LAST, SAD JOURNEY IS ENDED
Final Tribute of Love and Respect to Memory of Ferriel LeBleu.
The remains of Ferriel LeBleu, youngest son of J.C. LeBleu, president of the police jury, arrived last night over the Watkins railroad from St. Louis, where he died Saturday morning, and this afternoon was interred in his native Louisiana soil. Loving friends met his mortal remains when they arrived last evening, and a guard of honor from the local military companies conveyed them to the home of his sister, Mrs. C. M. Richard.
The bearers of the casket were Capt. Paul A. Sompayrac of the Third Troop of Cavalry, of which he was a member; Capt. Oswald McNeese of Co. K, Lieutenant Bret Eddy of Co. K, M. E. Crawford, Gus Gaudet and W. P. Trotter. Seldom has a death occurred which aroused more sympathy and occasioned more regret than that of this splendid example of young manhood, just freed from years of arduous schooling at the Louisiana State University and entering upon the preparation for his life work as a healer of the sick. Down the pathway of Time stretches a noble and beautiful fabric designed by the great Master Weaver, rich in coloring, gorgeous in pattern, but made up of unnumbered millions of human lives. His friends mourn because the incompleteness of this young man's life seems a tragedy; but to our finite, human comprehension, no life is complete. Even the old man of fourscore, lagging superfluous after his companions have gone the way of all flesh, has his mourners who weep because he could not be spared to them a few years longer.
But to the eye of the Master who weaves with infinite patience the fabric of human lives, every span of human life is complete, from that of the babe that perished upon its mother's breast to the nonagenarian to whom the visit of the Angel of Death seems a kindness. Every strand, however short, has its required place and helps to form the beautiful fabric He fashions. And the friends of the departed youth have only this consolation: That he died before his clear eyes were dimmed by disillusionment. He quaffed the wine of life and set aside the dregs. Every life is immortal; when its mission here is accomplished it goes to fulfill others, perhaps more important and ennobling.
The funeral of Mr. LeBleu took place at 8 o'clock this afternoon when the cortege left the home of his sister, Mrs. Richard and proceeded to the church of the Immaculate Conception. The procession was a long one and the church was crowded with the friends of the deceased and his family. An imposing feature was the presence of the two military companies—the Third Troop of Cavalry and K. Company—members of which acted in the capacity of pallbearers.
At the church the simple but beautiful rites of the church were solemnized after which the remains were brought to the Catholic Cemetery. There, the last ceremonies of the church were performed and Bugler Charles Hewett sounded the good night call, "Taps," as all that was mortal of Ferriel LeBleu were laid to rest until the dawning of the great day, and his soul committed to the hands of God. (Source: Trent Gremillion)
Final Tribute of Love and Respect to Memory of Ferriel LeBleu.
The remains of Ferriel LeBleu, youngest son of J.C. LeBleu, president of the police jury, arrived last night over the Watkins railroad from St. Louis, where he died Saturday morning, and this afternoon was interred in his native Louisiana soil. Loving friends met his mortal remains when they arrived last evening, and a guard of honor from the local military companies conveyed them to the home of his sister, Mrs. C. M. Richard.
The bearers of the casket were Capt. Paul A. Sompayrac of the Third Troop of Cavalry, of which he was a member; Capt. Oswald McNeese of Co. K, Lieutenant Bret Eddy of Co. K, M. E. Crawford, Gus Gaudet and W. P. Trotter. Seldom has a death occurred which aroused more sympathy and occasioned more regret than that of this splendid example of young manhood, just freed from years of arduous schooling at the Louisiana State University and entering upon the preparation for his life work as a healer of the sick. Down the pathway of Time stretches a noble and beautiful fabric designed by the great Master Weaver, rich in coloring, gorgeous in pattern, but made up of unnumbered millions of human lives. His friends mourn because the incompleteness of this young man's life seems a tragedy; but to our finite, human comprehension, no life is complete. Even the old man of fourscore, lagging superfluous after his companions have gone the way of all flesh, has his mourners who weep because he could not be spared to them a few years longer.
But to the eye of the Master who weaves with infinite patience the fabric of human lives, every span of human life is complete, from that of the babe that perished upon its mother's breast to the nonagenarian to whom the visit of the Angel of Death seems a kindness. Every strand, however short, has its required place and helps to form the beautiful fabric He fashions. And the friends of the departed youth have only this consolation: That he died before his clear eyes were dimmed by disillusionment. He quaffed the wine of life and set aside the dregs. Every life is immortal; when its mission here is accomplished it goes to fulfill others, perhaps more important and ennobling.
The funeral of Mr. LeBleu took place at 8 o'clock this afternoon when the cortege left the home of his sister, Mrs. Richard and proceeded to the church of the Immaculate Conception. The procession was a long one and the church was crowded with the friends of the deceased and his family. An imposing feature was the presence of the two military companies—the Third Troop of Cavalry and K. Company—members of which acted in the capacity of pallbearers.
At the church the simple but beautiful rites of the church were solemnized after which the remains were brought to the Catholic Cemetery. There, the last ceremonies of the church were performed and Bugler Charles Hewett sounded the good night call, "Taps," as all that was mortal of Ferriel LeBleu were laid to rest until the dawning of the great day, and his soul committed to the hands of God. (Source: Trent Gremillion)
LAST, SAD JOURNEY IS ENDED
Final Tribute of Love and Respect to Memory of Ferriel LeBleu.
