NORMAN, Millard - Putnam

Source: Greencastle Star Press 6 Jan 1894 p 3

Gone, yet ever with us. The gem of infinite memories has passed from his earthly state. Born, raised, lived and died a Christian, the helpmate of purity, “He that is holy let him be holy still,” and now the Reeder’s will has called him to his eternal mansion a place prepared for him. The hoe, pick, shovel and plow that were kept so bright by the hardy hands of toil will soon be encased in moth. They will rust, and ere long mother earth will claim her own; but the spirit which directed those hands has laid up “treasure in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt.” His eyes have seen the sin and iniquity; his manly virtues have antagonized “sorecerers,” and whosoever loveth and “maketh a life.” All is pure and hoiy where he now resides.  Thieves do not break through nor steal.  Why do I know this? Because Christ says, “Whosoever believeth in me shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” We are all mortals and therefore must have some impurity, but those who take Christ as their model of perfection, those who steer “life’s bark” towards the shore of eternal bliss, those who practice what they preach and those who do not only hear but hear and do what is right to the best of their ability shall be, and are, when God shall call them home pure and white as snow.”

“Uncle George” Norman, the general appellation given him, our grandpa, was stern and rigid against those things which he thought to be wrong. He was educated in the Democratic faith and throughout his home life turned neither to the right or left, but with pure convictions was the nucleus of a vast circle of friends irrespective of faith or creed. And this, after all, is what makes the man; decide upon a course and carve it out. How indefinitely superior is the man who without blush or stammer can boldly face humanity and God, and state his rules of action, in comparison with the man who like the blade of grass will bend with the first rustle of an adverse wind.  Christ is all his angels, in repugnant against such rules of action. “Woe unto ye hypocrites,” and woe unto the men who follow the maxim: If you are in Rome do as Romans such are hated by man and condemned by God. Better it is 10,k000 times to follow the maxim of that earnest and straightforward man, David Crocket: “Be sure you are right, then go ahead. Such men are the origin of a great good., They have the love of fellow creatures, and above all, the eternal, ever enduring love of “Him who died that we might live.”  He decided to the best of his judgment then executed. He was social, charitable and ever trying to help a relative, friend or neighbor. No man ever did more for a loving wife, children, grand and great grandchildren to make them happy.  And what a blessing it is to say this.  No one better than the members of this family could in truthfulness and in all sincerity say, “Home sweet home.” While it is true that our grandfather had no classical education, he represented a proof of Bacon’s maxim, “Reading maketh a full man,” always posted on current news, had a superior retention of memory and speech that could elucidate fluently his thought. He leaves a numerous progeny, all of which I hope are accepting his standard of perfection. We should know the fruit of the tree and likewise the tree by its fruits.  Like producers like, and God help us, the fruit to be worthy of the tree.

Let me not inflame the bereaved and tender hearts which so greatly mourn the one who has gone before. He has gone to his eternal habitation. He has ‘passed over the river,” and is resting in the shade of the tree.  He has run the race, he has fought his earthly battle; he has finished his course. Henceforth he shall sail on the pacific of God’s love.  Well do I remember the last words he spoke to me on that autumn morn. Grasping my hand before my departure, with a paternal grasp and tears in his eyes, said: “Millard, be a good boy.”  What better mandate could he have given me? It is the great injunction of christianity.

O time and change … although his hair was gray
When last I saw him on that fall day,
How strange it seems with body gone

That his life and life will ever live on.
Ah mother! Ah sister and brothers! Ah grandma!
Ah aunts and uncles.
Let us in loving kindness console each other,
For his kind words his emblematic brow
Cannot meet around the family circle now
Grandpa’s dear face whereup
From back and forestich the blaze has brightly shown
Henceforward, listen as we will
His, the voice of that heart, is still
Look where we will the wide world o’er
His incarnate face we see no more
We may tread the path that he has worn<
We may sit beneath his roof and think, Ah, well
This place, these things within themselves a volume tell
We may view, like him, the orchard trees

We may hear, like him, the hum of bees

And rustle of the bladed corn
We may turn the leaves that he has read,
His spoken words we ponder o’er
But in the sun they cast no shade
No voice is heard, no sign is made
No step familiar is on the floor
Yet love will linger, and faith will trust
Since he who knows our needs is just
That somehow somewhere meet we must
Alas for him who never sees
The stars shine through his mental trees
How sweet to know those who follow Christs’ commands
As did our grandpa, pure, good and grand<
Shall in the last with Him and angels stand
Who has not learned in hours of faith
The truth of flesh, and sense unknown,
That life is ever lord of Death
And Love can never lose its own!”