Son of Lewis Matthew Anderson and Susan Ligon. His first wife was Mary Jackson, married about 1864. After her death, he married Margaret Olivia Robins 7 Jul 1879 in Jenkins Bridge, Accomack Co., Va.
~~~~~~~~~
James Madison Anderson[1] was the appointed preacher for Loudoun-Leesburg 1861-62. Born June 28, 1837, in Amelia Co., he attended Randolph-Macon College (1856-57). He was admitted to Va. MECS Conf on trial in 1857, ordained a Deacon in full connection in 1859, and ordained an Elder in full connection in 1864. He preached under MECS/MC appointment nearly 49 years (1857-1906) and died Feb. 4, 1906, in Irvington, Va., while serving his 4th year at White Stone. His other appointments were Lancaster, Westmoreland, Rock Creek-Howard, Patterson Creek, Chaplain for 40th Va. Inf Regiment C.S.A., Elk Run, Culpeper, Fluvanna, Madison, Albemarle, Atlantic, PE of Danville Dist, PE of Charlottesville Dist, Cumberland St (Norfolk), Hertford, Pungoteague, Nottoway, Blackstone, Middlesex, Hanover, and White Stone. He is buried with his wife, Margaret Olivia Robins Anderson (1842-1930), at White Stone UMC Cemetery, White Stone, Va.
[1] The Conf memoir for James Madison Anderson can be found in [Keene 1988, p. 337]. See also [Lafferty 1906].
Courtesy of Bob McDonald-Walker, from his work: "Vol 6 (Preachers) in Winchester District History"
~~~~~~~~~
The Virginia Citizen (Irvington, Va.),
Fri, 9 Feb 1906, p3, c4
The Grim Reaper Claims Rev. J. M. Anderson, Irvington's Pastor
"**and sorrow was a stranger to his soul:**
He put his hand with constancy to good, and angels knew him as a brother,
And the busy satellites of evil trembled as at God's ally: **
He bent his learning to religion, and religion was with him at the last
For I saw him after many days, when the time of his release was come,
And I long for a congregated world, to behold that dying saint.
As the aloe is green and well-liking, till the last best summer of its age,
And then hangeth out its golden bells, to mingle glory with corruption;
As a meteor traveleth in splendor, but bursteth in dazzling light;
Such was the end of the righteous: his death was the sun at his setting."
~Tupper
There had been no church service that day within Irvington's Methodist precincts, and nearly all had told them in whisper that the faithful shepherd of the flock lay dying. The bell had tolled the worshipers to church within the Baptist walls at the close of the sabbath day. The preacher of that flock had prayed fervently that his brother in Christ might be spared, if not contrary to the Almighty's will, and then begun his discourse. Silent but scurrying messengers entered and summoned a few to the parsonage across the way, and – then all knew that the earthly pilgrimage of Rev. James M. Anderson was at an end.
His sickness was sudden, and the death followed with giant strides. Friday night last Pastor Anderson was at the postoffice and stores, and for the moment engaged in hearty laughs at the conundrums passed around. Saturday morning – raw and cheerless – he wrapped up and started to give attention to his horse. He could not finish the task, returning to the parsonage complaining of his breast. Dr. Newbill was soon summoned, and seemed intuitively to know the case a severe one. The day and night were passed in anxiety for those around, and the Sunday dawned with some little hope, to be dissipated within a few hours. At 8:30 p.m. he gasped his last, the doctor at his head, wife and daughters around and sons out to summon friends attending the Baptist services.
Neuralgia of the heart is the closest definition of the conquering ill. Ever and anon pains would rack the once stately but prostate frame of the sufferer, and involuntarily his hand would seek to tear open his breast. The heart failed to respond to even rigid treatment. Though hardly painless, yet with cheerful look and breath our beloved pastor met his earthly fate.
Tuesday afternoon they buried him in beautiful White Stone Methodist cemetery, preceded by services at Irvington church. The edifice was packed, though tidings of sickness and death had hardly gotten through the county. Rev. J. T. Whitley, D.D., his presiding elder, was summoned from quarterly meeting at Gloucester Point, and with him came Rev. J. E. Deshazo – both old and beloved friends with their dead co-worker. Revs. E. F. Garner and J. S. Wallace, of Northumberland, were also there, and Rev. G. Y. Bradley, White Stone Baptist church, joined in the services as an invited friend. The memorials were short. All five ministers participating; no sermon was preached, but appropriate and touching testimonials were delivered by Reverands Whitley and Deshazo.
