The Mountain Wave, February 18, 1899:
At one o'clock Saturday morning Feb. 4, 1899, death came to mercifully release the spirit of Mary Turney from a body which had for the last eighteen months been suffering almost unbearable torture from that most dreaded of all afflictions-consumption.
Although her death was not unexpected as it had been looked for for several weeks, the news of it caused a feeling of the deepest sorrow among her many friends.
For many months this noble womans had been confined to her bed, and gradually sank until last Friday morning, when it became evident that the end was near; that she could not last another day, when the children were notified, and at about one o'clock her tired spirit sank to rest, easily and gently as a little child, tired with its romps, sinks to sleep upon its mother's breast. A home at St. Joe was made desolate. The relentless hand of death had thrust in its sickle and garnered grain fully ripe for the harvest for sister Turney had passed her "three score and ten."
Sister Turney is gone. She had finished the work assigned her by the great Master above, and He called her home to receive her reward. What a convoy of bright angels must have assembled around the death bed of such a heroine. There surely were many there, ready to crown her with a crown sparkling with bright jewels, and to bear her soul safely to the Savior's arms. Is this death? We know her heart is still; her beaded brow is cold; her breast struggles for breath no more and her pale features hardened with the stress of life's resistance subsides into a smile.
The dark angel-death-had been standing without the door ready to cut the knot that binds the weary soul to earth, and now her freed spirit flies away towards heaven.
Oh, think of that raptured soul, now humbly walking the golden street, bearing the precious burden of love, too great for utterance or with hushed heart drinking the music of the ransomed throng.
When she passed away, she left behind such a store of love and trust, such a monument of good works, as only a few can leave.
Could we have the consciousness of such a useful life, spent in the service of our Maker, and for our fellow creatures, even the supreme faintness and collapse of death-we could even then cry boldly, with undying tenacity of faith-
"Nearer my God to thee"
And as the dream ceases, and the soul awakes in the great realm of realities, as our longing eyes descry on the God lit eternal shore, the dear eager faces of the souls that we have loved on earth, as we gaze on serene, beneficent countenance of the "Friend of Publicans and Sinners"-then, in that glad hour of redeemed and ennobled capacities, would we realize "That it is not all of life, to live nor all of death to die."
It is said "behind every great work, there is a great person," Sister Turney had devoted her entire life to Christian work.
Sunday the remains were laid to rest in the cemetery near St. Joe, on the beautiful mound overlooking the valley in which most of her life was spent. The funeral services were short and simple, conducted by Rev. Mr. Cathey in the presence of a goodly number of friends who had turned out to pay their last sad tribute, despite the raging blizzard.
Mary Turney was born in Hickman county, Tenn., Jan 29, 1826. When thirteen years old, her parents, Theophilus and Mary Parks, moved to Arkansas, settling in Searcy county. She was married to George Turney March 18, 1852, and leaves four children living-three sons and a daughter, all residing in the neighborhood except the latter. They are; P.B. Turney, age forty-six; G.A. Turney, age forty-four; John G. Turney, age forty-one, and Cynthia F., age thirty-four. THe latter is the wife of G.W. Daniel, who is in the U.S. mail service-was lately transferred from Denver, Colo., to the east and assigned to the trans-Atlantic division, and resides in New York. She leaves one sister-all that remains of her father's family-Mrs. Malinda Baker, who lives at Eureka Springs, Ark.
Mrs. Turney was on of the few who remained with her family of small children in Searcy county throughout the Great Civil War-1861-5, while her husband was fighting the battles for his country.
In the death of "Aunt Pop" as she was called by the hosts who knew her the community has lost one of the most illustrious women, the church a devoted sister-she having entered the vineyard of the Lord sixty years ago. In her death, her faithful husband, George Turney, has lost a tender and affectionate wife and her children a kind mother.
May the thought that she left behind her a long and useful life pure and unstained, without a shadow of blemish upon it, console and comfort the aged father, sons and daughter, in their bereavement, and detract from the bitterness of their cup of sorrow.
Dr. Turney, the venerable husband is in the seventy-fifth year of his age.
