DON BLUE FUNERAL HELD LAST FRIDAY
Retired Locomotive Engineer Laid to Rest in Rose Hill Cemetery on Friday, April 25
Don Blue was buried in Rose Hill cemetery last Friday afternoon. His death was briefly mentioned in last week's paper. The funeral services were held in the home with Rev. Muhleman in charge. Mr. Blue was a citizen who had the respect of his large circle of acquaintances. He met every obligation squarely and honestly and integrity permeated every transaction in which he was involved. He held very pronounced views on the topics of the times and was an intelligent, interesting conversationalist. His long years of faithful service for the Northwestern Railroad company is one in which he and his family are justly proud. The following fitting obituary was prepared and read at the funeral services by the Rev. W. G. Muhleman.
Obituary
Donald Blue was born June 24, 1861 in Bergen, N.Y. He was the third child in a family of five children born to John and Marjorie Blue.
When Donald was seven years of age he moved to Iowa Falls, where he lived till he was 26 years old. Mr. Blue began work on the B. C. R. & N. R. B. which he helped to build through Goldfield. This road was taken over by the Rock Island railroad. He worked for this company for two years as brakeman. In 1888 he came to Eagle Grove and began to work for the C. & N. W. railroad. Three years later he was promoted to the position of engineer which position he held up until five years ago when he was pensioned.
Mr. Blue had some remarkable experiences and some very narrow escapes as a railroad man. Thirty-one years ago he narrowly escaped being killed when one of the large coal buckets used for loading an engine with coal, fell on him. He was off duty for a year as a result of this injury and has been a great sufferer since then as a result of this injury. On one occasion he was chosen to take Senator Dolliver from Eagle Grove to Nevada to fill a speaking engagement. All the good engines and coaches were in use but he was given what was thought to be an old wreck of an engine to which an old coach was attached. With this outfit he hauled the senator to Nevada, a distance of sixty miles in 51 minutes. The senator made his appointment for which he personally thanked Mr. Blue. He had many narrow escapes in floods and in winter snow storms when the track was drifted high with snow. He was a fearless but a quiet and careful man and exceptionally conscientious in all that he was and did. A railroad engineer has great responsibilities which few of us who ride the coaches in comfort realize. The writer has often wished that he could pay a satisfactory tribute to these men, but his one feeling about them may best be expressed in the poem, "The Men at the Throttle", by Ed E. Sheaskreen:
“Mounted high like Arab drivers
On their camels, swift and true,
Ride the men at the engine throttle.
In the cabs, who dare and do.
What a power they are controlling!
What a pathway they must tread,
Over prairies, deserts, mountains.
Lightning like their course is sped.
How they love those powerful monsters
That to them are things of life!
How they pet them and caress them
For their coming daily strife!
These are steeds of power unmeasured,
Heart of fire and breath of flame
Strength lies in their steely muscles,
And their speed has brought them flame.
Silent are these engine drivers
Mounted on their lacers back
Lips are drawn down close in tightness,
While they thunder down the track.
They must have the surest judgment;
Nerves must be like tempered steel;
They must have the eye of eagle,
Obligation strong must feel.
They must know the treacherous roadway,
"As the seaman knows the sea";
Safe to guide their iron chargers
O'er this path where perils be.
Should the line be fraught with danger,
At their post they ever stay.
Like the brave Pompilan watchman
Though their sky grew dark at day.
With the time card as their Bible,
Dispatcher’s orders as their creed,
They go whirling ‘cross the country
And a nation’s commerce lead.
As a meteor through the heavens
Speeding onward leaves its light,
So they wheel their human freightage
On behind them through the night.
Often do we see recorded
How these brave men met their fate
In the open, where their monsters
Crashed in combat fierce and great.
Though their not a nation’s soldiers,
They are just as true and brave,
And should have an honor equal
That which crowns the soldier’s grave.”
Mr. Blue was married to Miss Myrtle Newell, a teacher of Minneapolis, Minn., Sept. 4, 1894. They came to Eagle Grove immediately where they have since lived. For the past 29 years they have lived on N. Cadwell Ave., in what has been known as the Keith house. Three children were born to this union: Paul (deceased), Robert Donald and Russell Crail. Mr. Blue has been in failing health for a number of years. He passed to his eternal reward near noon, April 22, 1930, at the age of 68 years, 9 months, and 10 days. He is survived by his wife, his two sons, a granddaughter, Barbara Blue and one brother, Alexander Blue of Pekin, Ill.
