Published as it appeared on Jan. 28, 1876, in the Weekly Corvallis Gazette, Page 5, Column 3.
DIED
At the family residence, in this county, Jan. 20, 1876, L.J., wife of P.W. Ross, aged 22 years and 8 months.
Published as it appeared on Feb. 4, 1876, in the Weekly Corvallis Gazette, Page 3, Column 3.
In Memoriam.
Mrs. L.J. Ross, wife of P.W. Ross, aged 22 years and 8 months, died at her residence near Philomath, Jan. 20, 1876. Her sufferings were intense, but without a murmur she bore it all meekly, and waited patiently and submissively for the last great change. Even at the eleventh hour Jesus proved to us that He would hear, and would answer when the humble penitent called upon Him. Her religious experience was brief, but her death was victorious; Jesus stood beside her even in the dying moment and in His own arms of love carried her safely and triumphantly over the river of death.
A few days before her death, on being asked by myself if all was well, she exclaimed “no, all was dark;” again she said, “It is an awful thing to be called to die and be unprepared.” We attempted, as best we could, to direct her to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the whole world. We read some of those precious promises that abound in the Book of Life, such as “Ask and it shall be given you,” “knock and it shall be opened,” and “come unto me all ye that weary and are heavy laden and I will give you rest,” and then commended her to God.
For several days I visited her and instructed her as best I could; by and by a new light broke forth into her soul, and then, in perfect composure and resignation, and without the least emotion, she said, “I have suffered so much, I am not afraid to die; I can give you all up; I am going to father and mother and little Lillian; the baby will soon follow me, she cannot live.”
In speaking to her husband again, she said: “Don’t weep for me, my time has come, I must go; you should be glad that I have gone to rest.” Never in all my life, did I witness such a scene. Just before she died, she called her friends up to her bedside, and warned them faithfully to meet her in Heaven. A mere promise would not satisfy her; but in every instance, she said, “now, I want you to fulfill your promise. Do not put it off one week, one month.” Among the last words she was heard to utter were, “Jesus died to save me.” “God take me.”
Thus has another immortal soul been taken from earth, and been permitted to sweep through the gates of the New Jerusalem and join that blood washed throng “who have come out of great tribulation and washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
We sympathize with and pray for the sorrowing ones, who have been left behind and trust that they may follow her home. Their loss is her gain, and now she is safely housed in that world above, where there is no sorrow, no pain, no weeping, no parting, no death; but where there is love and harmony and perfect peace.
R.E. Williams.
Philomath, Jan. 26, 1876.