,
son of John A. Blackwell (10.2.3.5) and Ruth Blackwell, and Grandson
of John Blackwell (10.2.3)
Born June 29, 1899. Died Saturday a.m. March 28, 1925.
Obituary written by his father, John A. Blackwell
Surely the universe must have a purpose and we grope in the dark when
we fail to find it. This is
the
way other men
felt long ago when a good woman broke open a
treasured alabaster box of costly
ointment and poured it on the
head of Jesus. Lacking the insight of
the woman they spoke as
hardheaded businessmen of mercenary spirit.
But there had been no
waste, the perfume could not
have been put to better use.
In
an hour like this, or when a cyclone passes over the country killing a
thousand persons in an hour,
or when a great
war leaves in a distant land where poppies grow a
million of our best. The heart has
just got to have its way, and speak
out frankly before it can consider
calmly. So men have spoken
more boldly than ever before they have spoken. They
have said, if a
factory manager destroyed his
product as fast as he made it, we would call him a failure. What are
we
to make of these things?
I
think we can ask these questions and still be reverent. Questions come
of thinking, thinking of
wonder, and wonder
from jarring experiences. Perhaps this is the only
way we can be made to think
enough. Given brains, we are warranted
in using them.
Well, the relief comes not in trying to shrink
the almighty to fit our
undeveloped ideas, but in
developing
our ideas as far as possible to the
measure of His.
We
are living in a world of cause and effect, and have not as yet learned
very much of how to live in it.
Men are living in
poverty and passing out prematurely through portals
of death, while at this very
moment
there may be untold wealth
directly under our feet. And in near by
fields the cures of
consumption, cancer,
and the prevention of insanity. So do not
lay this on God. The
world has done too
much of this already.
In the order of nature the old must pass on, but we can
not believe
that our God
ever meant for the young
to die. When they do it is our fault, fault of ignorance.
Scientists tell us that our world is one in which everything is under
going continual change, but nothing is
annihilated, and
can not be.
The dewdrop on the morning flower evaporates, and disappears from our
view,
but is not wasted. God is the
great economist, and wastes
nothing. But what of our young friend Anson? Let
us think of the life
proposition as a school.
One in which we are often pushed forward
faster than we always
go willingly. As the eagle stirreth up her
nest, compelling
her young to test, and prove and use their wings
so
are we urged forward to our development. The Bible says the body
without a soul is dead. But it does
not say that the spirit without a
body is dead, and we don't believe that it is. We are
safe in trusting
the
instinct of life beyond, which the world has always felt, and out
of which Bibles have been made. The
great teacher, Jesus uttered the
words most trusted among us, In my Father's house are many mansions,
if it were not
so I would have told you. They were on the right
track, and He did not disturb them
in it.
Far
away by the western sea, lies sunny California. Men look toward it
longingly and toil and save for years
that they may
visit that golden land. Now, suppose it were your happy
lot to realize a long treasured dream
of that journey, and your
friends wept as they said good bye. Would it
be fitting? Let us not do this today,
but waving a gallant farewell to Anson,
Cry bon voyage, bon voyage.
Wherefore, comfort ye one another
with these words.
................ Written by John A. Blackwell,
his father.
|
John Blackwell 1775
|
