Jennison, Charles H. 1834 - 1917

JENNISON, BENNETT

Posted By: Janice Sowers (email)
Date: 12/23/2006 at 12:44:25

From the Scrapbook of Newspaper Articles by Mrs. Lillian Wheeler

CHARLES H. JENNISON
1834-1917

"When our work is done 'tis best
Brother, best that we should go
I am weary, let me rest
I am weary, let me go."

He passed away as gently as he had lived, his loved ones, who had ministered to his every wish throughtout his sickness, were all at his bedside.

The line that separates the quick from the dead is a variant one, and no one can say just where it lies, or when it will become most piognantly apparent. We all know this, we have all thought of it, and yet there is pain and shock and suddenness always when the sorrowful words, "Father is no more." are spoken.

Charles H. Jennison was born at Swanton, Vermont. If he had lived till November the fifth, he age would have been four score and three years, far more than man's alloted life.

"So when a good man dies
For years beyond our ken
The light he leaves behind him lies
Upon the paths of men."

He was educated in the public schools of his native town. Soon after finishing school the call of the west took him by easy stages and stops to the land of promise--Iowa--arriving some time before the great land sale of 1857. He bought a quarter section of land in Oakdale township, where all these beneficent years of sunshine and shadow were spent. And this farm is still the dear old homestead.

Soon after this he returned to his native town, Swanton, where in 1860, he was married to Miss Sarah Alice Bennett. In 1862 they started, with their young son, S. G. Jennison, for their home in Iowa, the dearest place on earth to them,and where their daughters were born--Jessie, Sarah, Ruth, Lucy, Alma and Florence, and where all grew to manhood and womanhood, and all, (except Jessie who died four years ago), were able to be with him through his last sickness.

Through all the hardships of pioneer life he maintained his cheerful disposition. He was always kind, appreciative and sympathetic. His home life was exceptionally happy. He was a most loyal devoted and affectionate husband and father, domestic in his tastes and hospitable in his home, and never so happy as when his family and friends were gathered about him.

His great sorrow came when his devoted wife died Feb. 16, 1917, "and he could not be comforted." Since this time his daughter Florence has been untiring in her efforts to make life worth living.

So this noble soul has passed on to join the "choir invisible." His six children with their families are left to mourn the loss of a gracious, loving father and grandfather, to whom they never appealed in vain, an only sister, who will sadly miss his dear counsel and thoughtful kindness, besides numerous relatives, friends and acquaintances who loved him and to whom he seemed a necessity. How he will be missed!

With his ear attuned to the misic of the Infinite, he caught up the celestial strain so beautifully expressed by Tennyson:

"Sunset and evening star
And one clear call for me
And may there be no moaning of the bar
When I put out to sea
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar."

The funeral service was held from the home to the Baptist church Monday afternoon conducted by the pastor, Rev. E. Bodenham, and the body laid beside his departed wife in the Wayne cemetery near the old farm home.