Posted on: Jennings Co. In Biographies Reply Here: http://cgi.rootsweb.com/~genbbs//genbbs.cgi/USA/In/JenningsBios/101 Surname: Tweedy, Batchelor, Morris ------------------------- OBIT ~ ~ Venon Banner October 29, 1890 GEORGE B. TWEEDY, Was born on the 6th of Nov., 1862, and died on the morning of Oct. 20th, 1890, aged 27 years, 11 months, and 14 days, and was buried in the Vernon cemetery. Beneath the sod of the Vernon graveyard, There are those numbered with the dead, To severely make me think of a home In this solemn city of the dead. The voice of God is calling me, Beware! for, in the morning of life, You may reach an eternal home In this solemn city of the dead. Twice I have heard the curfew bell, Ringing me down the lonely lane, As the Divine power was spoken And my heard was sad and broken. One by one, we are falling; One by one, we are perishing; Yes! One by one, we pass >From life into death. And from this solemn city of the dead, Can the churchman only rise, To be with the Master in paradise? Oh, no! 'Tis of the soul never said. I never discovered in the mind or the heart of my dead brother, a desire to do evil. He, in the fresh morning of his life, has passed away without a blot or blemish of character. Two years ago in the State of Texas, the same dread disease bore him almost into the grave. His friends there watched him tenderly and, by the skill of two eminent physicians, his life was spared. Since that time and up to his death I oftentimes noticed the presentment that his days were numbered and were but few. I noticed how he so often enjoyed to talk with me about the future when we were alone. I learned that the continual prayer of his heart was to do right. He gave the cares of his life to none other as he gave them to me. His was a fixed purpose, his was a strong resolve and he could not be turned from the aim of his life. He moved steadily and firmly toward the mark he had fixed; he patiently endured, he nobly met the troubles of his life. Those who saw his face the last time on earth must have thought something of his suffering. The dread disease had wasted nearly every tissue of his body. He endured his sufferings for six weeks, without a murmer, without a word of complaint. He was resigned. On the morning before his death, he said softly, calmly and quietly, "I'm going to die, Ben, it's hard for us to sperate." These are the last words I ever heard from the lips of my brother and I saw nothing in his face, I saw nothing in his words to indicate anything but a happy future and on the following morning he passed gently and quietly into the sleep from which men never awake after he had taken the last look of love at his aged mother. His great soul was around and about us and we saw the intense burning of his love. My dear brother, I had to bid you farewell, but we will meet by and by beyond the river where you and Elmina dwell. Little did I think this last winter and spring when we so often talked together that before the snows fell again I would be writing such a sketch of a life and a death as this. George began life for himself at about the age of nineteen, beginning by selling books for Dickerson & Co., of Detroit. He afterward sold for the Anchor Publishing Co., of St. Louis, but having a distaste for this business he was about to abandon it for the farm. However, he drifted into canvassing for pictures to be copied and enlarged and prospering beyond his most sanguine expecations, he organized the Model Copying Co., of Indianapolis. You will find pictures enlarged by this company in any town of the South and hundreds of young men have been given employment. Whenever my brother saw a young man who suited the business and who had no means, he furnished the money, and in a number of cases took these young men to the store and clad them from head to foot, so that they would be in shape for business. Some of them succeeded and some did not. Soon the Model Copying Co., had agents everywhere and the profits of the business in a little while reach thousands each year, and my brother was earning a fortune. He was a complete master of his business. But the close work and hard toil undermined his constitution and after his sickness two years ago he was never able to push business with the usual strength and vim. I induced him to establish in connection with Judge Thomas C. Batchelor and John S. Morris, the Bank of Scott county at Scottsburgh. This business at the time of his death was prospering. He was intending, and probably did, organize a copying house in the city of Louisville, believing it to be a good point from which a very profitable business could be done, but alas, he can never realize his plans for he has fallen. I have met a heavy loss, I have lost a noble brother and this is the saddest bereavement of my life. I have sympathized with him in trouble and I have rejoiced with him in success. Many a time he has played with my little boy and fondled over my little baby girl and it made my heart glad. The glee of the baby and the pleasant smile of the brother can never again make that home happy where I dwell. What is death? BEN F. TWEEDY.