Charles Harrison Moores
The Funeral
by Zella Hargrove Gaither, about 1906"The Lord hath given and the Lord hath taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord." "All things are dark to Sorrow."
As the afternoon drew on, the clouds gathered, even after the fashion of April weather, tho this was the thirteenth of June. The sun shone with the sultry heat of mid-summer. The hour came on apace, when the loved face would be hid away under the sod, after the last word of funeral condolence should be uttered.
Because the lamented one has always found a soothing rest, under the shade of the friendly hickory tree, spreading its boughs after the fashion of the umbrella-china tree, in the yard the funeral service was to be held there; also, because the house was too small for the crowd of admiring and grieving friends.
Here, under this tree the children had played upon the grass; had enjoyed the swing or the hammock, or sat in loving, playful groups, chatting, or studing the hours away. The majestic tree, with its protecting arms, and fitful shadows, was so intertwined with the life of this family, that it seemed one of them.
The casket rested under the tree, and the friends, in sorrowing sympathy, sat gathered around.
The clouds rolled over head, stricken and more ominous; the lightning flashed.
The minister offered a prayer, and the choir sang.
The clouds seemed, in heartbreaking sympathy, to gain in strength of fury, and the rain came in copious downpour.
In dismay, the funeral director moved, first the casket, and then the family and friends, back into the house, where the funeral service was delivered by Rev. Taylor, Rev. Hainey assisted. Mrs. Jessie Estes led the choir at the organ. The sweet voices of the young girls, were an inspiring solace in the melody of vocal prayer and invocation.
The time had now come for the departure to the cemetery. The rain came yet, in copious tears; wraps and umbrellas were necessary for protection in reaching the carriages.
Slowly, the funeral cortege moved away from the lifetime home of the departed. Slowly it wended adown the long lane west of the house, and slowly the husband and father, of this pretty home, went to his last resting place, followed by a long line of carriages full of friends and relatives, bowed in sorrow - to testify their loyality - both, to the dead and his bereaved. The procession moved along the county road splashing thro the mud puddles made here and there by the heavy rain; each league took them nearer the edge of the rain pour and at the cemetery, very little rain had fallen. As the casket was placed over the open grave and the family took their places of mourning, the sun came out in golden glory. The beautiful floral offerings were placed in banks, and the same, artistic border of rich flowers laid around the grave. The casket was open so the neighbours, who had gathered at the church could view the face in its last sleep. The choir of young girls, school-mates of the beautiful young daughter now unconscious in wild grief, sang "Rock of Ages" as the procession of friends passed around the grave.
The last farewell spoken, the last song died out over the grave into a quiet echo, the last prayer sent up to the throne of grace, the comforting words of love and sympathy, with a tender handshake from the neighboring farm people, and the crowd begain to break and turn their faces homeward. As the family bowed in wild grief, moved slowly away, the sun's rays rested like a benediction on the new made mound, radiant with the sweetest flowers of the season as with a seeming caress, the last rays of the setting sun touched with a soft glory of condolence, and inspiration to hope and a life ever upward, Godward, to be grand and ennobling in its influence on earth and perfected in its completeness of that charity that thinketh no evil, eternal in the Heavens; then the family and friends, went each his own way, and the Angel of the resurrection took guard over the sepulchre till Grabiel's trumpet should call the "quick and the dead" to and account of the "deeds done in the body".
Sweet peace, be with thee, brother.
The above is an account of the funeral of Charles Harrison Moores (12/17/1848 - 6/12/1906) given by his sister-in-law. The funeral starts at the home place on Moores Lane and ends at Moores Chapel Presbyterian Church Cemetery on Richmond Road.
Transcribed by William Moores and Jean McKemie on December 28,1991.