Garland Brook was not established until 1886, so Alva would have been buried elsewhere, possibly in Johnson Co., and moved here at a later date.
The Evening Republican
Columbus, Indiana
Thurs., Dec. 19, 1872
Died-November 2nd, 1872, at the residence of his grandfather near Edinburgh, Alva B. Deupree, son of T.J. & M.L. aged 11 years, 4 months, and 1 day.
Lines by Miss Mollie Hagemon
The winds grow cold to-day,
The dead leaves tossed and driven,
The clouds are heavy, chilled and grey,
But Alva is safe in Heaven.
Ah! The grave seems very cold
For our lamb so meek and tender,
But the Good Shepherd keeps his fold
In fields of summer splendor.
The Evening Republican
Columbus, Indiana
Thurs., Dec. 19, 1872
Died-November 2nd, 1872, at the residence of his grandfather near Edinburgh, Alva B. Deupree, son of T.J. & M.L. aged 11 years, 4 months, and 1 day.
Lines by Miss Mollie Hagemon
The winds grow cold to-day,
The dead leaves tossed and driven,
The clouds are heavy, chilled and grey,
But Alva is safe in Heaven.
Ah! The grave seems very cold
For our lamb so meek and tender,
But the Good Shepherd keeps his fold
In fields of summer splendor.
Garland Brook was not established until 1886, so Alva would have been buried elsewhere, possibly in Johnson Co., and moved here at a later date.
The Evening Republican
Columbus, Indiana
Thurs., Dec. 19, 1872
Died-November 2nd, 1872, at the residence of his grandfather near Edinburgh, Alva B. Deupree, son of T.J. & M.L. aged 11 years, 4 months, and 1 day.
Lines by Miss Mollie Hagemon
The winds grow cold to-day,
The dead leaves tossed and driven,
The clouds are heavy, chilled and grey,
But Alva is safe in Heaven.
Ah! The grave seems very cold
For our lamb so meek and tender,
But the Good Shepherd keeps his fold
In fields of summer splendor.
The Evening Republican
Columbus, Indiana
Thurs., Dec. 19, 1872
Died-November 2nd, 1872, at the residence of his grandfather near Edinburgh, Alva B. Deupree, son of T.J. & M.L. aged 11 years, 4 months, and 1 day.
Lines by Miss Mollie Hagemon
The winds grow cold to-day,
The dead leaves tossed and driven,
The clouds are heavy, chilled and grey,
But Alva is safe in Heaven.
Ah! The grave seems very cold
For our lamb so meek and tender,
But the Good Shepherd keeps his fold
In fields of summer splendor.
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