Obituaries - Beall
(daughter of RICHARD and SUSAN BEALL)
b. May 1846
d. September 1862
a. 16 yrs. 4 ms.
Clara is listed by Thomas and Williams (p. 727) as CLARENCE. We believe this is an error.
(son of NELSON and CAROLINE BEALL)
b. March 8, 1848
d. November 24, 1869
a. 21 yrs. 7 ms. 27 dys.
“In Memoriam. The death of a friend is one of the many sad milestones in life’s journey. To realize in all its fearful sadness that one whom we had known and loved and around whom our heart's purest affection had clustered, is gone; to know and feel that the tender chords have been snapped, ‘the golden bowl broken,’ and that nothing remains of the idol of our heart's fondest feelings save the still precious, but withering branches of memory, treasured up perhaps with sacred care and affection for the present, but doomed like all things earthly to canker and become destroyed by the corroding hand of Time—this is the saddest of human reflection and an important chapter in the history of human misery. At times perhaps the blow is mollified and stripped of some of its sharper asperities. The object of our love, mayhap, has attained the full period allotted to man's existence. The morning of life has passed, the meridional splendor of the noon-day has been enjoyed to its fullest fruition, evening has gathered its shadows quietly about him, and when the darkness of night sets in, we bid him adieu, knowing and feeling that he will awake in the enjoyment of a glorious sunlight of immortality. But when the arrow of the ‘unerring archer’ is sped at the shining fire-head of youth—when the loved one is just standing on the verge of usefulness, and looks back to gather from the encouraging smiles of those who have nurtured him in his helplessness the strength to sustain him in his grand, but perilous flight—and the blow is stricken and the loved one lies low, then indeed does the weakness of poor humanity become apparent and in our deep desolation we find ourselves railing at the inscrutable decrees of that Providence ‘who doeth all things well.’
These thoughts are suggested by the announcement of the sudden death of DENNIS BEALL, who died near Calvert [TX], on the 24th of November, 1869, in the twenty-second year of his age.
A stranger almost in our midst, with but little opportunity for cultivating the friendship of those among whom he had come to live, with a modesty of deportment and a retiring disposition that permitted him to thrust himself upon no one, or in any way to claim the attention of the popular ear, he yet, by his gentle manners and correctness of demeanor, instinctively won the hearts of all with whom he came in contact. ‘None knew him but to love him, none named him but to praise.’ Nor were his noble qualities those of the heart only. Possessed, as he was, of an ample competence, with doting family and friends to minister to his every want and pleasure, he could have eaten the bread of idleness, and passed his life in quietude and ease away from the world with its storms and contentions. But to such a nature as his, idleness was misery. To labor unceasingly and for the benefit of his fellow man, seemed the pleasure of his life, and whatever his hands found to do he did well. Such a man in any community, cannot escape observation. The discerning eye of the public is quick to discover and sure to reward; and the positions of trust and responsibility to which he was soon called, in his new home, attest in an unmistakable manner the public estimate of his character as a man and his usefulness as a citizen. A shining example in morals, an obedient son, a devoted brother—how true it is ‘death loves a shining mark.’ The loss of such a man can be viewed in no other light than as a public calamity. His place is vacant in the circle of his family and friends and the aching void can never be filled. Alas, how few can fill it even in the busy world.
The afflicting stroke is not wanting in circumstances to intensify its sadness. Loving kindred and friends from his distant home across the Potomac had recently traveled weary miles once again to be nearer him. Father and sister and brother, with hearts swelling with pent-up love, were waiting with outstretched arms to clasp him again in their fond embrace. Yet in the twinkling of an eye the house of joy changed into a house of mourning and the lightning's flash tells them in cruel tones ‘he will come no more.’ How agonizing the thoughts that even this poor boon was denied them; that the damp was wiped from his brow and his eyes closed in death by other hands, loving and kind ‘tis true, but not theirs.
As he sleeps his last sleep upon the bosom of his adopted mother, the hearts of our people go out with one accord, in sorrowing sympathy, to the bereaved father and brother and sister in our midst, and traversing space and distance, we mingle our tears with the agonized mother and brother who now weep in their desolate home in distant Maryland. May the chastening hand of Providence which has been laid so heavily upon them and us, serve to remind us all that we too have our time to die; and let us strive to emulate the example of our departed friend, so that when the grave closes over the last remains of our poor mortality, it may truthfully be said of us, as of him, ‘He did good upon the earth.’ —AMICUS” [ALLEGANIAN, 12-22-1869, p. 3 and
Anthony E. Crosby and Michael R. Olson
28 x 22 cms
Cemeteries, Maryland, Frostburg; Obituaries, Maryland, Frostburg. .
Frostburg (Md.), 1800-1972