For nearly a century, Private Isham A. Mitchell lay in Greenwood Cemetery without a headstone. The Buffalo Soldier, who served in the 25th Infantry from 1907 to 1913, was buried in Spokane 91 years ago, but his final resting place went unmarked after his widow’s pleas for assistance were denied.
That changed on July 26, when his granddaughter, Sandra Freeman, stood before a newly placed headstone at Greenwood. Surrounded by family, community members, and the Spokane Chapter of the Buffalo Soldiers Motorcycle Club, Freeman fulfilled a dream deferred – not only for her grandfather, but for the generations of family who carried his memory without the honor he deserved. She shared this journey in her remarks before the crowd in attendance.
A Purpose in Spokane
“When I moved back to Spokane, I knew I had a purpose,” Freeman told those gathered. “And the purpose was to bring my family to life and for others to learn about the path that they left for me.”
The ceremony began with military honors from the VFW Post 51 and the Fairchild AFB Honor Honor Guard. Pastor Walter Kendricks delivered the invocation, followed by the Buffalo Soldiers Motorcycle Club, Spokane Chapter who stood alongside and supported Freeman’s family to mark the long-overdue tribute.
The Box in the Garage
Her journey started last year while preparing for a Black history event at Liberty Park. Going through old boxes in her garage, Freeman uncovered her grandfather’s 118-year-old discharge papers. “When I saw 25th Infantry, I was like, oh boy. I got a Buffalo Soldier in my family,” she recalled.
She also found a letter her grandmother, Maddie, wrote to the War Department asking for burial assistance. “She couldn’t afford her husband’s burial, so she sent this letter and got denied. So she sent it again and put down more of the things that my grandfather had accomplished. And again, she got denied for help. So that’s why my grandfather didn’t have a headstone.”
The Photograph That Changed Everything
Later, Freeman found a photograph that became the turning point. It showed her grandmother Maddie with her baby son beside a grave marker. “I just looked at it and I thought, oh, they’re at a park. I didn’t know where they were, so I went past it, and then about five minutes later it dawned on me. They’re at the cemetery and they’re looking at exactly the grave that I’m trying to find.”
The photo, lined up with the surrounding trees and stones, confirmed where Isham Mitchell had been buried. “I was floored when I found this picture. So I feel that I was meant to have this headstone installed.”
The Buffalo Soldiers Step In
Determined to act, Freeman approached the Spokane Chapter of the Buffalo Soldiers Motorcycle Club during a community event. From there, the club took the lead. Member Curtis researched the process, tracked down information on Mitchell, filed the paperwork, and guided the family through the federal approval process for a government-issued headstone.
“When Curtis called me and said, it is here, we were holding our breath,” Freeman said. “Because it was such a huge, huge thing for us. We came out here and there it was. It was hard to believe that it was finally installed.”
Restoring Honor
At the graveside, Freeman presented certificates from the United States government recognizing Isham Mitchell’s service. One was given to her brother, Fred, along with a commemorative patch designed by the Buffalo Soldiers Motorcycle Club bearing Mitchell’s name and service years. Another was presented to the club itself, in gratitude for their tireless work.
“For 91 years, my grandfather lay here without a marker,” Freeman told the audience. “Now his service and sacrifice will never be forgotten.”
Preservation and Legacy
Freeman’s discovery and the Buffalo Soldiers’ advocacy echo other efforts to preserve Spokane’s hidden Black history. Just this spring, The Black Lens genealogy column by Patricia Bayonne-Johnson highlighted Malbert Cooper, another Buffalo Soldier buried at Greenwood Cemetery. Like Mitchell, Cooper’s story reminds us how many lives of service remain unrecognized without family and community efforts to preserve their memory.
For Freeman, this work is both personal and collective. “I know my grandfather is right here with us,” she said. “And so is my grandmother Maddie, my mom Francis, and my uncle. This has been a long time coming.”
Her words carried a message beyond her family: “Nothing is more important than preserving our family records and stories. They are our inheritance – and our responsibility.”
On that summer afternoon, through the devotion of a granddaughter and the persistence of the Spokane Buffalo Soldiers, a dream deferred was finally fulfilled.