Yesterday, I received the 2026 Heritage Preservation Award from the Dallas Genealogical Society for a project that has shaped nearly a decade of my life: the effort to rescue the Dallas City (Pauper) Cemetery from ruin. The cemetery is a slow-motion disaster film as the elements drift away through time and neglect.
I have no relatives buried there. No family ties. No inherited obligation. What I had was a moment in 2017 when I first walked onto that forgotten ground and something inside me said, “Someone has to do something about this.” And with no one else standing there, I understood that the someone was me.
Since then, this project has been tested in every way imaginable. The early estimates were simple. Just $20 per marker! We were close to raising what we needed when COVID slammed the brakes on everything. By the time the world reopened, shipping costs had quadrupled. Granite prices were rising monthly and then weekly. My original marker design had to be re‑engineered so they wouldn’t sink like the ones before them.
Then came the bureaucratic gauntlet: registering as a vendor with the city, filing paperwork, chasing grants, navigating drainage issues that stalled progress again and again, and watching tariffs and material costs climb faster than donations could keep up.
But I refused to let the cemetery wait any longer. We were losing purchasing power by the week. If I waited one more day, the tariff was set to rise 100% to 128% in all.
On September 30th, 2025, I pushed all my chips onto the table. I emptied our coffers and ordered as many markers as we could afford — not because it was safe, but because it was necessary. Calvary Hill Funeral Home met me halfway with an at‑cost bid, and I laid the rest of my faith on the line. This is my Field of Dreams. I believe that if you build it, they will come.
We need 2,097 markers. I have no idea where the funds for the remaining 1,097 will come from. But I know this: I am winning, and I will win. And if I don’t, it won’t be because I stopped trying. It will be because my clock ran out while I was still giving everything I had.
My personal motto has always been to be the change I wish to see in the world. I adopted that long before I knew it was attributed to Gandhi. In my mind, I learned it from Michael Jackson — I’m starting with the man in the mirror.
This project has never been about me. It has always been about dignity, memory, and the belief that forgotten people deserve to be remembered. That everyone deserves a place of rest.
But today, receiving this award, I’m reminded that sometimes one person really can make a difference — not because they are extraordinary, but because they refuse to walk away.
I want to thank the members of the Dallas Genealogical Society for recognizing the importance of this project. It means more than I am able to say.
From the very bottom of my heart, Thank You!