At one o'clock Saturday morning Feb. 4, 1899, death came to mercifully release the spirit of Mary Turney from a body which had for the last eighteen months been suffering almost unbearable torture from that most dreaded of all afflictions-consumption.
Although her death was not unexpected as it had been looked for for several weeks, the news of it caused a feeling of the deepest sorrow among her many friends.
For many months this noble womans had been confined to her bed, and gradually sank until last Friday morning, when it became evident that the end was near; that she could not last another day, when the children were notified, and at about one o'clock her tired spirit sank to rest, easily and gently as a little child, tired with its romps, sinks to sleep upon its mother's breast. A home at St. Joe was made desolate. The relentless hand of death had thrust in its sickle and garnered grain fully ripe for the harvest for sister Turney had passed her "three score and ten."
Sister Turney is gone. She had finished the work assigned her by the great Master above, and He called her home to receive her reward. What a convoy of bright angels must have assembled around the death bed of such a heroine. There surely were many there, ready to crown her with a crown sparkling with bright jewels, and to bear her soul safely to the Savior's arms. Is this death? We know her heart is still; her beaded brow is cold; her breast struggles for breath no more and her pale features hardened with the stress of life's resistance subsides into a smile.
The dark angel-death-had been standing without the door ready to cut the knot that binds the weary soul to earth, and now her freed spirit flies away towards heaven.
Oh, think of that raptured soul, now humbly walking the golden street, bearing the precious burden of love, too great for utterance or with hushed heart drinking the music of the ransomed throng.
When she passed away, she left behind such a store of love and trust, such a monument of good works, as only a few can leave.
Could we have the consciousness of such a useful life, spent in the service of our Maker, and for our fellow creatures, even the supreme faintness and collapse of death-we could even then cry boldly, with undying tenacity of faith-
"Nearer my God to thee"
And as the dream ceases, and the soul awakes in the great realm of realities, as our longing eyes descry on the God lit eternal shore, the dear eager faces of the souls that we have loved on earth, as we gaze on serene, beneficent countenance of the "Friend of Publicans and Sinners"-then, in that glad hour of redeemed and ennobled capacities, would we realize "That it is not all of life, to live nor all of death to die."
It is said "behind every great work, there is a great person," Sister Turney had devoted her entire life to Christian work.
Sunday the remains were laid to rest in the cemetery near St. Joe, on the beautiful mound overlooking the valley in which most of her life was spent. The funeral services were short and simple, conducted by Rev. Mr. Cathey in the presence of a goodly number of friends who had turned out to pay their last sad tribute, despite the raging blizzard.
Mary Turney was born in Hickman county, Tenn., Jan 29, 1826. When thirteen years old, her parents, Theophilus and Mary Parks, moved to Arkansas, settling in Searcy county. She was married to George Turney March 18, 1852, and leaves four children living-three sons and a daughter, all residing in the neighborhood except the latter. They are; P.B. Turney, age forty-six; G.A. Turney, age forty-four; John G. Turney, age forty-one, and Cynthia F., age thirty-four. THe latter is the wife of G.W. Daniel, who is in the U.S. mail service-was lately transferred from Denver, Colo., to the east and assigned to the trans-Atlantic division, and resides in New York. She leaves one sister-all that remains of her father's family-Mrs. Malinda Baker, who lives at Eureka Springs, Ark.
Mrs. Turney was on of the few who remained with her family of small children in Searcy county throughout the Great Civil War-1861-5, while her husband was fighting the battles for his country.
In the death of "Aunt Pop" as she was called by the hosts who knew her the community has lost one of the most illustrious women, the church a devoted sister-she having entered the vineyard of the Lord sixty years ago. In her death, her faithful husband, George Turney, has lost a tender and affectionate wife and her children a kind mother.
May the thought that she left behind her a long and useful life pure and unstained, without a shadow of blemish upon it, console and comfort the aged father, sons and daughter, in their bereavement, and detract from the bitterness of their cup of sorrow.
Dr. Turney, the venerable husband is in the seventy-fifth year of his age.
