The Wichita Eagle, Thursday, June 25, 1874, Page 3
SAD.—There occurred a sad sequel to the dark storm which passed over our city last Saturday, leaving desolation and sorrow in a loving family. The storm had almost spent itself and the black clouds were scudding away to the south before a wind that had shook everything in its path, when an electrical bolt descended into the home of Abram Smith and suddenly snatched away the joy of the household. Their little boy, but just four years old was playing with his brother near the centre of the room when the fatal stoke descended. The father was at work down town, all unconscious of the terrible blow until life had fled from the bright eyes of the little fair haired child that had only a few hours before sought a kiss from his lips. When we called in the evening the father and mother were nearly distracted over the sudden and awful calamity. Next day was Sabbath and the sun shone forth in all its splendor and while the bell tolled out its solemn sound the little form was borne by the little hands of Sunday school scholars, led by a band of little girls carrying flowers, to the church, from whence it was carried to its last resting place on a green hillside that overlooks the town. We most heartily sympathize with them in their sadest of afflictions.
SAD.—There occurred a sad sequel to the dark storm which passed over our city last Saturday, leaving desolation and sorrow in a loving family. The storm had almost spent itself and the black clouds were scudding away to the south before a wind that had shook everything in its path, when an electrical bolt descended into the home of Abram Smith and suddenly snatched away the joy of the household. Their little boy, but just four years old was playing with his brother near the centre of the room when the fatal stoke descended. The father was at work down town, all unconscious of the terrible blow until life had fled from the bright eyes of the little fair haired child that had only a few hours before sought a kiss from his lips. When we called in the evening the father and mother were nearly distracted over the sudden and awful calamity. Next day was Sabbath and the sun shone forth in all its splendor and while the bell tolled out its solemn sound the little form was borne by the little hands of Sunday school scholars, led by a band of little girls carrying flowers, to the church, from whence it was carried to its last resting place on a green hillside that overlooks the town. We most heartily sympathize with them in their sadest of afflictions.
The Wichita Eagle, Thursday, June 25, 1874, Page 3
SAD.—There occurred a sad sequel to the dark storm which passed over our city last Saturday, leaving desolation and sorrow in a loving family. The storm had almost spent itself and the black clouds were scudding away to the south before a wind that had shook everything in its path, when an electrical bolt descended into the home of Abram Smith and suddenly snatched away the joy of the household. Their little boy, but just four years old was playing with his brother near the centre of the room when the fatal stoke descended. The father was at work down town, all unconscious of the terrible blow until life had fled from the bright eyes of the little fair haired child that had only a few hours before sought a kiss from his lips. When we called in the evening the father and mother were nearly distracted over the sudden and awful calamity. Next day was Sabbath and the sun shone forth in all its splendor and while the bell tolled out its solemn sound the little form was borne by the little hands of Sunday school scholars, led by a band of little girls carrying flowers, to the church, from whence it was carried to its last resting place on a green hillside that overlooks the town. We most heartily sympathize with them in their sadest of afflictions.
SAD.—There occurred a sad sequel to the dark storm which passed over our city last Saturday, leaving desolation and sorrow in a loving family. The storm had almost spent itself and the black clouds were scudding away to the south before a wind that had shook everything in its path, when an electrical bolt descended into the home of Abram Smith and suddenly snatched away the joy of the household. Their little boy, but just four years old was playing with his brother near the centre of the room when the fatal stoke descended. The father was at work down town, all unconscious of the terrible blow until life had fled from the bright eyes of the little fair haired child that had only a few hours before sought a kiss from his lips. When we called in the evening the father and mother were nearly distracted over the sudden and awful calamity. Next day was Sabbath and the sun shone forth in all its splendor and while the bell tolled out its solemn sound the little form was borne by the little hands of Sunday school scholars, led by a band of little girls carrying flowers, to the church, from whence it was carried to its last resting place on a green hillside that overlooks the town. We most heartily sympathize with them in their sadest of afflictions.