The remains of Ferriel LeBleu, youngest son of J.C. LeBleu, president of the police jury, arrived last night over the Watkins railroad from St. Louis, where he died Saturday morning, and this afternoon was interred in his native Louisiana soil. Loving friends met his mortal remains when they arrived last evening, and a guard of honor from the local military companies conveyed them to the home of his sister, Mrs. C. M. Richard.
The bearers of the casket were Capt. Paul A. Sompayrac of the Third Troop of Cavalry, of which he was a member; Capt. Oswald McNeese of Co. K, Lieutenant Bret Eddy of Co. K, M. E. Crawford, Gus Gaudet and W. P. Trotter. Seldom has a death occurred which aroused more sympathy and occasioned more regret than that of this splendid example of young manhood, just freed from years of arduous schooling at the Louisiana State University and entering upon the preparation for his life work as a healer of the sick. Down the pathway of Time stretches a noble and beautiful fabric designed by the great Master Weaver, rich in coloring, gorgeous in pattern, but made up of unnumbered millions of human lives. His friends mourn because the incompleteness of this young man's life seems a tragedy; but to our finite, human comprehension, no life is complete. Even the old man of fourscore, lagging superfluous after his companions have gone the way of all flesh, has his mourners who weep because he could not be spared to them a few years longer.
But to the eye of the Master who weaves with infinite patience the fabric of human lives, every span of human life is complete, from that of the babe that perished upon its mother's breast to the nonagenarian to whom the visit of the Angel of Death seems a kindness. Every strand, however short, has its required place and helps to form the beautiful fabric He fashions. And the friends of the departed youth have only this consolation: That he died before his clear eyes were dimmed by disillusionment. He quaffed the wine of life and set aside the dregs. Every life is immortal; when its mission here is accomplished it goes to fulfill others, perhaps more important and ennobling.
The funeral of Mr. LeBleu took place at 8 o'clock this afternoon when the cortege left the home of his sister, Mrs. Richard and proceeded to the church of the Immaculate Conception. The procession was a long one and the church was crowded with the friends of the deceased and his family. An imposing feature was the presence of the two military companies—the Third Troop of Cavalry and K. Company—members of which acted in the capacity of pallbearers.
At the church the simple but beautiful rites of the church were solemnized after which the remains were brought to the Catholic Cemetery. There, the last ceremonies of the church were performed and Bugler Charles Hewett sounded the good night call, "Taps," as all that was mortal of Ferriel LeBleu were laid to rest until the dawning of the great day, and his soul committed to the hands of God. (Source: Trent Gremillion)
Final Tribute of Love and Respect to Memory of Ferriel LeBleu.
The remains of Ferriel LeBleu, youngest son of J.C. LeBleu, president of the police jury, arrived last night over the Watkins railroad from St. Louis, where he died Saturday morning, and this afternoon was interred in his native Louisiana soil. Loving friends met his mortal remains when they arrived last evening, and a guard of honor from the local military companies conveyed them to the home of his sister, Mrs. C. M. Richard.
The bearers of the casket were Capt. Paul A. Sompayrac of the Third Troop of Cavalry, of which he was a member; Capt. Oswald McNeese of Co. K, Lieutenant Bret Eddy of Co. K, M. E. Crawford, Gus Gaudet and W. P. Trotter. Seldom has a death occurred which aroused more sympathy and occasioned more regret than that of this splendid example of young manhood, just freed from years of arduous schooling at the Louisiana State University and entering upon the preparation for his life work as a healer of the sick. Down the pathway of Time stretches a noble and beautiful fabric designed by the great Master Weaver, rich in coloring, gorgeous in pattern, but made up of unnumbered millions of human lives. His friends mourn because the incompleteness of this young man's life seems a tragedy; but to our finite, human comprehension, no life is complete. Even the old man of fourscore, lagging superfluous after his companions have gone the way of all flesh, has his mourners who weep because he could not be spared to them a few years longer.
But to the eye of the Master who weaves with infinite patience the fabric of human lives, every span of human life is complete, from that of the babe that perished upon its mother's breast to the nonagenarian to whom the visit of the Angel of Death seems a kindness. Every strand, however short, has its required place and helps to form the beautiful fabric He fashions. And the friends of the departed youth have only this consolation: That he died before his clear eyes were dimmed by disillusionment. He quaffed the wine of life and set aside the dregs. Every life is immortal; when its mission here is accomplished it goes to fulfill others, perhaps more important and ennobling.
The funeral of Mr. LeBleu took place at 8 o'clock this afternoon when the cortege left the home of his sister, Mrs. Richard and proceeded to the church of the Immaculate Conception. The procession was a long one and the church was crowded with the friends of the deceased and his family. An imposing feature was the presence of the two military companies—the Third Troop of Cavalry and K. Company—members of which acted in the capacity of pallbearers.
At the church the simple but beautiful rites of the church were solemnized after which the remains were brought to the Catholic Cemetery. There, the last ceremonies of the church were performed and Bugler Charles Hewett sounded the good night call, "Taps," as all that was mortal of Ferriel LeBleu were laid to rest until the dawning of the great day, and his soul committed to the hands of God. (Source: Trent Gremillion)
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