The following information provided by FAG contributor 48043220
also birth and death information.
Alice drowned while on a vacation in the town of Orienta, Wisconsin. Alice stepped into a deep hole of a shallow stream and perished before her companions realized her danger. Her body was returned to Hinckley, Minnesota for interment with funeral services at St. Patrick's Catholic church before being laid to rest at Rose Hill Cemetery.
- Information extracted from The Virginia Enterprise Newspaper dated August 2, 1907, page 12.
Poem in Article by her father:
To Alice.
Your playmates now all pass us by,
Our cottage looks deserted;
It seems as tho' you had to die-
It could not be averted.
How oft you've chased our dear Marie
Around the house, and caught her;
And then with Eileen, Ruth or Bess,
You've played the teeter-totter.
No more you'll dress our baby boy,
Nor play with brother Thomas;
Oh, God, why rob us of our joy;
Why take our Alice from us.
But comes the day - as comes it must-
When our Blessed Lord will call us;
And when we are consigned to dust
We'll sleep beside our Alice.
- J. H. Fleming
also birth and death information.
Alice drowned while on a vacation in the town of Orienta, Wisconsin. Alice stepped into a deep hole of a shallow stream and perished before her companions realized her danger. Her body was returned to Hinckley, Minnesota for interment with funeral services at St. Patrick's Catholic church before being laid to rest at Rose Hill Cemetery.
- Information extracted from The Virginia Enterprise Newspaper dated August 2, 1907, page 12.
Poem in Article by her father:
To Alice.
Your playmates now all pass us by,
Our cottage looks deserted;
It seems as tho' you had to die-
It could not be averted.
How oft you've chased our dear Marie
Around the house, and caught her;
And then with Eileen, Ruth or Bess,
You've played the teeter-totter.
No more you'll dress our baby boy,
Nor play with brother Thomas;
Oh, God, why rob us of our joy;
Why take our Alice from us.
But comes the day - as comes it must-
When our Blessed Lord will call us;
And when we are consigned to dust
We'll sleep beside our Alice.
- J. H. Fleming
The following information provided by FAG contributor 48043220
also birth and death information.
Alice drowned while on a vacation in the town of Orienta, Wisconsin. Alice stepped into a deep hole of a shallow stream and perished before her companions realized her danger. Her body was returned to Hinckley, Minnesota for interment with funeral services at St. Patrick's Catholic church before being laid to rest at Rose Hill Cemetery.
- Information extracted from The Virginia Enterprise Newspaper dated August 2, 1907, page 12.
Poem in Article by her father:
To Alice.
Your playmates now all pass us by,
Our cottage looks deserted;
It seems as tho' you had to die-
It could not be averted.
How oft you've chased our dear Marie
Around the house, and caught her;
And then with Eileen, Ruth or Bess,
You've played the teeter-totter.
No more you'll dress our baby boy,
Nor play with brother Thomas;
Oh, God, why rob us of our joy;
Why take our Alice from us.
But comes the day - as comes it must-
When our Blessed Lord will call us;
And when we are consigned to dust
We'll sleep beside our Alice.
- J. H. Fleming
also birth and death information.
Alice drowned while on a vacation in the town of Orienta, Wisconsin. Alice stepped into a deep hole of a shallow stream and perished before her companions realized her danger. Her body was returned to Hinckley, Minnesota for interment with funeral services at St. Patrick's Catholic church before being laid to rest at Rose Hill Cemetery.
- Information extracted from The Virginia Enterprise Newspaper dated August 2, 1907, page 12.
Poem in Article by her father:
To Alice.
Your playmates now all pass us by,
Our cottage looks deserted;
It seems as tho' you had to die-
It could not be averted.
How oft you've chased our dear Marie
Around the house, and caught her;
And then with Eileen, Ruth or Bess,
You've played the teeter-totter.
No more you'll dress our baby boy,
Nor play with brother Thomas;
Oh, God, why rob us of our joy;
Why take our Alice from us.
But comes the day - as comes it must-
When our Blessed Lord will call us;
And when we are consigned to dust
We'll sleep beside our Alice.
- J. H. Fleming
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