The funeral cortège was a long one, and probably the assembly of the grave was the largest ever seen here, despite the bitter cold day. The active pallbearers were his stewards, O. R. Hopkins, J. F. Bellows, H. W. Treakle, L. H. Rilee, J. W. Haydon (vice Dr. Newbill)l and G. R. Packett, and ex-stewards were named as honorary pallbearers.
Mr. Anderson was serving his fourth year on White Stone charge, having been sent here from Middlesex three years ago last fall by the Virginia Conference to succeed Rev. C. R. James. It was particularly fitting that this good and greatly beloved man should have begun and ended his ministry on Lancaster soil. In 1856 – nearly fifty years ago – he came from school here as a junior preacher, and the following year, taking into the Conference, he was assigned to Lancaster circuit. The soil – a part of old Lancaster circuit – today holds his remains. He was born in Amelia county June 28th, 1837, and was therefore nearly 69 years of age. He served well the Confederacy as chaplain and and soldier. Twice married, he leaves a widow (sister of Rev. J. W. S. Robins), and three sons and four daughters. Prof. Dice R. Anderson, principal Chesapeake Academy, Irvington, and Joseph E. Anderson and Miss Annie Anderson, of the faculty, are among them. Two married daughters reside in North Carolina. Three brothers, in Richmond, are also among the survivors.
"When shall we see his like again." These words of Mr. Whitley touched a response of sentiment in the minds and hearts of his listeners. Beloved of parishioners and church, he more than loved his church and people. Unquestionably life was sacrificed in his intense effort to further the work of the gospel. He wore himself out, disdaining to rust out. His strength, through energetic and nervous impulses, was overtaxed, but he died as he wished to die – in harness, yet at home. All that ever met him when will recall the sweeping and hearty handshake and the earnest an optimistic greeting, "Howd'y, Brother, howd'y!" He cannot be soon forgotten by those who knew him – he will live in the hearts of those to whom he ministered, to whom his life was a benefit and a blessing.
"He,
To whom a thousand memories call,
Not being less, but more than all
The gentleness he seemed to be."
~~~~~~~~~
James Madison Anderson[1] was the appointed preacher for Loudoun-Leesburg 1861-62. Born June 28, 1837, in Amelia Co., he attended Randolph-Macon College (1856-57). He was admitted to Va. MECS Conf on trial in 1857, ordained a Deacon in full connection in 1859, and ordained an Elder in full connection in 1864. He preached under MECS/MC appointment nearly 49 years (1857-1906) and died Feb. 4, 1906, in Irvington, Va., while serving his 4th year at White Stone. His other appointments were Lancaster, Westmoreland, Rock Creek-Howard, Patterson Creek, Chaplain for 40th Va. Inf Regiment C.S.A., Elk Run, Culpeper, Fluvanna, Madison, Albemarle, Atlantic, PE of Danville Dist, PE of Charlottesville Dist, Cumberland St (Norfolk), Hertford, Pungoteague, Nottoway, Blackstone, Middlesex, Hanover, and White Stone. He is buried with his wife, Margaret Olivia Robins Anderson (1842-1930), at White Stone UMC Cemetery, White Stone, Va.
[1] The Conf memoir for James Madison Anderson can be found in [Keene 1988, p. 337]. See also [Lafferty 1906].
Courtesy of Bob McDonald-Walker, from his work: "Vol 6 (Preachers) in Winchester District History"
~~~~~~~~~
The Virginia Citizen (Irvington, Va.),
Fri, 9 Feb 1906, p3, c4
The Grim Reaper Claims Rev. J. M. Anderson, Irvington's Pastor
"**and sorrow was a stranger to his soul:**
He put his hand with constancy to good, and angels knew him as a brother,
And the busy satellites of evil trembled as at God's ally: **
He bent his learning to religion, and religion was with him at the last
For I saw him after many days, when the time of his release was come,
And I long for a congregated world, to behold that dying saint.
As the aloe is green and well-liking, till the last best summer of its age,
And then hangeth out its golden bells, to mingle glory with corruption;
As a meteor traveleth in splendor, but bursteth in dazzling light;
Such was the end of the righteous: his death was the sun at his setting."
