Robert Taylor Kingsbury's Death
The death watch • The Masonic funeral service.
By June of 1938 Taylor Kingsbury’s physical condition had deteriorated very badly. Lilburn writes of this to his cousin Lillian:
The Death Watch
Father is not able to sit up any more. His abdomen becomes so distended he threatens to have us get drum sticks. We had the doctor come and we told him Father had said if he were a cow the doctor would just stick her and let out the gas. The doctor seriously said he had it on his mind to suggest the only thing that might be beneficial would be to “tap” him. Well, we all felt terribly at the thought, for that does no good except temporarily, and we filed remonstrances. The doctor said he would give me some medicine which might be efficacious, but thought he would have to tap Dad for the sake of his comfort. Well, the trouble abated and while his stomach has been distended numerous times, it has not been so tight until today. It looks pretty bad to me. It interferes somewhat with his breathing. He says there is no soreness to speak of, and he never complains, so if there is any inconvenience suffered he says nothing of it. His complexion is rosier than any of ours, and his face isn’t so thin, and we think his body has picked up considerably. However we have a hard time finding anything that will agree with him and we think taking so much medicine has upset him and are trying to get along with less of it. We don’t always know what is best to do.
Well it has all been very sweet caring for him during this illness, and a privilege to do everything possible for him. Hardly a day goes by that Dad’s sense of humor does not manifest itself.
We called Dr. van Ravenswaay in and he found Dad terribly uncomfortable and badly bloated. He said there were only two things to do: tap or give serum. That night Dad was worse than he had ever been, could not get in a comfortable position for his breathing was labored. This serum affects the kidneys so the surplus fluid in the body drains out through the kidneys, and within 12 to 14 hours, a gallon or more had passed and Father was much relieved. He was able to sleep fairly well last night. I was up about every hour and a half to help him change his position, but slept soundly between calls. Today Father has an appetite again and enjoyed some stewed chicken and a few little bits of other things.
Several nights later when Father seemed so poorly, he said he wanted to talk to Horace and me, as the eldest and youngest sons of the family. He wanted to tell us what he desired at his funeral, etc. and wanted a very simple inexpensive coffin. He preferred to be buried without a steel vault, wanted just the old-fashioned box of wood. He wants his funeral service at Clark’s Chapel and for songs: “Abide With Me” and “Nearer My God to Thee;” for scripture, “John 14 will be good for there are many good verses.” The Rev. Rutherford, our pastor, is to preside at the service. Wants the seven grandsons to be the pallbearers, but if not enough of them are available, fill in with nephews. Wants a Masonic service. Said he knew there would not be room in the family lot for the service and suggested it be held just outside and west of the church. Because he is the oldest Mason in the County, the Lodges of other towns might wish to be invited, and perhaps the Knights Templars might wish to have part in the service, since he is one of the two surviving charter members. He wants a simple marker on the grave. He concluded his interview saying these were wishes which he would like to see carried out but if we, as a family, thought best to make any changes, we should feel at liberty to do so. Horace assured him his wishes would be carried out as closely as possible.
Father hoped I would carry on the farm which I would not mind doing if I could make it pay for itself, but since I have been fooling with it for 11 or 12 years, it has not paid sufficiently to do more than keep two men working for me and put me some in debt. I don’t know how I would ever make the farm pay unless times get better. I shall see how things stack up when dad is gone. I might feel more endeared to the old place, or I might not care to keep up such an expensive operation. The household expenses have not come out of the farm earnings because there have been none in recent years. It is sort of a wild thought to think the home will go on as it has during the lives of Mother and Father.
4 July 1938
Dear Cousin Lillian,
Friday and Saturday nights the doctor “hypodermiced” Father. He slept all night Friday and until noon Saturday and in the afternoon he was conscious and shook or nodded his head when we talked with him. He drank about two thirds of a glass of lemonade and wanted a good deal of ice water. He suffered most with his left leg. About nine o’clock last night the doctor put him to sleep again. Mrs. Cartner was with him until about 2 a.m., then I was with him the rest of the night but so worn out I dozed off. But there was little perceptible change in his condition, except for a higher pulse and a little slower breathing.
I went down town about 9:30 Sunday morning and came very near going elsewhere on an errand, had not gone to Sunday School, but went back home instead and almost immediately learned there was a change for the worse. In just a few minutes it was all over, just a few short breaths, and the sounds were those of a bottle being thrown in the water and making little gurgling sounds as it fills up and sinks. And then everything was quiet. I am so glad to have been at home when he died.
The Masonic Funeral Service
On July 8, Lilburn wrote his Cousin:
Of course everything was conducted according to plan.
The church was comfortably filled. I have a way of getting in the wrong places in Masonic processions and Lillian, Will Darneal, Rosie and I followed the coffin down the aisle. I noticed none of the relatives followed us just then, but the Masons and Knights Templar came piling in, then the rest of the family! My face turned a little red but on the way out, I managed to do the right thing. Some family members suggested that in the family procession, the eldest son should come first and the next in line and so on, but it had not been worked out, however I do think the rest of the family other than those mentioned, did line up according to age.
We stood until everyone had entered the church, then were seated and the minister read the 90th Psalm. Then my quartet from the Boonville church sang, “Asleep in Jesus” and the Reverend read from John 14, and followed with prayer. Babe Edmonston says he prayed for twenty minutes. This part of the service displeased me because in my mind, it was not a pretty prayer. I sat and thought “You just would not be done out of preaching a sermon, would you?”
Then the quartet sang “Abide With Me,” and the procession filed out to the grave. Under a canopy, chairs had been arranged, but none of us cared to sit, so we stood throughout the Masonic service which was rendered most impressively. Representatives of the Knights Templar were there and at a place in the ritual they crossed swords above the casket as it was in a position to be lowered, and in unison said the Lord’s Prayer. When the Masons finished, following was the benediction.
A reception was held for the relatives and friends who came up to condole with us and to visit with us, and this continued for at least 30 to 40 minutes with groups all the way from the lot to the front gate. I think I visited a little with everybody who was there. It was just in the good old Clark’s Chapel manner and what a fine thing it was. A blessed occasion I called it. Much inviting on the part of Lillian, Ellen and me, we had decided to pool our food and have a pick-up lunch at Ellen’s. Many of the family who had come for the funeral were leaving immediately after lunch and this made it the only way we could all be together.
There must have been about forty for lunch at Ellen’s and everything went well. Ellen had a baked ham, we took fried chicken. Then there was a relish of vegetables, peach pickles, apple sauce, stuffed tomatoes, iced tea, ice cream and cake.
At Clark’s Chapel a few people came up and expressed their opinion that it was “a fine, dignified, impressive funeral.” It was and if there is such a thing as Father hearing it, perhaps he liked the reverend’s long prayer. Who knows?
I now find myself wishing often I could do some of the chores again which were necessary in taking care of Father. We’re busy trying to get our lives adjusted.
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