Gravette News-Herald
Gravette, AR
April 21, 1922
FUNK, Mary Cooper – {from Hiwasse} Mrs. Mary Cooper Funk died at the home of her parents northeast of town and was buried in the family plot.
The Weekly Vista February 28, 1990
A place in Bella Vista's history
Where May Funk rests
David Cox – Weekly Vista Reporter
It was in April, a cold, windy day when she was buried. Her five children – four boys and girl – stood at the edge of the deep grave, none hearing the words of the preacher as he read from Ecclesiastes.
A crowd of 50 or 60 had gathered there, including all who dwelled within reasonable travel distance. Most were her relatives or those of her husband.
But he was not there.
The baby wriggled playfully in his sister Leona's arms. She began sobbing again, just as she had inside the Rocky Comfort Schoolhouse during the funeral. Grandmother Cooper lifted the infant from her arms and whispered, "Be quite!"
She tried. But when the men with the long-handled spades began shoveling dirt onto the lid of the casket, she could hold it no longer. Hot tears stung her cheeks as she glared angrily at the men, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
Preston and Otto, her mother's brothers, had built the box from yellow pine wood. Grandma Cooper had lined the inside of it with a hand-embroidered comforter, and her mother's head rested on an embroidered pillowcase.
"Why are you crying?" asked three-year-old Glee, tugging at her jacket. Leona did not answer, but looked at her brothers one by one. She feared she could not care for them all. She feared even more they would be separated, because neither she nor her grandparents could manage all four.
Leona was only 13. But for the past four years she had been as much a mother to her brothers as had anyone.
Four years. May Funk finished dying in 1922 at the age of 35, but the process had been slow. She contracted tuberculosis about the time she and her husband, Melvin Theodore "Ted" Funk, moved to Montana. He worked for the Great Northern Railroad, and during the last years of her life she made the rail journey five times back to her northwest Arkansas home.
Alva May Funk was a frail woman even before she became ill. Small-boned and delicate, she had fair skin and wispy, reddish blonde hair – such a contrast from her dark, broad chested husband. And their backgrounds contrasted as much as their physical descriptions.
He was a Funk. His father, Hiram F. Funk, had homesteaded in Gordon's Hollow. By area standards he was a wealthy man, and his land holdings and cattle herd made his the largest ranch for miles. Hiram was a shrewd trader, unencumbered with religious convictions.
Not many miles away was Happy Hollow, undoubtedly named by an optimist whose vision for the place was never realized. The Coopers were poor, dwelling in a three-room cabin beside a spring. They were devoutly Catholic, holding to the mystical traditions of their Irish ancestors, despite the absence of a Catholic church near home. They worshipped, along with most everyone else, with the non-denominational congregation that gathered at the schoolhouse. May, who is said to have had a beautiful voice, sang in the choir.
The Coopers had little regard for irreligious persons, especially if they were wealthy … especially if they were Funks. Their resentment was so bitter they literally chased Ted from their cabin the first time he came calling.
After Ted and May married, they managed to keep at least a façade of peace between the clans. Then the children came, and the grandparents fought maliciously for their affection.
Perhaps that is why Ted and May left for Montana. There they were no longer a mismatched couple, carrying with them the baggage of a second generation feud; they were just a young family trying to build a home for themselves.
TB ended the dream with bitter irony. Now Ted's absence at the funeral only reinforced the Cooper's view that he was unworthy of May. They did not realize he was at the moment preparing to return to her side, yet unaware of her passing.
Glee was not disturbed so much by the casket, or the memories of his mother's dying words, as by the line of sympathizers who now filed past the children. The men patted his black hat, the women hid their red faces behind handkerchiefs and clutched his shoulder, the children just stared through frightened eyes. No one said anything. He could not understand why they acted to strangely.
Glee watched as they left on buggies and wagons, on horses, on foot. They disappeared over the rise as they made their way back to the hollows and hills where they lived. Soon only the children and the Cooper grandparents remained. It was quiet, except for the muffled ringing of the shovels as the men finished their work.
Then he heard the quiet whisper of the wind through the spring leaves of the oak tree beside the grave. Grandma heard it too, because she recalled out loud how May had played beneath its branches as a child. All the children had played there during recess as the Rocky Comfort School.
But no child ever played there again.
