Silas Enoch Thompson (1929)

THOMPSON, HIGHTOWER

Posted By: Pat Hochstetler
Date: 12/16/2014 at 07:44:55

Earlham Echo
Earlham, Iowa
Thursday, February 7, 1929

Day before yesterday one, whom we and a great many others know altogether favorably, began the last lap of a long journey—one that he had entered upon in the flesh in Orange County, Indiana, many years ago.

That was when led by the hand of one of God’s messengers, he had come out of the Unknown and was left, as a little child, in the good home of a pious Quaker family, made ready by Divine providence to receive him. He did not speak their language, but they understood and loved the little traveler and called him Silas—Silas Enoch Thompson.

Enoch! Ah! Yes. They recalled the name of that man of God of whom they had read. And this traveler, whose unshod feet had crossed their threshold, should have the inspiration of an exceptionally worthy man to guide him on that part of his journey which lay through this world. So his name should be that of the man who had “walked with God,” in the dim ages of the world’s history. Wise parents, they were.

He came to tarry with them March 22, 1853—almost 76 years ago. They remembered the time well, for he was the sixth little traveler that the messenger of God had left under their welcoming roof, and three others were to follow. So it was a large company of wayfarers on life’s journey who abode there. Father, mother and nine children.

But they have all taken their final departure, save one brother and one sister, the former now living in Oklahoma, and the latter in Indiana.

When Silas went away, he not only left these behind, but also his wife—who had been Miss Clara Hightower—and their son Ralph and his wife and their two sons, besides nephews and nieces, and a host of friends. For everyone who knew Silas Thompson was his friend. The children all loved him than which there is no higher testimony to the worth of any man.

Since October 31, 1889 Silas Thompson and Clara Hightower had walked hand in hand along the pathway of life, rejoicing with each other in God’s sunshine and sorrowing together as well in God’s shad, for it was then that they were married—more than forty years ago—in Earlham, Iowa. Forty years of quiet, heart-satisfying enjoyment. Forty years of mutual, ideal love. For theirs, never was an immature affection. They had reached the estate of manhood and womanhood before they met and loved. And now the memory of these two score years of tender companionship is to remain to Clara Thompson to comfort and sustain her. Something for her that is beyond all price.

It is needless for those who knew him to be told that Silas Thompson was a good man. In his quiet, unassuming way, he was one of God’s noblemen. A Quaker by birthright, converted at the age of 29, he lived daily the life of a Christian. As such his example is worthy of emulation.

When, how as 33 he moved from Indiana and located in Earlham, Iowa, where he continued to live till he came to California almost five years ago, where he was privileged to spend four years among the happiest of his long and peaceful life. Then the tenement of clay, in which his fine soul had lived so long, began to show the ravages of disease. And then, little more than two days ago, in a quiet street in the suburban town of San Martino, California, on a calm day an hour before high twelve, God’s golden chariot swung low and one of His messengers, smilingly lifted the soul of Silas Thompson out of the house of clay—and they were gone. Gone, on the last part of the long journey. He went away just as he had always lived—peacefully.

At the last, no farewells were said. These had all been spoken before—tenderly, lovingly. It so happened when God’s messenger called for him with His chariot of gold, that Silas was alone in his room, ready and waiting to go. He had grown so weak that he could not go on, and in mercy the chariot of God came and carried his free soul to the Realms of the Blest. And while he is resting there, we are here in “The Little Church of the Flowers” to deal affectionately with the frail tenement in which his gentle spirit once lived.

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