Allen, John -- 1846 - 1928

ALLEN, WELCH, DARRINGTON, REED, NOECKER, JOHNSON, TABOR, REED

Posted By: Barry M. Dahl (email)
Date: 11/30/2010 at 13:46:03

John Allen was born in Grafham England, June 6th, 1846, died Jan. 2nd, 1928. He was married to Susan Darrington in 1865. He came to the United States in 1874, locating near Hesper, Iowa. Eleven children were born to this union, three having died in infancy. The wife and mother preceded him in death Sept. 5th, 1909.

He became a member of the Episcopal church when very young, but since coming to his country has been an attending of both the M.E. and Friends churches and took great pleasure in being able to attend.

Eight children are left to cherish his memory, namely Mrs. Anna Tabor, Sebastapol, Calif.; Mrs. Amy Reed, Austin, Minn.; Mrs. Esther Johnson, Boulder, Colorado; Mrs. Grace Noecker, Thomas and Fred of this vicinity. He also leaves 25 grandchildren and great-grandchildren and host of friends who will remember him as "Uncle John". His death was due to infirmities of age. Since the death of his wife he has made his home with his son-in-law and daughter, Mr. and Mrs. D.J.Welch, they having done all that loving hands could do to make a home for him of comfort and ease, but he ever mourned the departure of his life companion and death came as a relief. It was a great comfort to him to have his children at his bedside in his last sickness and he will ever remain in their memory.

The funeral took place at the home of his son-in-law and daughter, Mr. and Mrs. D.J. Welch Wednesday, Jan. 4, 1928 at 12 o'clock and from the Friends church at Hesper, the remains laid to rest in the Hesper cemetery.

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.
But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound or foam.
When that which drew from out the boundless deep, Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark,
And may there be no sadness of farewell. When I embark.
For though from out are 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.

From the Jenny Welch collection.