The Mountain Wave, February 18, 1899:
At one o'clock Saturday morning Feb. 4, 1899, death came to mercifully release the spirit of Mary Turney from a body which had for the last eighteen months been suffering almost unbearable torture from that most dreaded of all afflictions-consumption.
Although her death was not unexpected as it had been looked for for several weeks, the news of it caused a feeling of the deepest sorrow among her many friends.
For many months this noble womans had been confined to her bed, and gradually sank until last Friday morning, when it became evident that the end was near; that she could not last another day, when the children were notified, and at about one o'clock her tired spirit sank to rest, easily and gently as a little child, tired with its romps, sinks to sleep upon its mother's breast. A home at St. Joe was made desolate. The relentless hand of death had thrust in its sickle and garnered grain fully ripe for the harvest for sister Turney had passed her "three score and ten."
Sister Turney is gone. She had finished the work assigned her by the great Master above, and He called her home to receive her reward. What a convoy of bright angels must have assembled around the death bed of such a heroine. There surely were many there, ready to crown her with a crown sparkling with bright jewels, and to bear her soul safely to the Savior's arms. Is this death? We know her heart is still; her beaded brow is cold; her breast struggles for breath no more and her pale features hardened with the stress of life's resistance subsides into a smile.
The dark angel-death-had been standing without the door ready to cut the knot that binds the weary soul to earth, and now her freed spirit flies away towards heaven.
Oh, think of that raptured soul, now humbly walking the golden street, bearing the precious burden of love, too great for utterance or with hushed heart drinking the music of the ransomed throng.
When she passed away, she left behind such a store of love and trust, such a monument of good works, as only a few can leave.
Could we have the consciousness of such a useful life, spent in the service of our Maker, and for our fellow creatures, even the supreme faintness and collapse of death-we could even then cry boldly, with undying tenacity of faith-
"Nearer my God to thee"
And as the dream ceases, and the soul awakes in the great realm of realities, as our longing eyes descry on the God lit eternal shore, the dear eager faces of the souls that we have loved on earth, as we gaze on serene, beneficent countenance of the "Friend of Publicans and Sinners"-then, in that glad hour of redeemed and ennobled capacities, would we realize "That it is not all of life, to live nor all of death to die."
It is said "behind every great work, there is a great person," Sister Turney had devoted her entire life to Christian work.
Sunday the remains were laid to rest in the cemetery near St. Joe, on the beautiful mound overlooking the valley in which most of her life was spent. The funeral services were short and simple, conducted by Rev. Mr. Cathey in the presence of a goodly number of friends who had turned out to pay their last sad tribute, despite the raging blizzard.
Mary Turney was born in Hickman county, Tenn., Jan 29, 1826. When thirteen years old, her parents, Theophilus and Mary Parks, moved to Arkansas, settling in Searcy county. She was married to George Turney March 18, 1852, and leaves four children living-three sons and a daughter, all residing in the neighborhood except the latter. They are; P.B. Turney, age forty-six; G.A. Turney, age forty-four; John G. Turney, age forty-one, and Cynthia F., age thirty-four. THe latter is the wife of G.W. Daniel, who is in the U.S. mail service-was lately transferred from Denver, Colo., to the east and assigned to the trans-Atlantic division, and resides in New York. She leaves one sister-all that remains of her father's family-Mrs. Malinda Baker, who lives at Eureka Springs, Ark.
Mrs. Turney was on of the few who remained with her family of small children in Searcy county throughout the Great Civil War-1861-5, while her husband was fighting the battles for his country.
In the death of "Aunt Pop" as she was called by the hosts who knew her the community has lost one of the most illustrious women, the church a devoted sister-she having entered the vineyard of the Lord sixty years ago. In her death, her faithful husband, George Turney, has lost a tender and affectionate wife and her children a kind mother.
May the thought that she left behind her a long and useful life pure and unstained, without a shadow of blemish upon it, console and comfort the aged father, sons and daughter, in their bereavement, and detract from the bitterness of their cup of sorrow.
Dr. Turney, the venerable husband is in the seventy-fifth year of his age.
