She was one of a family of 12 children: seven sons and five daughters, of whom three were her half-brothers and one a half-sister. Of this numerous family, there survive one brother, Joseph Adams, and a sister, Mrs.
Elizabeth Hoagland, both of Morgantown, Indiana, and a half-sister, Mrs. Rebecca McNaught, of Marion, Kansas.
The deceased was united in marriage on February 15, 1866 to Benton T. Lang, the aged companion who still survives her, a veteran of the Civil War now in his 81st year, and to him our hearts go out in sympathy and affection in this time of loneliness and bereavement.
To this happy union were born nine children: two sons and seven daughters, of whom the following survive their mother, W. H. Lang, and John Lang, both of Morgantown, Mrs. Nancy E. Vandivier of Terre Haute, Mrs. Clara Boles of Martinsville, and Mrs. Flora Boles of Franklin. Two daughters died in infancy, one daughter, Iona, passed away at the age of 15, and a fourth daughter, Mrs. Kate Collett, followed her three sisters into the beyond, leaving an infant son, Gale who still survives.
All of Mrs. Lang's married life was spent on the country homestead near Morgantown, where she passed away in the comfortable dwelling which the happy couple had erected and furnished some years before their marriage.
Besides rearing her own family of children, Mrs. Lang took Orpha, the motherless daughter of her son, Henry, when only three days old, and reared her as her own child until she attained to womanhood and was united in marriage to Arnold Collett.
Nine weeks before her death, on December 10, 1923, Mrs. Lang fell and broke her hip bone, and from this serious and painful accident she never recovered. She bore her suffering and affliction with remarkable fortitude and patience, and as the end approached the words and melodies of familiar hymns which she loved, "The Home Over There," and "Beautiful Isle of Somewhere" seemed to give her comfort and consolation as they came into her mind.
She was a faithful and devoted wife and mother, industrious, thrifty, sympathetic, and kind, a good homekeeper and a splendid neighbor. She loved her home, her family and friends, and loved to attend church services when her health and home duties would permit.
She leaves behind to mourn her loss a bereaved companion, five children, two sons and three daughters, a brother, sister and half-sister, 10 grand children, eight great grand children and many other relatives and friends.
A useful and happy life has reached its earthly end, and the spirit that animated the frail tenement of clay has drifted out on the boundless tide of eternity.
With calmness and courage she faced the great change, even as did the poet Tennyson who near the end of his earthly life penned the beautiful and inspiring lines:
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark,
And may there be no moaning of farewell,
When I embark.
For though from out our bourne of time and place,
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to meet my Pilot face to face,
When I have crossed the bar.
Note: The above was transcribed from the booklet distributed at Amanda Jane Adams-Lang's funeral.
She was one of a family of 12 children: seven sons and five daughters, of whom three were her half-brothers and one a half-sister. Of this numerous family, there survive one brother, Joseph Adams, and a sister, Mrs.
Elizabeth Hoagland, both of Morgantown, Indiana, and a half-sister, Mrs. Rebecca McNaught, of Marion, Kansas.
The deceased was united in marriage on February 15, 1866 to Benton T. Lang, the aged companion who still survives her, a veteran of the Civil War now in his 81st year, and to him our hearts go out in sympathy and affection in this time of loneliness and bereavement.
To this happy union were born nine children: two sons and seven daughters, of whom the following survive their mother, W. H. Lang, and John Lang, both of Morgantown, Mrs. Nancy E. Vandivier of Terre Haute, Mrs. Clara Boles of Martinsville, and Mrs. Flora Boles of Franklin. Two daughters died in infancy, one daughter, Iona, passed away at the age of 15, and a fourth daughter, Mrs. Kate Collett, followed her three sisters into the beyond, leaving an infant son, Gale who still survives.
All of Mrs. Lang's married life was spent on the country homestead near Morgantown, where she passed away in the comfortable dwelling which the happy couple had erected and furnished some years before their marriage.
Besides rearing her own family of children, Mrs. Lang took Orpha, the motherless daughter of her son, Henry, when only three days old, and reared her as her own child until she attained to womanhood and was united in marriage to Arnold Collett.
Nine weeks before her death, on December 10, 1923, Mrs. Lang fell and broke her hip bone, and from this serious and painful accident she never recovered. She bore her suffering and affliction with remarkable fortitude and patience, and as the end approached the words and melodies of familiar hymns which she loved, "The Home Over There," and "Beautiful Isle of Somewhere" seemed to give her comfort and consolation as they came into her mind.
She was a faithful and devoted wife and mother, industrious, thrifty, sympathetic, and kind, a good homekeeper and a splendid neighbor. She loved her home, her family and friends, and loved to attend church services when her health and home duties would permit.
She leaves behind to mourn her loss a bereaved companion, five children, two sons and three daughters, a brother, sister and half-sister, 10 grand children, eight great grand children and many other relatives and friends.
A useful and happy life has reached its earthly end, and the spirit that animated the frail tenement of clay has drifted out on the boundless tide of eternity.
With calmness and courage she faced the great change, even as did the poet Tennyson who near the end of his earthly life penned the beautiful and inspiring lines:
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark,
And may there be no moaning of farewell,
When I embark.
For though from out our bourne of time and place,
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to meet my Pilot face to face,
When I have crossed the bar.
Note: The above was transcribed from the booklet distributed at Amanda Jane Adams-Lang's funeral.
Family Members
Sponsored by Ancestry
Advertisement
Advertisement