35th Annual Tales Tombstones Tell - Self Guided Tour
Welcome, history enthusiasts and curious minds! We're thrilled to invite you on a virtual journey through time with our self-guided tour of the 35th anniversary "Tales Tombstones Tell." This blog series will take you on a captivating exploration of local history, one gravestone at a time. Each post features the script and an accompanying video recording from a different stop on the cemetery walk, allowing you to experience the rich stories and forgotten tales etched in stone. Whether you're a longtime resident or a newcomer to our community, prepare to uncover the fascinating lives, triumphs, and tragedies of those who came before us. Let's embark on this historical adventure together, as we bring the past to life through the whispers of our Oakwood cemetery.
Frank Hook Whitton 1839-1913
Interpreter: Tom Tawney
Stop Eight
Good evening. My name is Frank Hook Whitton. I was born in Devonshire, England in 1839. I was one of six children born to my parents Henry and Nancy Whitton. I grew up in Devonshire on my family’s farm. I spent the warmer months of my childhood working the fields with my father and attending school during the winter months. I was a hardworking lad, and I learned the value of a strong work ethic early on. When I turned 19, I decided to set off on my own and make my own way in the world. I had no money, but I was determined to succeed and set sail for the United States. I arrived in Winfield Township in 1858, and I quickly found work as a farm hand. At that time much of this area was still farmland with just small communities peppered on the landscape. I worked hard as a farm hand and saved my money, and eventually, I was able to rent my own land. After a few years, I moved to Batavia, where I met and married the love of my life, Mary Ellen Lindley. Mary was the daughter of English immigrants, just like me, and we had a lot in common. We started a family and had four beautiful children, although sadly, our youngest son, George, died in infancy.
In 1866, we moved our family to Turner, and I opened up a meat market. One of the earliest photographs that the Museum has in it’s collection is a tintype of the Whitton Meat Market from the 1870s. It’s a tintype, the type of photography we had back then, and although the photo is not very clear, but you can make out the saw in my hand, one of the many valued tools of the local butcher.
When the first Village government of Turner was formed in 1873, I proudly served as a trustee and later a collector. This began a long period of public service for us Whittons. I served 15 terms on the Turner Village Board of Trustees and I had the rare distinction of being on the first board of trustees for the Village of Turner and then on the last when the Village of Turner changed its name to West Chicago in 1896. In those days we thought it would be a good idea to change our name from the more rural sounding Turner; we hoped we’d attract more business and people to town and it worked, although I think the name West Chicago still causes you all a little confusion. Under either name I was proud to serve this community, and I even served a term as the Village President. My 15 years in office was outdone however by my son, Frank Herbert Whitton. He served 24 terms as an alderman on the city council.
My business was a fixture in the West Chicago community for 76 years, and I was grateful that my son and grandson helped continue the family business here on Main Street. Our family house also still stands on E. Washington Street. It was the site of many happy memories, including the wedding of my daughter Eleanor May Whitton to Edward Merriamn in October of 1893. We were a close-knit family, and I was grateful for the life that I had built in America, a true dream for me as an immigrant. I passed away in 1913,and was laid to rest here in Oakwood Cemetery. I am proud to have been a part of the West Chicago community, help contribute to its local government and business community, and I am grateful for the opportunities that this country gave me. Thank you for coming to hear all of our stories this evening.