he was looking for. He remembers it sitting up a sloping hill and we found what looked like the yard, but with a much newer house on it. Although it was a picturesque farm community, it hardly seemed to warrant its own sign. :)

From there we headed back to Erie through Waterford. We went through there in a line of traffic - too fast for me to get any pictures. We passed Crystelle's (sp?) house and the little park we used to play in while Dad and Ma visited with Crystelle. We also passed the store that used to say HEWITT on it in huge letters, but by now it has probably been painted over a half-dozen times. We went down the road where Grandpa Hewitt grew up, but Dad didn't really know what to look for, so we turned around and headed back out Perry Highway toward the motel.