Wouldn’t it be interesting to meander through a Hall of Fame, looking at portraits and reading captions like, &uot;Vinnie Ream &045; Vinnie was born in a log cabin in Wisconsin and moved with her family to Washington, D.C., when she was a teenager.

She is still remembered as the 18-year-old who created the sculpture of Abraham Lincoln that was unveiled in 1871 and is now on display in the rotunda of the Capitol in Washington, D.C.”

Or a caption like this one, “Layton H. Burdette &045; In 1910, when Washington, D.C., health officials began to suspect that the common housefly carried infectious diseases, 13-year-old Layton formed a company of 25 friends, and together they flattened 343,000 flies in order to collect and divide the $25 reward that was offered for killing the most flies.”

Or a caption like this one, “Jenny Judge Sheehan was a well loved and upstanding member of the Freeborn County community, remembered for preparing meals for prisoners while her husband was county sheriff, for donating land for the first St. Theodore’s Catholic Church to be built in Albert Lea, for providing a loving home and caring for three sons, one of whom was disabled, and for supporting her husband while he was an Indian Agent and a Deputy U.S. Marshal. She was instrumental in the placement of a monument at Fort Ridgely that honors her husband for his part in saving the fort during the Dakota attack in 1862.”

Can you imagine a Hall of Fame for people who were never famous?

I’ve no idea how many people have lived in our world since its beginnings. Trillions? Quadrillions? (Is there such a word?) I do know that very few of them have markers denoting the place where their remains can be found, and even a smaller number are written about in history books.

Recorded history is an interesting thing. While I was growing up, I thought it was boring. I had a hard time remembering facts, dates and locations.

I was almost 40 before I realized that history is people &045; not printed words, but real people going about their daily lives doing good, working hard, being lazy, doing bad, whatever &045; real people.

Since history books cannot record the lives of each and every one, authors choose to write about the turning points &045; Columbus discovered America, or the Atomic Bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. While these events affect the lives of all of us, there were many, many other people who provided the support, encouragement and labor behind the scenes.

Such is the case with Jenny Sheehan. She was born in Sligo County, Ireland, in 1847 and immigrated to America when she was 7 years old. She married Timothy J. Sheehan in 1866.

Minnesota history books remember her husband for his service during the Civil War. It is next to impossible to find out anything about Jenny. She is buried in an unmarked grave in Cavalry Cemetery, St. Paul.

A small group of dedicated historical re-enactors are seeking to remedy that (the unmarked grave part). On Sunday, May 1 at 1 p.m., a grave marker will be dedicated to Jenny at the Cavalry Cemetery, 753 Front Ave., St. Paul. This marker will be purchased through donations, by a group of people who never knew her, are not related to her and who wish to honor her memory and that of the millions of women worldwide who have never been recognized for their participation in life.

The Freeborn County Historical Museum is serving as the fiscal agent for the memorial fund. If you are interested in helping to cover the cost of the stone marker, a small gift would be appreciated. Your check can be made out to FCHM and will be a tax deductible donation.

I guess my interest goes beyond that of the label &045; unknown women. There are so many people who have unselfishly given of themselves for the good of mankind. They go about their daily lives, working, playing, loving, and being, and they will never be mentioned in the history books or in a Hall of Fame.

They, too, we, too, are a part of history.

(Bev Jackson is the executive director and curator of the Freeborn County Historical Museum.)