Our region’s resting grounds include grave markers that tell remarkable stories about people whose lives impacted our area. Some were famous. Others were simply ordinary people who led extraordinary lives. This is the third in a series.

Aquila Henning

It was a local, 1930s feud not unlike the Hatfields and the McCoys.

Schoolteacher Harry Wilkinson of Meckesville had neighbor Aquila Henning’s son, Aquila Jr., arrested for illegal hunting.

Ill will ensued.

On Thanksgiving Day 1932, the Hennings and the Wilkinsons were hunting. Or maybe not.

Maybe the Wilkinsons set up an ambush, knowing the Hennings would be hunting. The Wilkinson crew included Harry, who was a one-armed man with a pistol, his brother, Robert, and seven friends.

Aquila Henning was hunting with his son, Aquila Jr.

Aquila supposedly shot and wounded a dog owned by the Wilkinson party. Aquila then allegedly tried to shoot Harry as he checked on his pet. But the shot missed.

Meanwhile, Harry’s brother Robert said he saw what happened, noticed Aquila was reloading, and quickly Robert shot Aquila in the back.

Aquila died a few hours later at Palmerton Hospital.

But on his deathbed, Aquila said that he never shot and wounded a dog and never shot at Harry.

Robert was arrested for murder but found not guilty, the jury calling it justifiable homicide.

The weeklong trial became a teaching moment for students of jurisprudence.

And maybe Aquila’s widow got the final word. She erected an unusual, elaborate grave marker.

It depicts an ambush that some believe led to her husband’s death, a scene complete with a one-armed man.

The inscription: “AQUILA A. HENNING, BORN JUNE 7, 1892, SHOT NOV. 24 1932. AN INNOCENT SOUL SENT TO ETERNITY.”

The dramatic marker can be seen at Old Albrightsville Cemetery, North Stage Coach Road.

Harold O. Messerschmidt

Beneath a simple, unassuming grave marker in Barnesville rests a man awarded the highest military decoration in the United States.

Harold O. Messerschmidt of Grier City was a sergeant with the U.S. Army, Company L, 30th Infantry, 3rd Infantry Division.

Messerschmidt, born Oct. 20, 1923, is said to have displayed outstanding courage for his actions in World War II.

In September 1944, he served during a German attack in France. He led his men until everyone had been killed or wounded.

The wording in his medal documentation: “Braving machine-gun, machine pistol, and rifle fire, he moved fearlessly and calmly from man-to-man along his 40-yard squad front, encouraging each to hold against the overwhelming assault of a fanatical foe surging up the hillside.

“Knocked to the ground by a burst from an enemy automatic weapon, he immediately jumped to his feet, and ignoring his grave wounds, fired his submachine gun at the enemy that was now upon them, killing five and wounding many others before his ammunition was spent.

“Virtually surrounded by a frenzied foe and all of his squad now casualties, he elected to fight alone, using his empty submachine gun as a bludgeon against his assailants. Spotting one of the enemy about to kill a wounded comrade, he felled the German with a blow of his weapon.”

Messerschmidt died in battle at age 20.

He was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor on July 17, 1946.

His grave can be found in Christ Lutheran Church Cemetery, Barnesville.

Another local, Pvt. Thomas Robinson, U.S. Army, of Tamaqua, earned the Medal of Honor for heroism on May 12, 1864, when he captured an enemy flag in hand-do-hand combat during the American Civil War.

However, his burial location is unknown.

Ida Verret

She only wanted a fun day at the circus. She paid with her life.

But the horrific death of Ida Kachelries Verret, a young nurse, and 168 other spectators, resulted in new laws to make circuses safer for everyone.

It was 1944, and Ida had just moved from Tamaqua to Hartford, Connecticut.

She took her children, Joan, 8, and Fred, 5, to see Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey’s Greatest Show on Earth. It had just rolled into town.

Joining them was sister-in-law Myrtle Verret, 22.

The family was among a crowd 7,000 to fill the bleachers and chairs.

The wildcat show had ended and the Flying Wallendas were up next.

Suddenly, a flame erupted at the far end of the tent. Its canvas had been treated with a mixture of gasoline and paraffin to make it waterproof. It was highly flammable.

Within seconds, the entire big top was ablaze, collapsing onto the audience.

Crowds rushed to the exits, pushing, pulling, falling on top of one another.

Ida and Myrtle grabbed the kids but became separated.

In the turmoil, both children found a way out and survived. The adults did not.

Little Fred was among 500 burned or injured.

Ida’s estate was awarded $9,750. Fred was awarded $12,500 for injuries.

The tragedy is now known as America’s worst circus fire, “The Day The Clowns Cried.”

New laws were enacted to govern circuses, mandating fireproof tents and well-marked exits, along with a smoking ban.

As for Ida, her remains were brought back to her hometown.

She rests in Odd Fellows Cemetery, West Broad Street, Tamaqua.