Little James Nathaniel Barlow

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Wednesday August 31, 1853, Israel Barlow stood in a small cemetery in the village of Nauvoo, Illinois. In his heart he carried the request of his grieving wife that he find the grave of their firstborn son James Nathaniel who had lived but one day and died on May 8, 1841. Israel, a seventy, was on his way to England to preach the Gospel. As he had departed his family in Salt Lake his wife asked him to stop and see their son’s grave. Rumors had reached them that a road was being built over that Mormon cemetery, and would he move the body of their son to the cemetery east of town? Israel agreed to do so.

Now as he stood in the cemetery he was unable to determine where the grave was located. Weeds and neglect had taken over the sacred place. Israel searched and could not find it. The next day he enlisted the help of another man and together they found the grave of little James and his cousin side by side. The coffins were very much decayed and Israel decided that he would not move them. He turned and began to walk away, but then he stopped and looked back. Looking at the little coffin something said to him “Move it. Move it!” But Israel was running short of time. He had to catch a boat and continue his journey and this looked like a lot of work. He turned away again thinking to himself. “The earth as well as the sea would have to give up its dead and…that they might as well be in one place as in another. I therefore turned away,” he said, “and concluded that I would leave them there.”

Israel had gone only a few feet when another voice came into his mind so clear and distinct that he could not argue with it, “Daddy, do not leave me here.”

Israel turned back and with a greater peace than he had yet known he removed the body of his infant son to the old cemetery east of Nauvoo, conscious that he had done his duty by the Lord and his son. He carved a stone to mark the final resting place of James Nathaniel Barlow, and as he was about to leave something held him. “The time of my departure had come” he said, “Could I go away? No! There was something that caused my feelings to linger there and bound me fast. . . . I felt a desire to dedicate myself and all that I might call mine own into the hands of the Lord that I might be counted worthy to come forth with [my son] in the morning of the First Resurrection. The thoughts of absenting myself far away never more in life to return to his grave wrung the last thread of affection I bore till it was broken with tears on his grave.” Israel Barlow went on into history firm in the hope of coming day when that grave would be opened one final time.

It was Joseph Fielding Smith who said, “It remains the responsibility of each individual to know his kindred dead….even if the [Temple] work is done then it is still each person’s responsibility to study and become acquainted with his ancestors” (Ensign July 2009, p. 35).

Sources: Ora H. Barlow, The Israel Barlow Story and Mormon Mores, (1968), 306-08

https://familysearch.org/photos/documents/5887790

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