~Tupper
There had been no church service that day within Irvington's Methodist precincts, and nearly all had told them in whisper that the faithful shepherd of the flock lay dying. The bell had tolled the worshipers to church within the Baptist walls at the close of the sabbath day. The preacher of that flock had prayed fervently that his brother in Christ might be spared, if not contrary to the Almighty's will, and then begun his discourse. Silent but scurrying messengers entered and summoned a few to the parsonage across the way, and – then all knew that the earthly pilgrimage of Rev. James M. Anderson was at an end.
His sickness was sudden, and the death followed with giant strides. Friday night last Pastor Anderson was at the postoffice and stores, and for the moment engaged in hearty laughs at the conundrums passed around. Saturday morning – raw and cheerless – he wrapped up and started to give attention to his horse. He could not finish the task, returning to the parsonage complaining of his breast. Dr. Newbill was soon summoned, and seemed intuitively to know the case a severe one. The day and night were passed in anxiety for those around, and the Sunday dawned with some little hope, to be dissipated within a few hours. At 8:30 p.m. he gasped his last, the doctor at his head, wife and daughters around and sons out to summon friends attending the Baptist services.
Neuralgia of the heart is the closest definition of the conquering ill. Ever and anon pains would rack the once stately but prostate frame of the sufferer, and involuntarily his hand would seek to tear open his breast. The heart failed to respond to even rigid treatment. Though hardly painless, yet with cheerful look and breath our beloved pastor met his earthly fate.
Tuesday afternoon they buried him in beautiful White Stone Methodist cemetery, preceded by services at Irvington church. The edifice was packed, though tidings of sickness and death had hardly gotten through the county. Rev. J. T. Whitley, D.D., his presiding elder, was summoned from quarterly meeting at Gloucester Point, and with him came Rev. J. E. Deshazo – both old and beloved friends with their dead co-worker. Revs. E. F. Garner and J. S. Wallace, of Northumberland, were also there, and Rev. G. Y. Bradley, White Stone Baptist church, joined in the services as an invited friend. The memorials were short. All five ministers participating; no sermon was preached, but appropriate and touching testimonials were delivered by Reverands Whitley and Deshazo.
The funeral cortège was a long one, and probably the assembly of the grave was the largest ever seen here, despite the bitter cold day. The active pallbearers were his stewards, O. R. Hopkins, J. F. Bellows, H. W. Treakle, L. H. Rilee, J. W. Haydon (vice Dr. Newbill)l and G. R. Packett, and ex-stewards were named as honorary pallbearers.
Mr. Anderson was serving his fourth year on White Stone charge, having been sent here from Middlesex three years ago last fall by the Virginia Conference to succeed Rev. C. R. James. It was particularly fitting that this good and greatly beloved man should have begun and ended his ministry on Lancaster soil. In 1856 – nearly fifty years ago – he came from school here as a junior preacher, and the following year, taking into the Conference, he was assigned to Lancaster circuit. The soil – a part of old Lancaster circuit – today holds his remains. He was born in Amelia county June 28th, 1837, and was therefore nearly 69 years of age. He served well the Confederacy as chaplain and and soldier. Twice married, he leaves a widow (sister of Rev. J. W. S. Robins), and three sons and four daughters. Prof. Dice R. Anderson, principal Chesapeake Academy, Irvington, and Joseph E. Anderson and Miss Annie Anderson, of the faculty, are among them. Two married daughters reside in North Carolina. Three brothers, in Richmond, are also among the survivors.
"When shall we see his like again." These words of Mr. Whitley touched a response of sentiment in the minds and hearts of his listeners. Beloved of parishioners and church, he more than loved his church and people. Unquestionably life was sacrificed in his intense effort to further the work of the gospel. He wore himself out, disdaining to rust out. His strength, through energetic and nervous impulses, was overtaxed, but he died as he wished to die – in harness, yet at home. All that ever met him when will recall the sweeping and hearty handshake and the earnest an optimistic greeting, "Howd'y, Brother, howd'y!" He cannot be soon forgotten by those who knew him – he will live in the hearts of those to whom he ministered, to whom his life was a benefit and a blessing.
"He,
To whom a thousand memories call,
Not being less, but more than all
The gentleness he seemed to be."