At one o'clock Saturday morning Feb. 4, 1899, death came to mercifully release the spirit of Mary Turney from a body which had for the last eighteen months been suffering almost unbearable torture from that most dreaded of all afflictions-consumption.
Although her death was not unexpected as it had been looked for for several weeks, the news of it caused a feeling of the deepest sorrow among her many friends.
For many months this noble womans had been confined to her bed, and gradually sank until last Friday morning, when it became evident that the end was near; that she could not last another day, when the children were notified, and at about one o'clock her tired spirit sank to rest, easily and gently as a little child, tired with its romps, sinks to sleep upon its mother's breast. A home at St. Joe was made desolate. The relentless hand of death had thrust in its sickle and garnered grain fully ripe for the harvest for sister Turney had passed her "three score and ten."
Sister Turney is gone. She had finished the work assigned her by the great Master above, and He called her home to receive her reward. What a convoy of bright angels must have assembled around the death bed of such a heroine. There surely were many there, ready to crown her with a crown sparkling with bright jewels, and to bear her soul safely to the Savior's arms. Is this death? We know her heart is still; her beaded brow is cold; her breast struggles for breath no more and her pale features hardened with the stress of life's resistance subsides into a smile.
The dark angel-death-had been standing without the door ready to cut the knot that binds the weary soul to earth, and now her freed spirit flies away towards heaven.
Oh, think of that raptured soul, now humbly walking the golden street, bearing the precious burden of love, too great for utterance or with hushed heart drinking the music of the ransomed throng.
When she passed away, she left behind such a store of love and trust, such a monument of good works, as only a few can leave.
Could we have the consciousness of such a useful life, spent in the service of our Maker, and for our fellow creatures, even the supreme faintness and collapse of death-we could even then cry boldly, with undying tenacity of faith-
"Nearer my God to thee"
And as the dream ceases, and the soul awakes in the great realm of realities, as our longing eyes descry on the God lit eternal shore, the dear eager faces of the souls that we have loved on earth, as we gaze on serene, beneficent countenance of the "Friend of Publicans and Sinners"-then, in that glad hour of redeemed and ennobled capacities, would we realize "That it is not all of life, to live nor all of death to die."
It is said "behind every great work, there is a great person," Sister Turney had devoted her entire life to Christian work.
Sunday the remains were laid to rest in the cemetery near St. Joe, on the beautiful mound overlooking the valley in which most of her life was spent. The funeral services were short and simple, conducted by Rev. Mr. Cathey in the presence of a goodly number of friends who had turned out to pay their last sad tribute, despite the raging blizzard.
Mary Turney was born in Hickman county, Tenn., Jan 29, 1826. When thirteen years old, her parents, Theophilus and Mary Parks, moved to Arkansas, settling in Searcy county. She was married to George Turney March 18, 1852, and leaves four children living-three sons and a daughter, all residing in the neighborhood except the latter. They are; P.B. Turney, age forty-six; G.A. Turney, age forty-four; John G. Turney, age forty-one, and Cynthia F., age thirty-four. THe latter is the wife of G.W. Daniel, who is in the U.S. mail service-was lately transferred from Denver, Colo., to the east and assigned to the trans-Atlantic division, and resides in New York. She leaves one sister-all that remains of her father's family-Mrs. Malinda Baker, who lives at Eureka Springs, Ark.
Mrs. Turney was on of the few who remained with her family of small children in Searcy county throughout the Great Civil War-1861-5, while her husband was fighting the battles for his country.
In the death of "Aunt Pop" as she was called by the hosts who knew her the community has lost one of the most illustrious women, the church a devoted sister-she having entered the vineyard of the Lord sixty years ago. In her death, her faithful husband, George Turney, has lost a tender and affectionate wife and her children a kind mother.
May the thought that she left behind her a long and useful life pure and unstained, without a shadow of blemish upon it, console and comfort the aged father, sons and daughter, in their bereavement, and detract from the bitterness of their cup of sorrow.
Dr. Turney, the venerable husband is in the seventy-fifth year of his age.
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