Goshen Cemetery

Duane's take

Here's how the official marker tells it, and I'll do my best to do it justice. Now, there's a name that carries some weight out here in Henderson County — Goshen. Named for the Biblical land of milk and honey.

That's a lot to live up to, and for a good stretch of the 19th century, Goshen gave it a real honest try. The community got its start after the Civil War, growing into a genuine marketing center for the rural farms and communities spread across this part of Texas. And if you were a trail driver pushing cattle up the Chisholm Trail out of East Texas, Goshen was where you stopped, rested your boots, and maybe caught your breath.

A town that fed you, supplied you, and sent you on your way. But here's the thing about progress — it doesn't always stop where you want it to. The railroad came through this area, and railroads don't negotiate with towns.

They just draw their lines. The merchants of Goshen read that situation clearly, packed up their businesses, and moved down the road to a settlement called Eustace, sitting right there on the new rail line. And just like that, Goshen faded.

The latter part of the 19th century closed the book on a once-thriving trading center. All that's left now is the cemetery. And even that has a story worth slowing down for.

Local legend holds that the cemetery began with a stranger. A nomadic cowboy, working on a nearby ranch, took sick. And he died there.

No hometown to send him back to, or none that could be reached in time. So they buried him where the ground was willing. A large grave and a stone fence mark that spot to this day — a monument to a man whose name the legend doesn't give us, but whose presence started something that outlasted the whole town around it.

The first burial the records can actually put a name and date to is Benjamin G. Hooker, laid to rest in 1869. From that point forward, Goshen Cemetery became the quiet keeper of this community's memory.

More than 450 marked graves now rest here — infants and children, pioneer settlers and their descendants, and veterans who served in America's various wars. And beyond those 450, many more graves that carry no marker at all. The Goshen Cemetery Association manages the grounds today, and it continues to serve the area — long after the merchants left, long after the trail drivers moved on, long after the town itself disappeared into the grass.

Goshen couldn't hold onto its stores or its street life. But it held onto its dead. And out here on the Texas road, that turns out to be the most permanent thing of all.

What the marker says

The community of Goshen was established after the Civil War. Named for the Biblical "land of milk and honey," the town of Goshen served the rural farms and communities as a marketing center. It was also a rest stop for trail drivers herding cattle on the Chisholm Trail from East Texas. Goshen existed through the latter part of the 19th century when the railroad was built through this area. Merchants moved their businesses to nearby Eustace, a settlement on the new rail line. Goshen Cemetery remains as the last physical reminder of the once-thriving trading center. According to local legend, the cemetery was founded when a nomadic cowboy became sick and died while working on a nearby ranch. A large grave and stone fence mark the burial place of the cowboy. Although many graves are unmarked, the first documented burial is that of Benjamin G. Hooker in 1869. Among the more than 450 marked graves are burials for several infants and children, pioneer settlers and their descendants, and veterans of America's various wars. The cemetery is managed by the Goshen Cemetery Association and continues to serve the area. (1996)