Grady County GaArchives Obituaries.....Stanaland, Mrs. R. H. (Marcia Curry) May 4 1909
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Janet Sumner http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00011.html#0002510 May 23, 2004, 1:56 pm

The Cairo Messenger, Friday, May 14, 1909
Mrs. R. H. (Marcia Curry) Stanaland
Mrs. R. H. (Marcia Curry) Stanaland was, in many respects, a model woman.  This 
writer knew her well, from early girlhood, except for an interval of some years 
during his absence from this section of country.  At the age of fifteen or 
sixteen, when, for a term, she was a school pupil under his guidance, she had 
already begun in the development of that sterling character which distinguished 
her, as far above the average woman, throughout her busy, useful life.  At the 
age of about fifty, when she died, she was the well-developed, gloriously 
rounded type of a splended womanhood of which the sweet, lady-like maiden gave 
such beautiful promise, thirty-five years ago.  A consecrated Christian woman 
is, in her life and influence, a gracious benediction to her family, her 
neighbors, and the world.  Such was she.

Mrs. Stanaland died of pneumonia, at her home, seven miles from Cairo, on 
Tuesday, the 4th inst., and the funeral services, conducted by her pastor, Rev. 
W. E. Towson, and the writer, were held at the family residence, the ensuing 
afternoon.  An immense concourse of people attended the exercises, most of whom 
followed the casket to Pleasant Grove cemetery, a mile away, where the 
interment took place, and where another large assemblage awaited the coming of 
the cortege.

The husband of the deceased, a lovely daughter and three promising sons are 
left to mourn in heart-broken sorrow, the loss of their dearest one; and, in 
addition to these, her aged, widowed mother, three sisters and a brother, 
besides other loving relatives and a multitude of devoted friends, are sadly 
bereft.  Ah, the woe!

To all those who love her and lament, let me say;
You may meet, beyond the river,
On the bright, bright heavenly shore,
Ne'er to part again, forever,
Ne'er to grieve nor suffer more.
Pain and death shall never enter --
God will wipe your weeping eyes;
Freezing blasts of icy winter
Ne'er shall sweep those summer skies;
There the trees are ever waving,
While the fragrant breezes blow,
And the stream of life is laving
Flowery banks, with endless flow.
Robert H. Harris 

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