The Cambridge City (IN) Tribune, Thursday, February 19, 1914
"The remains of George McNamara, age 46 years, were brought here from Walsenburg, Colorado, for burial and were taken to the home of his brother, Frank McNamara. His death was caused by a load of feed upsetting and crushing his side while at work on a farm. Burial at Riverside Wednesday morning."
Thursday, February 26, 1914
"George Washington McNamara, son of John and Parthena McNamara, was born near Cambridge City,August 18, 1867. He spent his early life in this city, then going to Indianapolis where he remained until nine months ago when he sold his home and moved to Colorado where he met his death. While hauling feed he met with a fatal accident, his right side being crushed. He was injured of the 12th of February at 6 p.m., was conscious to the last, passing away at 10 p.m. Owing to the severe shock and great strain, his wife Sarah, was compelled to give up the journey home with him and had to leave the train in an invalid chair and be put in care of two nurses. Besides a loving wife who did every thing that kind hands could do, he leaves his mother, Mrs. John McNamara, three sisters and and one brother, Mrs. A. J. Powell, Mrs. F. W. Rinehart, Indianapolis, Mrs. W. L. Housekeeper, of Chicago, and Frank McNamara, of this city, and many other relatives by whom he will be sadly missed. He always had a smile of welcome for each and all.
And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath
Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friend,
And that sometimes the sable pall of death
Conceals the fairest boon his love can send.
If we could push ajar the gates of life
And stand within, and all God's workings see,
We would interpret all this doubt and strife,
And for each mystery could find a key.
But not today. Then be content poor heart;
God's plans like lilies pure and white unfold;
We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart;
Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.
And if through patient toil we reach the land
Where tired feet with sandals loosed may rest.
When we shall clearly see and understand.,
I think that we shall say, 'God knew the best.
The funeral services were held at the home of his brother, Frank McNamara, February 17, conducted by Rev. Hollopeter. Burial in Riverside."
"The remains of George McNamara, age 46 years, were brought here from Walsenburg, Colorado, for burial and were taken to the home of his brother, Frank McNamara. His death was caused by a load of feed upsetting and crushing his side while at work on a farm. Burial at Riverside Wednesday morning."
Thursday, February 26, 1914
"George Washington McNamara, son of John and Parthena McNamara, was born near Cambridge City,August 18, 1867. He spent his early life in this city, then going to Indianapolis where he remained until nine months ago when he sold his home and moved to Colorado where he met his death. While hauling feed he met with a fatal accident, his right side being crushed. He was injured of the 12th of February at 6 p.m., was conscious to the last, passing away at 10 p.m. Owing to the severe shock and great strain, his wife Sarah, was compelled to give up the journey home with him and had to leave the train in an invalid chair and be put in care of two nurses. Besides a loving wife who did every thing that kind hands could do, he leaves his mother, Mrs. John McNamara, three sisters and and one brother, Mrs. A. J. Powell, Mrs. F. W. Rinehart, Indianapolis, Mrs. W. L. Housekeeper, of Chicago, and Frank McNamara, of this city, and many other relatives by whom he will be sadly missed. He always had a smile of welcome for each and all.
And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath
Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friend,
And that sometimes the sable pall of death
Conceals the fairest boon his love can send.
If we could push ajar the gates of life
And stand within, and all God's workings see,
We would interpret all this doubt and strife,
And for each mystery could find a key.
But not today. Then be content poor heart;
God's plans like lilies pure and white unfold;
We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart;
Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.
And if through patient toil we reach the land
Where tired feet with sandals loosed may rest.
When we shall clearly see and understand.,
I think that we shall say, 'God knew the best.
The funeral services were held at the home of his brother, Frank McNamara, February 17, conducted by Rev. Hollopeter. Burial in Riverside."
The Cambridge City (IN) Tribune, Thursday, February 19, 1914
"The remains of George McNamara, age 46 years, were brought here from Walsenburg, Colorado, for burial and were taken to the home of his brother, Frank McNamara. His death was caused by a load of feed upsetting and crushing his side while at work on a farm. Burial at Riverside Wednesday morning."
Thursday, February 26, 1914
"George Washington McNamara, son of John and Parthena McNamara, was born near Cambridge City,August 18, 1867. He spent his early life in this city, then going to Indianapolis where he remained until nine months ago when he sold his home and moved to Colorado where he met his death. While hauling feed he met with a fatal accident, his right side being crushed. He was injured of the 12th of February at 6 p.m., was conscious to the last, passing away at 10 p.m. Owing to the severe shock and great strain, his wife Sarah, was compelled to give up the journey home with him and had to leave the train in an invalid chair and be put in care of two nurses. Besides a loving wife who did every thing that kind hands could do, he leaves his mother, Mrs. John McNamara, three sisters and and one brother, Mrs. A. J. Powell, Mrs. F. W. Rinehart, Indianapolis, Mrs. W. L. Housekeeper, of Chicago, and Frank McNamara, of this city, and many other relatives by whom he will be sadly missed. He always had a smile of welcome for each and all.
And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath
Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friend,
And that sometimes the sable pall of death
Conceals the fairest boon his love can send.
If we could push ajar the gates of life
And stand within, and all God's workings see,
We would interpret all this doubt and strife,
And for each mystery could find a key.
But not today. Then be content poor heart;
God's plans like lilies pure and white unfold;
We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart;
Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.
And if through patient toil we reach the land
Where tired feet with sandals loosed may rest.
When we shall clearly see and understand.,
I think that we shall say, 'God knew the best.
The funeral services were held at the home of his brother, Frank McNamara, February 17, conducted by Rev. Hollopeter. Burial in Riverside."
"The remains of George McNamara, age 46 years, were brought here from Walsenburg, Colorado, for burial and were taken to the home of his brother, Frank McNamara. His death was caused by a load of feed upsetting and crushing his side while at work on a farm. Burial at Riverside Wednesday morning."
Thursday, February 26, 1914
"George Washington McNamara, son of John and Parthena McNamara, was born near Cambridge City,August 18, 1867. He spent his early life in this city, then going to Indianapolis where he remained until nine months ago when he sold his home and moved to Colorado where he met his death. While hauling feed he met with a fatal accident, his right side being crushed. He was injured of the 12th of February at 6 p.m., was conscious to the last, passing away at 10 p.m. Owing to the severe shock and great strain, his wife Sarah, was compelled to give up the journey home with him and had to leave the train in an invalid chair and be put in care of two nurses. Besides a loving wife who did every thing that kind hands could do, he leaves his mother, Mrs. John McNamara, three sisters and and one brother, Mrs. A. J. Powell, Mrs. F. W. Rinehart, Indianapolis, Mrs. W. L. Housekeeper, of Chicago, and Frank McNamara, of this city, and many other relatives by whom he will be sadly missed. He always had a smile of welcome for each and all.
And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath
Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friend,
And that sometimes the sable pall of death
Conceals the fairest boon his love can send.
If we could push ajar the gates of life
And stand within, and all God's workings see,
We would interpret all this doubt and strife,
And for each mystery could find a key.
But not today. Then be content poor heart;
God's plans like lilies pure and white unfold;
We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart;
Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.
And if through patient toil we reach the land
Where tired feet with sandals loosed may rest.
When we shall clearly see and understand.,
I think that we shall say, 'God knew the best.
The funeral services were held at the home of his brother, Frank McNamara, February 17, conducted by Rev. Hollopeter. Burial in Riverside."
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