Mr. Blue was a member of the Modern Woodmen of America and the B. of L. E.
Mr. Blue had some characteristics which are highly commendable in any man which ought to be mentioned here. He was of the old Scotch Presbyterian faith. He believed in Christians living up to what they believe. He believed in keeping the Sabbath day holy and doing only that work which was of necessity on that day. During the last few days of his life he seemed to have been given the far vision which permitted him to see into the other world from which he could not remove his eyes for he often beckoned to the unseen ones, whom only his eyes saw, to come nearer. Then he said to his family that he was going to build a house which would be large enough for all. He was probably thinking of the words of Christ found in John 14:2.
As a father and husband he was also unusual in that he never quarreled or wanted to be away from those whom he loved most, his wife and children. His sons find an expression of their thoughts regarding his ability as a provider in the language of Edgar A. Guest in his poem on "Father".
Used to wonder just why father
Never had much time to play,
Used to wonder why he'd rather
Work each minute of the day.
Used to wonder why he never
Loafed along the road an' shirked.
Can't recall a time whenever
Father played while others, worked.
Father didn't dress in fashion,
Sort of hated clothing new;
Boys are blind to much that's going
On about 'em day by day.
And I had no way of knowing
What became of father's pay.
All I knew was when I needed
Shoes I got 'em on the spot;
Everything for which 1 pleaded,
Somehow, father always got.
Wondered, season after season,
Why he never took a rest.
And that I might be the reason
Then I never even guessed.
Father set a store on knowledge;
If he'd lived to have his way
He'd have sent me off to college
And the bills been glad to pay.
That, I know, was his ambition;
Now and then he used to say
He'd have done his earthly mission
On my graduation day.
Saw his cheeks were getting paler,
Didn't understand just why;
Saw his body growing frailer.
Then at last I saw him die.
Rest had come! His tasks were ended,
Calm was written on his brow;
Father's life was big and splendid,
And I understand It now."
The funeral services were held in the home on Friday afternoon. Rev. W. G. Muhleman preached the funeral sermon, using for his text the words of Christ, found in John 14:2. Interment was made in Rose Hill.
EAGLE GROVE EAGLE
Eagle Grove, Iowa
Thursday, May 1, 1930
Page 1; Column 3 / Page 12; Column 4
Source: Foust Funeral Home, Eagle Grove, IA
Retired Locomotive Engineer Laid to Rest in Rose Hill Cemetery on Friday, April 25
Don Blue was buried in Rose Hill cemetery last Friday afternoon. His death was briefly mentioned in last week's paper. The funeral services were held in the home with Rev. Muhleman in charge. Mr. Blue was a citizen who had the respect of his large circle of acquaintances. He met every obligation squarely and honestly and integrity permeated every transaction in which he was involved. He held very pronounced views on the topics of the times and was an intelligent, interesting conversationalist. His long years of faithful service for the Northwestern Railroad company is one in which he and his family are justly proud. The following fitting obituary was prepared and read at the funeral services by the Rev. W. G. Muhleman.
Obituary
Donald Blue was born June 24, 1861 in Bergen, N.Y. He was the third child in a family of five children born to John and Marjorie Blue.
When Donald was seven years of age he moved to Iowa Falls, where he lived till he was 26 years old. Mr. Blue began work on the B. C. R. & N. R. B. which he helped to build through Goldfield. This road was taken over by the Rock Island railroad. He worked for this company for two years as brakeman. In 1888 he came to Eagle Grove and began to work for the C. & N. W. railroad. Three years later he was promoted to the position of engineer which position he held up until five years ago when he was pensioned.
Mr. Blue had some remarkable experiences and some very narrow escapes as a railroad man. Thirty-one years ago he narrowly escaped being killed when one of the large coal buckets used for loading an engine with coal, fell on him. He was off duty for a year as a result of this injury and has been a great sufferer since then as a result of this injury. On one occasion he was chosen to take Senator Dolliver from Eagle Grove to Nevada to fill a speaking engagement. All the good engines and coaches were in use but he was given what was thought to be an old wreck of an engine to which an old coach was attached. With this outfit he hauled the senator to Nevada, a distance of sixty miles in 51 minutes. The senator made his appointment for which he personally thanked Mr. Blue. He had many narrow escapes in floods and in winter snow storms when the track was drifted high with snow. He was a fearless but a quiet and careful man and exceptionally conscientious in all that he was and did. A railroad engineer has great responsibilities which few of us who ride the coaches in comfort realize. The writer has often wished that he could pay a satisfactory tribute to these men, but his one feeling about them may best be expressed in the poem, "The Men at the Throttle", by Ed E. Sheaskreen:
“Mounted high like Arab drivers
On their camels, swift and true,
Ride the men at the engine throttle.