∼Wife of Ted Funk
Gravette, AR
April 21, 1922
FUNK, Mary Cooper – {from Hiwasse} Mrs. Mary Cooper Funk died at the home of her parents northeast of town and was buried in the family plot.
The Weekly Vista February 28, 1990
A place in Bella Vista's history
Where May Funk rests
David Cox – Weekly Vista Reporter
It was in April, a cold, windy day when she was buried. Her five children – four boys and girl – stood at the edge of the deep grave, none hearing the words of the preacher as he read from Ecclesiastes.
A crowd of 50 or 60 had gathered there, including all who dwelled within reasonable travel distance. Most were her relatives or those of her husband.
But he was not there.
The baby wriggled playfully in his sister Leona's arms. She began sobbing again, just as she had inside the Rocky Comfort Schoolhouse during the funeral. Grandmother Cooper lifted the infant from her arms and whispered, "Be quite!"
She tried. But when the men with the long-handled spades began shoveling dirt onto the lid of the casket, she could hold it no longer. Hot tears stung her cheeks as she glared angrily at the men, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
Preston and Otto, her mother's brothers, had built the box from yellow pine wood. Grandma Cooper had lined the inside of it with a hand-embroidered comforter, and her mother's head rested on an embroidered pillowcase.
"Why are you crying?" asked three-year-old Glee, tugging at her jacket. Leona did not answer, but looked at her brothers one by one. She feared she could not care for them all. She feared even more they would be separated, because neither she nor her grandparents could manage all four.
Leona was only 13. But for the past four years she had been as much a mother to her brothers as had anyone.
Four years. May Funk finished dying in 1922 at the age of 35, but the process had been slow. She contracted tuberculosis about the time she and her husband, Melvin Theodore "Ted" Funk, moved to Montana. He worked for the Great Northern Railroad, and during the last years of her life she made the rail journey five times back to her northwest Arkansas home.
Alva May Funk was a frail woman even before she became ill. Small-boned and delicate, she had fair skin and wispy, reddish blonde hair – such a contrast from her dark, broad chested husband. And their backgrounds contrasted as much as their physical descriptions.
He was a Funk. His father, Hiram F. Funk, had homesteaded in Gordon's Hollow. By area standards he was a wealthy man, and his land holdings and cattle herd made his the largest ranch for miles. Hiram was a shrewd trader, unencumbered with religious convictions.
Not many miles away was Happy Hollow, undoubtedly named by an optimist whose vision for the place was never realized. The Coopers were poor, dwelling in a three-room cabin beside a spring. They were devoutly Catholic, holding to the mystical traditions of their Irish ancestors, despite the absence of a Catholic church near home. They worshipped, along with most everyone else, with the non-denominational congregation that gathered at the schoolhouse. May, who is said to have had a beautiful voice, sang in the choir.
The Coopers had little regard for irreligious persons, especially if they were wealthy … especially if they were Funks. Their resentment was so bitter they literally chased Ted from their cabin the first time he came calling.
After Ted and May married, they managed to keep at least a façade of peace between the clans. Then the children came, and the grandparents fought maliciously for their affection.
Perhaps that is why Ted and May left for Montana. There they were no longer a mismatched couple, carrying with them the baggage of a second generation feud; they were just a young family trying to build a home for themselves.
TB ended the dream with bitter irony. Now Ted's absence at the funeral only reinforced the Cooper's view that he was unworthy of May. They did not realize he was at the moment preparing to return to her side, yet unaware of her passing.
Glee was not disturbed so much by the casket, or the memories of his mother's dying words, as by the line of sympathizers who now filed past the children. The men patted his black hat, the women hid their red faces behind handkerchiefs and clutched his shoulder, the children just stared through frightened eyes. No one said anything. He could not understand why they acted to strangely.
Glee watched as they left on buggies and wagons, on horses, on foot. They disappeared over the rise as they made their way back to the hollows and hills where they lived. Soon only the children and the Cooper grandparents remained. It was quiet, except for the muffled ringing of the shovels as the men finished their work.
Then he heard the quiet whisper of the wind through the spring leaves of the oak tree beside the grave. Grandma heard it too, because she recalled out loud how May had played beneath its branches as a child. All the children had played there during recess as the Rocky Comfort School.
But no child ever played there again.