Son of Lewis Matthew Anderson and Susan Ligon. His first wife was Mary Jackson, married about 1864. After her death, he married Margaret Olivia Robins 7 Jul 1879 in Jenkins Bridge, Accomack Co., Va.
~~~~~~~~~
James Madison Anderson[1] was the appointed preacher for Loudoun-Leesburg 1861-62. Born June 28, 1837, in Amelia Co., he attended Randolph-Macon College (1856-57). He was admitted to Va. MECS Conf on trial in 1857, ordained a Deacon in full connection in 1859, and ordained an Elder in full connection in 1864. He preached under MECS/MC appointment nearly 49 years (1857-1906) and died Feb. 4, 1906, in Irvington, Va., while serving his 4th year at White Stone. His other appointments were Lancaster, Westmoreland, Rock Creek-Howard, Patterson Creek, Chaplain for 40th Va. Inf Regiment C.S.A., Elk Run, Culpeper, Fluvanna, Madison, Albemarle, Atlantic, PE of Danville Dist, PE of Charlottesville Dist, Cumberland St (Norfolk), Hertford, Pungoteague, Nottoway, Blackstone, Middlesex, Hanover, and White Stone. He is buried with his wife, Margaret Olivia Robins Anderson (1842-1930), at White Stone UMC Cemetery, White Stone, Va.
[1] The Conf memoir for James Madison Anderson can be found in [Keene 1988, p. 337]. See also [Lafferty 1906].
Courtesy of Bob McDonald-Walker, from his work: "Vol 6 (Preachers) in Winchester District History"
~~~~~~~~~
The Virginia Citizen (Irvington, Va.),
Fri, 9 Feb 1906, p3, c4
The Grim Reaper Claims Rev. J. M. Anderson, Irvington's Pastor
"**and sorrow was a stranger to his soul:**
He put his hand with constancy to good, and angels knew him as a brother,
And the busy satellites of evil trembled as at God's ally: **
He bent his learning to religion, and religion was with him at the last
For I saw him after many days, when the time of his release was come,
And I long for a congregated world, to behold that dying saint.
As the aloe is green and well-liking, till the last best summer of its age,
And then hangeth out its golden bells, to mingle glory with corruption;
As a meteor traveleth in splendor, but bursteth in dazzling light;
Such was the end of the righteous: his death was the sun at his setting."
~Tupper
There had been no church service that day within Irvington's Methodist precincts, and nearly all had told them in whisper that the faithful shepherd of the flock lay dying. The bell had tolled the worshipers to church within the Baptist walls at the close of the sabbath day. The preacher of that flock had prayed fervently that his brother in Christ might be spared, if not contrary to the Almighty's will, and then begun his discourse. Silent but scurrying messengers entered and summoned a few to the parsonage across the way, and – then all knew that the earthly pilgrimage of Rev. James M. Anderson was at an end.
His sickness was sudden, and the death followed with giant strides. Friday night last Pastor Anderson was at the postoffice and stores, and for the moment engaged in hearty laughs at the conundrums passed around. Saturday morning – raw and cheerless – he wrapped up and started to give attention to his horse. He could not finish the task, returning to the parsonage complaining of his breast. Dr. Newbill was soon summoned, and seemed intuitively to know the case a severe one. The day and night were passed in anxiety for those around, and the Sunday dawned with some little hope, to be dissipated within a few hours. At 8:30 p.m. he gasped his last, the doctor at his head, wife and daughters around and sons out to summon friends attending the Baptist services.
Neuralgia of the heart is the closest definition of the conquering ill. Ever and anon pains would rack the once stately but prostate frame of the sufferer, and involuntarily his hand would seek to tear open his breast. The heart failed to respond to even rigid treatment. Though hardly painless, yet with cheerful look and breath our beloved pastor met his earthly fate.
Tuesday afternoon they buried him in beautiful White Stone Methodist cemetery, preceded by services at Irvington church. The edifice was packed, though tidings of sickness and death had hardly gotten through the county. Rev. J. T. Whitley, D.D., his presiding elder, was summoned from quarterly meeting at Gloucester Point, and with him came Rev. J. E. Deshazo – both old and beloved friends with their dead co-worker. Revs. E. F. Garner and J. S. Wallace, of Northumberland, were also there, and Rev. G. Y. Bradley, White Stone Baptist church, joined in the services as an invited friend. The memorials were short. All five ministers participating; no sermon was preached, but appropriate and touching testimonials were delivered by Reverands Whitley and Deshazo.