In the cabs, who dare and do.
What a power they are controlling!
What a pathway they must tread,
Over prairies, deserts, mountains.
Lightning like their course is sped.
How they love those powerful monsters
That to them are things of life!
How they pet them and caress them
For their coming daily strife!
These are steeds of power unmeasured,
Heart of fire and breath of flame
Strength lies in their steely muscles,
And their speed has brought them flame.
Silent are these engine drivers
Mounted on their lacers back
Lips are drawn down close in tightness,
While they thunder down the track.
They must have the surest judgment;
Nerves must be like tempered steel;
They must have the eye of eagle,
Obligation strong must feel.
They must know the treacherous roadway,
"As the seaman knows the sea";
Safe to guide their iron chargers
O'er this path where perils be.
Should the line be fraught with danger,
At their post they ever stay.
Like the brave Pompilan watchman
Though their sky grew dark at day.
With the time card as their Bible,
Dispatcher’s orders as their creed,
They go whirling ‘cross the country
And a nation’s commerce lead.
As a meteor through the heavens
Speeding onward leaves its light,
So they wheel their human freightage
On behind them through the night.
Often do we see recorded
How these brave men met their fate
In the open, where their monsters
Crashed in combat fierce and great.
Though their not a nation’s soldiers,
They are just as true and brave,
And should have an honor equal
That which crowns the soldier’s grave.”
Mr. Blue was married to Miss Myrtle Newell, a teacher of Minneapolis, Minn., Sept. 4, 1894. They came to Eagle Grove immediately where they have since lived. For the past 29 years they have lived on N. Cadwell Ave., in what has been known as the Keith house. Three children were born to this union: Paul (deceased), Robert Donald and Russell Crail. Mr. Blue has been in failing health for a number of years. He passed to his eternal reward near noon, April 22, 1930, at the age of 68 years, 9 months, and 10 days. He is survived by his wife, his two sons, a granddaughter, Barbara Blue and one brother, Alexander Blue of Pekin, Ill.
Mr. Blue was a member of the Modern Woodmen of America and the B. of L. E.
Mr. Blue had some characteristics which are highly commendable in any man which ought to be mentioned here. He was of the old Scotch Presbyterian faith. He believed in Christians living up to what they believe. He believed in keeping the Sabbath day holy and doing only that work which was of necessity on that day. During the last few days of his life he seemed to have been given the far vision which permitted him to see into the other world from which he could not remove his eyes for he often beckoned to the unseen ones, whom only his eyes saw, to come nearer. Then he said to his family that he was going to build a house which would be large enough for all. He was probably thinking of the words of Christ found in John 14:2.
As a father and husband he was also unusual in that he never quarreled or wanted to be away from those whom he loved most, his wife and children. His sons find an expression of their thoughts regarding his ability as a provider in the language of Edgar A. Guest in his poem on "Father".
Used to wonder just why father
Never had much time to play,
Used to wonder why he'd rather
Work each minute of the day.
Used to wonder why he never
Loafed along the road an' shirked.
Can't recall a time whenever
Father played while others, worked.
Father didn't dress in fashion,
Sort of hated clothing new;
Boys are blind to much that's going
On about 'em day by day.
And I had no way of knowing
What became of father's pay.
All I knew was when I needed
Shoes I got 'em on the spot;
Everything for which 1 pleaded,
Somehow, father always got.
Wondered, season after season,
Why he never took a rest.
And that I might be the reason
Then I never even guessed.
Father set a store on knowledge;
If he'd lived to have his way
He'd have sent me off to college
And the bills been glad to pay.
That, I know, was his ambition;
Now and then he used to say
He'd have done his earthly mission
On my graduation day.
Saw his cheeks were getting paler,
Didn't understand just why;
Saw his body growing frailer.
Then at last I saw him die.
Rest had come! His tasks were ended,
Calm was written on his brow;
Father's life was big and splendid,
And I understand It now."
The funeral services were held in the home on Friday afternoon. Rev. W. G. Muhleman preached the funeral sermon, using for his text the words of Christ, found in John 14:2. Interment was made in Rose Hill.
