Fred McGlothlen (1900)

MCGLOTHLEN

Posted By: Pat Hochstetler
Date: 5/30/2009 at 15:38:00

Winterset Reporter
Winterset, Iowa
Thursday, January 18, 1900
Page 7

Macksburg

Died, last Saturday, of consumption, Young McGlothlin, son of George McGlothlin. He was ill only a short time. Funeral was held at Wesley chapel on Sunday at 11 a.m., Rev. Dunn officiating.
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Winterset Reporter
Winterset, Iowa
Thursday, January 18, 1900
Page 7

Middle River

Fred McGlothlin died Friday with consumption and was buried Sunday in the Wright cemetery.

Note: Burial was made in the Wight cemetery.
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The Winterset News
Winterset, Iowa
Friday, January 26, 1900
Page 1, Column 2

Obituary

Fred McGlothlen was born Sept. 19th, 1883, and died Jan. 13th, 1900, near Macksburg, Iowa aged 16 years, 2 months and 24 days. Funeral services were held at Wesley M. E. Chapel in Webster township, Sunday, January 14th, at 11 o’clock, Rev. Dunn officiating, the interment being at the Wite cemetery.

Fred was the eldest of two sons of George and Emma McGlothlen. He passed peacefully and quietly away after having passed through the most intense suffering. He expressed an earnest desire to live, not, he said, for pleasure, but to help his parents and to educate himself and prepare for the realities of life. He had planned for a term of schooling next summer but gave it all up willingly though not without an effort, and was ready to go.

Fred had been a boy of good morals and high appreciation of honor and integrity, but had not given his heart to God until four4 days before he died when he was converted and was baptized at his own request. Henceforward he bore his suffering with even greater patience and fortitude than before, and in his quieter moments pleaded most earnestly with relatives and associates to lead better lives and to give their hearts to the Savior. When they would tell him they would do better in some time they would accept Christ, “no, no, not some time, now, now,” was his plea, and we doubt not that his influence over others will be as reaching as eternity thus we are again made to see that “long life is not in length of days” but in a few days well filled.

When the end was near he called all in the house to him to guess them, calling news by name, mother, father, aunt Cal, Anna, Etta, Charlie and so on to his attendance at even strangers. The writer knew him but five days but learn to love him like a son. Nearly his last words were, “I am in the arms of Jesus”. This is passed from our midst a most beautiful life. Truly death loves a shining mark. The stem is broken, the flower faded but the fragrance still remains. May we all need him in heaven as he so earnestly requested is the prayer of the writer. Fred C. Herron

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