The funeral cortège was a long one, and probably the assembly of the grave was the largest ever seen here, despite the bitter cold day. The active pallbearers were his stewards, O. R. Hopkins, J. F. Bellows, H. W. Treakle, L. H. Rilee, J. W. Haydon (vice Dr. Newbill)l and G. R. Packett, and ex-stewards were named as honorary pallbearers.
Mr. Anderson was serving his fourth year on White Stone charge, having been sent here from Middlesex three years ago last fall by the Virginia Conference to succeed Rev. C. R. James. It was particularly fitting that this good and greatly beloved man should have begun and ended his ministry on Lancaster soil. In 1856 – nearly fifty years ago – he came from school here as a junior preacher, and the following year, taking into the Conference, he was assigned to Lancaster circuit. The soil – a part of old Lancaster circuit – today holds his remains. He was born in Amelia county June 28th, 1837, and was therefore nearly 69 years of age. He served well the Confederacy as chaplain and and soldier. Twice married, he leaves a widow (sister of Rev. J. W. S. Robins), and three sons and four daughters. Prof. Dice R. Anderson, principal Chesapeake Academy, Irvington, and Joseph E. Anderson and Miss Annie Anderson, of the faculty, are among them. Two married daughters reside in North Carolina. Three brothers, in Richmond, are also among the survivors.
"When shall we see his like again." These words of Mr. Whitley touched a response of sentiment in the minds and hearts of his listeners. Beloved of parishioners and church, he more than loved his church and people. Unquestionably life was sacrificed in his intense effort to further the work of the gospel. He wore himself out, disdaining to rust out. His strength, through energetic and nervous impulses, was overtaxed, but he died as he wished to die – in harness, yet at home. All that ever met him when will recall the sweeping and hearty handshake and the earnest an optimistic greeting, "Howd'y, Brother, howd'y!" He cannot be soon forgotten by those who knew him – he will live in the hearts of those to whom he ministered, to whom his life was a benefit and a blessing.
"He,
To whom a thousand memories call,
Not being less, but more than all
The gentleness he seemed to be."
~~~~~~~~~
James Madison Anderson[1] was the appointed preacher for Loudoun-Leesburg 1861-62. Born June 28, 1837, in Amelia Co., he attended Randolph-Macon College (1856-57). He was admitted to Va. MECS Conf on trial in 1857, ordained a Deacon in full connection in 1859, and ordained an Elder in full connection in 1864. He preached under MECS/MC appointment nearly 49 years (1857-1906) and died Feb. 4, 1906, in Irvington, Va., while serving his 4th year at White Stone. His other appointments were Lancaster, Westmoreland, Rock Creek-Howard, Patterson Creek, Chaplain for 40th Va. Inf Regiment C.S.A., Elk Run, Culpeper, Fluvanna, Madison, Albemarle, Atlantic, PE of Danville Dist, PE of Charlottesville Dist, Cumberland St (Norfolk), Hertford, Pungoteague, Nottoway, Blackstone, Middlesex, Hanover, and White Stone. He is buried with his wife, Margaret Olivia Robins Anderson (1842-1930), at White Stone UMC Cemetery, White Stone, Va.
[1] The Conf memoir for James Madison Anderson can be found in [Keene 1988, p. 337]. See also [Lafferty 1906].
Courtesy of Bob McDonald-Walker, from his work: "Vol 6 (Preachers) in Winchester District History"
~~~~~~~~~
The Virginia Citizen (Irvington, Va.),
Fri, 9 Feb 1906, p3, c4
The Grim Reaper Claims Rev. J. M. Anderson, Irvington's Pastor
"**and sorrow was a stranger to his soul:**
He put his hand with constancy to good, and angels knew him as a brother,
And the busy satellites of evil trembled as at God's ally: **
He bent his learning to religion, and religion was with him at the last
For I saw him after many days, when the time of his release was come,
And I long for a congregated world, to behold that dying saint.
As the aloe is green and well-liking, till the last best summer of its age,
And then hangeth out its golden bells, to mingle glory with corruption;
As a meteor traveleth in splendor, but bursteth in dazzling light;
Such was the end of the righteous: his death was the sun at his setting."