EAGLE GROVE EAGLE
Eagle Grove, Iowa
Thursday, May 1, 1930
Page 1; Column 3 / Page 12; Column 4
Source: Foust Funeral Home, Eagle Grove, IA
DON BLUE FUNERAL HELD LAST FRIDAY
Retired Locomotive Engineer Laid to Rest in Rose Hill Cemetery on Friday, April 25
Don Blue was buried in Rose Hill cemetery last Friday afternoon. His death was briefly mentioned in last week's paper. The funeral services were held in the home with Rev. Muhleman in charge. Mr. Blue was a citizen who had the respect of his large circle of acquaintances. He met every obligation squarely and honestly and integrity permeated every transaction in which he was involved. He held very pronounced views on the topics of the times and was an intelligent, interesting conversationalist. His long years of faithful service for the Northwestern Railroad company is one in which he and his family are justly proud. The following fitting obituary was prepared and read at the funeral services by the Rev. W. G. Muhleman.
Obituary
Donald Blue was born June 24, 1861 in Bergen, N.Y. He was the third child in a family of five children born to John and Marjorie Blue.
When Donald was seven years of age he moved to Iowa Falls, where he lived till he was 26 years old. Mr. Blue began work on the B. C. R. & N. R. B. which he helped to build through Goldfield. This road was taken over by the Rock Island railroad. He worked for this company for two years as brakeman. In 1888 he came to Eagle Grove and began to work for the C. & N. W. railroad. Three years later he was promoted to the position of engineer which position he held up until five years ago when he was pensioned.
Mr. Blue had some remarkable experiences and some very narrow escapes as a railroad man. Thirty-one years ago he narrowly escaped being killed when one of the large coal buckets used for loading an engine with coal, fell on him. He was off duty for a year as a result of this injury and has been a great sufferer since then as a result of this injury. On one occasion he was chosen to take Senator Dolliver from Eagle Grove to Nevada to fill a speaking engagement. All the good engines and coaches were in use but he was given what was thought to be an old wreck of an engine to which an old coach was attached. With this outfit he hauled the senator to Nevada, a distance of sixty miles in 51 minutes. The senator made his appointment for which he personally thanked Mr. Blue. He had many narrow escapes in floods and in winter snow storms when the track was drifted high with snow. He was a fearless but a quiet and careful man and exceptionally conscientious in all that he was and did. A railroad engineer has great responsibilities which few of us who ride the coaches in comfort realize. The writer has often wished that he could pay a satisfactory tribute to these men, but his one feeling about them may best be expressed in the poem, "The Men at the Throttle", by Ed E. Sheaskreen:
“Mounted high like Arab drivers
On their camels, swift and true,
Ride the men at the engine throttle.
In the cabs, who dare and do.
What a power they are controlling!
What a pathway they must tread,
Over prairies, deserts, mountains.
Lightning like their course is sped.
How they love those powerful monsters
That to them are things of life!
How they pet them and caress them
For their coming daily strife!
These are steeds of power unmeasured,
Heart of fire and breath of flame
Strength lies in their steely muscles,
And their speed has brought them flame.
Silent are these engine drivers
Mounted on their lacers back
Lips are drawn down close in tightness,
While they thunder down the track.
They must have the surest judgment;
Nerves must be like tempered steel;
They must have the eye of eagle,
Obligation strong must feel.
They must know the treacherous roadway,
"As the seaman knows the sea";
Safe to guide their iron chargers
O'er this path where perils be.
Should the line be fraught with danger,
At their post they ever stay.
Like the brave Pompilan watchman
Though their sky grew dark at day.
With the time card as their Bible,
Dispatcher’s orders as their creed,
They go whirling ‘cross the country
And a nation’s commerce lead.
As a meteor through the heavens
Speeding onward leaves its light,
So they wheel their human freightage
On behind them through the night.
Often do we see recorded
How these brave men met their fate
In the open, where their monsters
Crashed in combat fierce and great.
Though their not a nation’s soldiers,
They are just as true and brave,
And should have an honor equal
That which crowns the soldier’s grave.”
Mr. Blue was married to Miss Myrtle Newell, a teacher of Minneapolis, Minn., Sept. 4, 1894. They came to Eagle Grove immediately where they have since lived. For the past 29 years they have lived on N. Cadwell Ave., in what has been known as the Keith house. Three children were born to this union: Paul (deceased), Robert Donald and Russell Crail. Mr. Blue has been in failing health for a number of years. He passed to his eternal reward near noon, April 22, 1930, at the age of 68 years, 9 months, and 10 days. He is survived by his wife, his two sons, a granddaughter, Barbara Blue and one brother, Alexander Blue of Pekin, Ill.