∼Wife of Ted Funk
Gravette News-Herald
Gravette, AR
April 21, 1922
FUNK, Mary Cooper – {from Hiwasse} Mrs. Mary Cooper Funk died at the home of her parents northeast of town and was buried in the family plot.
The Weekly Vista February 28, 1990
A place in Bella Vista's history
Where May Funk rests
David Cox – Weekly Vista Reporter
It was in April, a cold, windy day when she was buried. Her five children – four boys and girl – stood at the edge of the deep grave, none hearing the words of the preacher as he read from Ecclesiastes.
A crowd of 50 or 60 had gathered there, including all who dwelled within reasonable travel distance. Most were her relatives or those of her husband.
But he was not there.
The baby wriggled playfully in his sister Leona's arms. She began sobbing again, just as she had inside the Rocky Comfort Schoolhouse during the funeral. Grandmother Cooper lifted the infant from her arms and whispered, "Be quite!"
She tried. But when the men with the long-handled spades began shoveling dirt onto the lid of the casket, she could hold it no longer. Hot tears stung her cheeks as she glared angrily at the men, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
Preston and Otto, her mother's brothers, had built the box from yellow pine wood. Grandma Cooper had lined the inside of it with a hand-embroidered comforter, and her mother's head rested on an embroidered pillowcase.
"Why are you crying?" asked three-year-old Glee, tugging at her jacket. Leona did not answer, but looked at her brothers one by one. She feared she could not care for them all. She feared even more they would be separated, because neither she nor her grandparents could manage all four.
Leona was only 13. But for the past four years she had been as much a mother to her brothers as had anyone.
Four years. May Funk finished dying in 1922 at the age of 35, but the process had been slow. She contracted tuberculosis about the time she and her husband, Melvin Theodore "Ted" Funk, moved to Montana. He worked for the Great Northern Railroad, and during the last years of her life she made the rail journey five times back to her northwest Arkansas home.
Alva May Funk was a frail woman even before she became ill. Small-boned and delicate, she had fair skin and wispy, reddish blonde hair – such a contrast from her dark, broad chested husband. And their backgrounds contrasted as much as their physical descriptions.
He was a Funk. His father, Hiram F. Funk, had homesteaded in Gordon's Hollow. By area standards he was a wealthy man, and his land holdings and cattle herd made his the largest ranch for miles. Hiram was a shrewd trader, unencumbered with religious convictions.
Not many miles away was Happy Hollow, undoubtedly named by an optimist whose vision for the place was never realized. The Coopers were poor, dwelling in a three-room cabin beside a spring. They were devoutly Catholic, holding to the mystical traditions of their Irish ancestors, despite the absence of a Catholic church near home. They worshipped, along with most everyone else, with the non-denominational congregation that gathered at the schoolhouse. May, who is said to have had a beautiful voice, sang in the choir.
The Coopers had little regard for irreligious persons, especially if they were wealthy … especially if they were Funks. Their resentment was so bitter they literally chased Ted from their cabin the first time he came calling.
After Ted and May married, they managed to keep at least a façade of peace between the clans. Then the children came, and the grandparents fought maliciously for their affection.
Perhaps that is why Ted and May left for Montana. There they were no longer a mismatched couple, carrying with them the baggage of a second generation feud; they were just a young family trying to build a home for themselves.
TB ended the dream with bitter irony. Now Ted's absence at the funeral only reinforced the Cooper's view that he was unworthy of May. They did not realize he was at the moment preparing to return to her side, yet unaware of her passing.
Glee was not disturbed so much by the casket, or the memories of his mother's dying words, as by the line of sympathizers who now filed past the children. The men patted his black hat, the women hid their red faces behind handkerchiefs and clutched his shoulder, the children just stared through frightened eyes. No one said anything. He could not understand why they acted to strangely.
Glee watched as they left on buggies and wagons, on horses, on foot. They disappeared over the rise as they made their way back to the hollows and hills where they lived. Soon only the children and the Cooper grandparents remained. It was quiet, except for the muffled ringing of the shovels as the men finished their work.
Then he heard the quiet whisper of the wind through the spring leaves of the oak tree beside the grave. Grandma heard it too, because she recalled out loud how May had played beneath its branches as a child. All the children had played there during recess as the Rocky Comfort School.
But no child ever played there again.