~Tupper
There had been no church service that day within Irvington's Methodist precincts, and nearly all had told them in whisper that the faithful shepherd of the flock lay dying. The bell had tolled the worshipers to church within the Baptist walls at the close of the sabbath day. The preacher of that flock had prayed fervently that his brother in Christ might be spared, if not contrary to the Almighty's will, and then begun his discourse. Silent but scurrying messengers entered and summoned a few to the parsonage across the way, and – then all knew that the earthly pilgrimage of Rev. James M. Anderson was at an end.
His sickness was sudden, and the death followed with giant strides. Friday night last Pastor Anderson was at the postoffice and stores, and for the moment engaged in hearty laughs at the conundrums passed around. Saturday morning – raw and cheerless – he wrapped up and started to give attention to his horse. He could not finish the task, returning to the parsonage complaining of his breast. Dr. Newbill was soon summoned, and seemed intuitively to know the case a severe one. The day and night were passed in anxiety for those around, and the Sunday dawned with some little hope, to be dissipated within a few hours. At 8:30 p.m. he gasped his last, the doctor at his head, wife and daughters around and sons out to summon friends attending the Baptist services.
Neuralgia of the heart is the closest definition of the conquering ill. Ever and anon pains would rack the once stately but prostate frame of the sufferer, and involuntarily his hand would seek to tear open his breast. The heart failed to respond to even rigid treatment. Though hardly painless, yet with cheerful look and breath our beloved pastor met his earthly fate.
Tuesday afternoon they buried him in beautiful White Stone Methodist cemetery, preceded by services at Irvington church. The edifice was packed, though tidings of sickness and death had hardly gotten through the county. Rev. J. T. Whitley, D.D., his presiding elder, was summoned from quarterly meeting at Gloucester Point, and with him came Rev. J. E. Deshazo – both old and beloved friends with their dead co-worker. Revs. E. F. Garner and J. S. Wallace, of Northumberland, were also there, and Rev. G. Y. Bradley, White Stone Baptist church, joined in the services as an invited friend. The memorials were short. All five ministers participating; no sermon was preached, but appropriate and touching testimonials were delivered by Reverands Whitley and Deshazo.
The funeral cortège was a long one, and probably the assembly of the grave was the largest ever seen here, despite the bitter cold day. The active pallbearers were his stewards, O. R. Hopkins, J. F. Bellows, H. W. Treakle, L. H. Rilee, J. W. Haydon (vice Dr. Newbill)l and G. R. Packett, and ex-stewards were named as honorary pallbearers.
Mr. Anderson was serving his fourth year on White Stone charge, having been sent here from Middlesex three years ago last fall by the Virginia Conference to succeed Rev. C. R. James. It was particularly fitting that this good and greatly beloved man should have begun and ended his ministry on Lancaster soil. In 1856 – nearly fifty years ago – he came from school here as a junior preacher, and the following year, taking into the Conference, he was assigned to Lancaster circuit. The soil – a part of old Lancaster circuit – today holds his remains. He was born in Amelia county June 28th, 1837, and was therefore nearly 69 years of age. He served well the Confederacy as chaplain and and soldier. Twice married, he leaves a widow (sister of Rev. J. W. S. Robins), and three sons and four daughters. Prof. Dice R. Anderson, principal Chesapeake Academy, Irvington, and Joseph E. Anderson and Miss Annie Anderson, of the faculty, are among them. Two married daughters reside in North Carolina. Three brothers, in Richmond, are also among the survivors.
"When shall we see his like again." These words of Mr. Whitley touched a response of sentiment in the minds and hearts of his listeners. Beloved of parishioners and church, he more than loved his church and people. Unquestionably life was sacrificed in his intense effort to further the work of the gospel. He wore himself out, disdaining to rust out. His strength, through energetic and nervous impulses, was overtaxed, but he died as he wished to die – in harness, yet at home. All that ever met him when will recall the sweeping and hearty handshake and the earnest an optimistic greeting, "Howd'y, Brother, howd'y!" He cannot be soon forgotten by those who knew him – he will live in the hearts of those to whom he ministered, to whom his life was a benefit and a blessing.
"He,
To whom a thousand memories call,
Not being less, but more than all
The gentleness he seemed to be."
Inscription
"For he was a great
man and full of
the Holy Ghost
and of faith."
Acts 11:24
Family Members
Sponsored by Ancestry
Advertisement
Records on Ancestry
Advertisement