Mr. Blue was a member of the Modern Woodmen of America and the B. of L. E.
Mr. Blue had some characteristics which are highly commendable in any man which ought to be mentioned here. He was of the old Scotch Presbyterian faith. He believed in Christians living up to what they believe. He believed in keeping the Sabbath day holy and doing only that work which was of necessity on that day. During the last few days of his life he seemed to have been given the far vision which permitted him to see into the other world from which he could not remove his eyes for he often beckoned to the unseen ones, whom only his eyes saw, to come nearer. Then he said to his family that he was going to build a house which would be large enough for all. He was probably thinking of the words of Christ found in John 14:2.
As a father and husband he was also unusual in that he never quarreled or wanted to be away from those whom he loved most, his wife and children. His sons find an expression of their thoughts regarding his ability as a provider in the language of Edgar A. Guest in his poem on "Father".
Used to wonder just why father
Never had much time to play,
Used to wonder why he'd rather
Work each minute of the day.
Used to wonder why he never
Loafed along the road an' shirked.
Can't recall a time whenever
Father played while others, worked.
Father didn't dress in fashion,
Sort of hated clothing new;
Boys are blind to much that's going
On about 'em day by day.
And I had no way of knowing
What became of father's pay.
All I knew was when I needed
Shoes I got 'em on the spot;
Everything for which 1 pleaded,
Somehow, father always got.
Wondered, season after season,
Why he never took a rest.
And that I might be the reason
Then I never even guessed.
Father set a store on knowledge;
If he'd lived to have his way
He'd have sent me off to college
And the bills been glad to pay.
That, I know, was his ambition;
Now and then he used to say
He'd have done his earthly mission
On my graduation day.
Saw his cheeks were getting paler,
Didn't understand just why;
Saw his body growing frailer.
Then at last I saw him die.
Rest had come! His tasks were ended,
Calm was written on his brow;
Father's life was big and splendid,
And I understand It now."
The funeral services were held in the home on Friday afternoon. Rev. W. G. Muhleman preached the funeral sermon, using for his text the words of Christ, found in John 14:2. Interment was made in Rose Hill.
EAGLE GROVE EAGLE
Eagle Grove, Iowa
Thursday, May 1, 1930
Page 1; Column 3 / Page 12; Column 4
Source: Foust Funeral Home, Eagle Grove, IA
Retired Locomotive Engineer Laid to Rest in Rose Hill Cemetery on Friday, April 25
Don Blue was buried in Rose Hill cemetery last Friday afternoon. His death was briefly mentioned in last week's paper. The funeral services were held in the home with Rev. Muhleman in charge. Mr. Blue was a citizen who had the respect of his large circle of acquaintances. He met every obligation squarely and honestly and integrity permeated every transaction in which he was involved. He held very pronounced views on the topics of the times and was an intelligent, interesting conversationalist. His long years of faithful service for the Northwestern Railroad company is one in which he and his family are justly proud. The following fitting obituary was prepared and read at the funeral services by the Rev. W. G. Muhleman.
Obituary
Donald Blue was born June 24, 1861 in Bergen, N.Y. He was the third child in a family of five children born to John and Marjorie Blue.
When Donald was seven years of age he moved to Iowa Falls, where he lived till he was 26 years old. Mr. Blue began work on the B. C. R. & N. R. B. which he helped to build through Goldfield. This road was taken over by the Rock Island railroad. He worked for this company for two years as brakeman. In 1888 he came to Eagle Grove and began to work for the C. & N. W. railroad. Three years later he was promoted to the position of engineer which position he held up until five years ago when he was pensioned.
Mr. Blue had some remarkable experiences and some very narrow escapes as a railroad man. Thirty-one years ago he narrowly escaped being killed when one of the large coal buckets used for loading an engine with coal, fell on him. He was off duty for a year as a result of this injury and has been a great sufferer since then as a result of this injury. On one occasion he was chosen to take Senator Dolliver from Eagle Grove to Nevada to fill a speaking engagement. All the good engines and coaches were in use but he was given what was thought to be an old wreck of an engine to which an old coach was attached. With this outfit he hauled the senator to Nevada, a distance of sixty miles in 51 minutes. The senator made his appointment for which he personally thanked Mr. Blue. He had many narrow escapes in floods and in winter snow storms when the track was drifted high with snow. He was a fearless but a quiet and careful man and exceptionally conscientious in all that he was and did. A railroad engineer has great responsibilities which few of us who ride the coaches in comfort realize. The writer has often wished that he could pay a satisfactory tribute to these men, but his one feeling about them may best be expressed in the poem, "The Men at the Throttle", by Ed E. Sheaskreen:
“Mounted high like Arab drivers
On their camels, swift and true,
Ride the men at the engine throttle.
