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Title: Obituaries Williamsport, IN. Warren Review - Thursday, October 22, 1896 Edition
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Simon Knaur, formerly of this county and well known in Prairie, died at his home in Texas, last week. Charles F. Steimle, the subject of this sketch, was born in Attica, Ind., March 6th, 1866, and died September 28th, 1896, at 8:15 o'clock of consumption, at his home in Rainsville, Ind. His age was 30 years, 6 months and 22 days. He was the son of Joseph and Francis Steimle. In the year of 1893 he became a resident of Rainsville, learning the blacksmith trade and was employed by the late Elof Nordstrum. He was married to Miss Anna Kate Mills, youngest daughter of John P. and Elizabeth A. Mills, November 23rd, 1892. He leaves to mourn his loss, a wife, mother, four sisters and brother, Mrs. Elof Nordstrum, Mrs. Henry Polk and Mr. Joseph Steimle of Attica, Ind., Mrs. Clint Culp of Danville, Ill., and Mrs. Benoit Bertrand living near Oxford, Ind., and a host of warm friends. He was an honored member of the I.O.O.F., the Encampment, and Woodmen of the World. Charlie has been a long and patient sufferer. He was taken sick in the spring of 1895. His physician at that time being Dr. Bernard of Rainsville and later Dr. Moorhouse of Danville, Ill. In September he and his wife went to the celebrated Berrin Springs, under the care of Dr. McOmber. From there he went to Laporte, his physician being Dr. Armstrong, the noted lund docter. He returned home, all thought much improved. He continued with Dr. Armstrong until July 1896 when he put himself under care of Dr. Swartz of Rainsville, who was Charlie's favorite physician. Dr. Swartz was very attentive and called often just as a friend of the family. Charlie watched eagerly for his coming and his face lighted up when he heard his step on the walk. The watchful care and skill of physician, the tender love and care of the good wife, yet all thses could not stay death's hand. The morning of the 28th, he seemed better and expressed himslef as better. He asked to be raised, then to lie down. He said, "O what shall I do." His mother said, "You are safe in the arms of Jesus." He gave his hand to the wife, looked at his mother, then at the wife and the spirit went to its God who gave it. What a pleasure to know Charlie was always so kind and patient in his home, through all his long suffering and sickness. His motto through life was ever the right. In the blacksmith shop, he was a general favorite. People came to him with great preference. He was of a genial, happy nature and none knew Charlie but to love and praise him. He was faithful, earnest member of the different lodges and always spoke of them with great praise and respect. He was a ready hand to those in need. To the dear ones at home, he was singularly affectionate and always spoke of the home folks as very dear to him. He was ever thoughtful of the comforts of others. Charlie was always kind and obliging and a favorite among one and all. He often talked of the better life, of that beautiful city where he longed to go. He believed in enjoying this life, yet always looked to the Father, to remember His ways, to be led by His hand, to live good and holy and that there was a better and brighter life. He had a great faith in prayer and the prayers of others. He repeated in his last moments a prayer in German, taught him by his mother in childhood and prayed for those around him. He loved life so well and tried so hard to battle the dreaded disease, which slowly, yet surely conquered all, yet he said if it is God's will, I am ready. Life to him held so much happiness and how sad to bid farewell to the loved of earth. The beautiful golden gate swung open, how noiseless, buthow sure, and the best of earth entered in. The kind mother and dear wife sit in darkness, which nothing can brighten, but the sunshine of God's holy love. We have watched with such loving, tender care, have ministered to every want, have held him with such loved strong arms, yet all too weak. When the Master called, the gate came ajar. Yet we are blind, we cannot see but catch the echo from that golden shore where so many loved and best of this earth waits our coming. Mother sits in the shadow looking towards the sunset of life, the sisters, brothers and many friends all mourn with a common grief; the wife, best loved of earth now walks alone this pathway of life with no strong arm between her and this great, round world. How tendered was the pillow smothered, but Charlie need no more the comforts of eart, for his pillow is the Savior's breast. How we miss the cheerful voice and wait in vain for the well-known footsteps. We reach out for the hand we clasp, but find only emptiness and grief. We silently search each room where the presence so dear was want to linger, but all in vain, we cling to the earthly. We think of the grave with terror, but let us think of it as a shelter and of the loved forms now resting in the gentle Savior's arms. Death brings to us grief so deep yet they tell us time in its flight heals all sorrow, yet we do not find it so. It may sleep for a while but it only slumbers to be awakened in all its fullness. Let us learn to say not my will but thine be done. Let us think of the best of earth as happy in that home of many mansions, as happy in that love as the love of here. We love to think now of that home where loved ones are gone. We have a deeper interest there where the best loved are there. We think with what joy they await our coming. There are faces radiant with the Savior's love, waiting at that beautiful golden gate so meet us there and the beckong hands, eyes that looked only love to us on earth, they are looking for us on that bright golden shore. There are tender voices that whispered come. Though the chair in the home is vacant and our hearts are bowed with bitter sorrow, our hands are empty and our tears fall like rain. George Cole, the subject of this sketch, was born April 8th, 1892 and died October 5, 1896. He was the son of Mr. and Mrs. Jerry Cole. His illness was of short duration, being caused by playfully putting his mouth over the spout of the steaming teakettle and inhaling the steam, destroying the mucus lining of the air passages. This happened Saturday Eve, Oct. 3, 1896. He was not thought to have been seriously injured until Sunday morning when S. R. Wilson, the family physician was called. He continued to grow worse until death released him. George had started to school the first of the term and was making rapid progress. His smiling face and sparkling eyes are missed from their accustomed place in school. His funeral was preached by Rev. John Dickson at the Jordan Church, after which was laid away to rest in the Jordan Cemetery.

Date: 10/22/1896
Origin: Warren Review extracted from microfilm
Author: Sharon Roberts
Record ID: 00003567
Type: Obituary
Source Archive: Williamsport-Washington Township Public Library
Date Entered: 4/29/2014
Entered By: Chris Brown

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