∼Wife of Ted Funk
Gravette, AR
April 21, 1922
FUNK, Mary Cooper – {from Hiwasse} Mrs. Mary Cooper Funk died at the home of her parents northeast of town and was buried in the family plot.
The Weekly Vista February 28, 1990
A place in Bella Vista's history
Where May Funk rests
David Cox – Weekly Vista Reporter
It was in April, a cold, windy day when she was buried. Her five children – four boys and girl – stood at the edge of the deep grave, none hearing the words of the preacher as he read from Ecclesiastes.
A crowd of 50 or 60 had gathered there, including all who dwelled within reasonable travel distance. Most were her relatives or those of her husband.
But he was not there.
The baby wriggled playfully in his sister Leona's arms. She began sobbing again, just as she had inside the Rocky Comfort Schoolhouse during the funeral. Grandmother Cooper lifted the infant from her arms and whispered, "Be quite!"
She tried. But when the men with the long-handled spades began shoveling dirt onto the lid of the casket, she could hold it no longer. Hot tears stung her cheeks as she glared angrily at the men, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
Preston and Otto, her mother's brothers, had built the box from yellow pine wood. Grandma Cooper had lined the inside of it with a hand-embroidered comforter, and her mother's head rested on an embroidered pillowcase.
"Why are you crying?" asked three-year-old Glee, tugging at her jacket. Leona did not answer, but looked at her brothers one by one. She feared she could not care for them all. She feared even more they would be separated, because neither she nor her grandparents could manage all four.
Leona was only 13. But for the past four years she had been as much a mother to her brothers as had anyone.
Four years. May Funk finished dying in 1922 at the age of 35, but the process had been slow. She contracted tuberculosis about the time she and her husband, Melvin Theodore "Ted" Funk, moved to Montana. He worked for the Great Northern Railroad, and during the last years of her life she made the rail journey five times back to her northwest Arkansas home.
Alva May Funk was a frail woman even before she became ill. Small-boned and delicate, she had fair skin and wispy, reddish blonde hair – such a contrast from her dark, broad chested husband. And their backgrounds contrasted as much as their physical descriptions.
He was a Funk. His father, Hiram F. Funk, had homesteaded in Gordon's Hollow. By area standards he was a wealthy man, and his land holdings and cattle herd made his the largest ranch for miles. Hiram was a shrewd trader, unencumbered with religious convictions.
Not many miles away was Happy Hollow, undoubtedly named by an optimist whose vision for the place was never realized. The Coopers were poor, dwelling in a three-room cabin beside a spring. They were devoutly Catholic, holding to the mystical traditions of their Irish ancestors, despite the absence of a Catholic church near home. They worshipped, along with most everyone else, with the non-denominational congregation that gathered at the schoolhouse. May, who is said to have had a beautiful voice, sang in the choir.
The Coopers had little regard for irreligious persons, especially if they were wealthy … especially if they were Funks. Their resentment was so bitter they literally chased Ted from their cabin the first time he came calling.
After Ted and May married, they managed to keep at least a façade of peace between the clans. Then the children came, and the grandparents fought maliciously for their affection.
Perhaps that is why Ted and May left for Montana. There they were no longer a mismatched couple, carrying with them the baggage of a second generation feud; they were just a young family trying to build a home for themselves.
TB ended the dream with bitter irony. Now Ted's absence at the funeral only reinforced the Cooper's view that he was unworthy of May. They did not realize he was at the moment preparing to return to her side, yet unaware of her passing.
Glee was not disturbed so much by the casket, or the memories of his mother's dying words, as by the line of sympathizers who now filed past the children. The men patted his black hat, the women hid their red faces behind handkerchiefs and clutched his shoulder, the children just stared through frightened eyes. No one said anything. He could not understand why they acted to strangely.
Glee watched as they left on buggies and wagons, on horses, on foot. They disappeared over the rise as they made their way back to the hollows and hills where they lived. Soon only the children and the Cooper grandparents remained. It was quiet, except for the muffled ringing of the shovels as the men finished their work.
Then he heard the quiet whisper of the wind through the spring leaves of the oak tree beside the grave. Grandma heard it too, because she recalled out loud how May had played beneath its branches as a child. All the children had played there during recess as the Rocky Comfort School.
But no child ever played there again.
∼Wife of Ted Funk
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