In the cabs, who dare and do.
What a power they are controlling!
What a pathway they must tread,
Over prairies, deserts, mountains.
Lightning like their course is sped.
How they love those powerful monsters
That to them are things of life!
How they pet them and caress them
For their coming daily strife!
These are steeds of power unmeasured,
Heart of fire and breath of flame
Strength lies in their steely muscles,
And their speed has brought them flame.
Silent are these engine drivers
Mounted on their lacers back
Lips are drawn down close in tightness,
While they thunder down the track.
They must have the surest judgment;
Nerves must be like tempered steel;
They must have the eye of eagle,
Obligation strong must feel.
They must know the treacherous roadway,
"As the seaman knows the sea";
Safe to guide their iron chargers
O'er this path where perils be.
Should the line be fraught with danger,
At their post they ever stay.
Like the brave Pompilan watchman
Though their sky grew dark at day.
With the time card as their Bible,
Dispatcher’s orders as their creed,
They go whirling ‘cross the country
And a nation’s commerce lead.
As a meteor through the heavens
Speeding onward leaves its light,
So they wheel their human freightage
On behind them through the night.
Often do we see recorded
How these brave men met their fate
In the open, where their monsters
Crashed in combat fierce and great.
Though their not a nation’s soldiers,
They are just as true and brave,
And should have an honor equal
That which crowns the soldier’s grave.”
Mr. Blue was married to Miss Myrtle Newell, a teacher of Minneapolis, Minn., Sept. 4, 1894. They came to Eagle Grove immediately where they have since lived. For the past 29 years they have lived on N. Cadwell Ave., in what has been known as the Keith house. Three children were born to this union: Paul (deceased), Robert Donald and Russell Crail. Mr. Blue has been in failing health for a number of years. He passed to his eternal reward near noon, April 22, 1930, at the age of 68 years, 9 months, and 10 days. He is survived by his wife, his two sons, a granddaughter, Barbara Blue and one brother, Alexander Blue of Pekin, Ill.
Mr. Blue was a member of the Modern Woodmen of America and the B. of L. E.
Mr. Blue had some characteristics which are highly commendable in any man which ought to be mentioned here. He was of the old Scotch Presbyterian faith. He believed in Christians living up to what they believe. He believed in keeping the Sabbath day holy and doing only that work which was of necessity on that day. During the last few days of his life he seemed to have been given the far vision which permitted him to see into the other world from which he could not remove his eyes for he often beckoned to the unseen ones, whom only his eyes saw, to come nearer. Then he said to his family that he was going to build a house which would be large enough for all. He was probably thinking of the words of Christ found in John 14:2.
As a father and husband he was also unusual in that he never quarreled or wanted to be away from those whom he loved most, his wife and children. His sons find an expression of their thoughts regarding his ability as a provider in the language of Edgar A. Guest in his poem on "Father".
Used to wonder just why father
Never had much time to play,
Used to wonder why he'd rather
Work each minute of the day.
Used to wonder why he never
Loafed along the road an' shirked.
Can't recall a time whenever
Father played while others, worked.
Father didn't dress in fashion,
Sort of hated clothing new;
Boys are blind to much that's going
On about 'em day by day.
And I had no way of knowing
What became of father's pay.
All I knew was when I needed
Shoes I got 'em on the spot;
Everything for which 1 pleaded,
Somehow, father always got.
Wondered, season after season,
Why he never took a rest.
And that I might be the reason
Then I never even guessed.
Father set a store on knowledge;
If he'd lived to have his way
He'd have sent me off to college
And the bills been glad to pay.
That, I know, was his ambition;
Now and then he used to say
He'd have done his earthly mission
On my graduation day.
Saw his cheeks were getting paler,
Didn't understand just why;
Saw his body growing frailer.
Then at last I saw him die.
Rest had come! His tasks were ended,
Calm was written on his brow;
Father's life was big and splendid,
And I understand It now."
The funeral services were held in the home on Friday afternoon. Rev. W. G. Muhleman preached the funeral sermon, using for his text the words of Christ, found in John 14:2. Interment was made in Rose Hill.
EAGLE GROVE EAGLE
Eagle Grove, Iowa
Thursday, May 1, 1930
Page 1; Column 3 / Page 12; Column 4
Source: Foust Funeral Home, Eagle Grove, IA
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