Octavy Jackson (feat. Gypsy Twang)

04:30
Sarah Barker
2014
Sarah Barker

Story

This song was inspired by my friend Adam Miller.  He told me of a grave marker in the little cemetery in his hometown of Wagoner, OK.  He said it was very primitive and sat right by the side of the road in the older part of the cemetery.  All it said was, “Octavy Jackson. 1909. Dide.”  I began to wonder who Octavy was, and tried in vain to find anything out about her.  Was she a woman, a little girl, or a baby?  And who marked her grave?  Was it her father, her husband, or maybe her sweetheart?  There’s no way of knowing, but it was obviously someone who loved her very much.  I thought that was so sad.  So I wrote her this song.

Lyrics

Octavy Jackson died in 1909

No one knows her story

There’s no record left to find

But in Wagoner, Oklahoma

There’s a tombstone with her name

The year she died and not much more

Now isn’t that a shame?

Ah but someone cared enough about Octavy

To lay her gently down and mark her grave

Did he bring her flowers every day

‘Till he crossed over too?

Did he cry a thousand tears and walk away?

Octavy Jackson must’ve been somebody’s baby

Somebody’s darlin’, somebody’s kin

Her story’s buried with her

So I guess we’ll never know

But she had someone in Wagoner

Who was sad to see her go

Oh and someone cared enough about Octavy

To lay her gently down and mark her grave

Did he bring her flowers every day

‘Till he crossed over too?

Did he cry a thousand tears and walk away?

Octavy Jackson wasn’t buried in a plot

No one lies beside her

In the grave that time forgot

If you’ll look a little closer

At the handmade monument

You’ll see a heart beneath the letters

For the love it represents

Oh and someone cared enough about Octavy

To lay her gently down and mark her grave

Did he bring her flowers every day

‘Till he crossed over too?

Did he cry a thousand tears and walk away?

Octavy Jackson died in 1909

No one knows her story

There’s no record left to find

But in Wagoner, Oklahoma

There’s a tombstone with her name

The year she died and not much more

Now isn’t that a shame?

The year she died and not much more

Now isn’t that a shame?