Henry County GaArchives Obituaries.....Dickson, Andrew November 1896
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Phyllis Thompson http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00011.html#0002524 August 25, 2006, 8:03 am

The Henry County Weekly, November 20, 1896
A Tribute in Memory of Andrew Dickson
(Written just after his death.)
      On the streets of McDonough were a vast gathering last Monday. But the 
once familiar form and face of ANDREW DICKSON was not to be seen in all that 
crowd of busy, moving men. The sad news of his death, was occasionally made 
mention of, Mr. Dickson was a man of peculiar frame of mind, one who was 
governed by his personal convictions of right and wrong. He was not influenced 
by anything, that did not come up to the high standard of uncompromising truth 
and justice.
     If he was wrong, his error was one of his head and not of his heart. He 
detested a popular tidal wave. His motto was, let truth and justice prevail, 
though the mountains be moved and the heavens pass away. It was our privilege 
to have only a partial acquaintance with Bro. DICKSON. He was an alliance man, 
firm and devoted to its principles. All he desired or would ask for was fair, 
even-handed justice between man and man. With that he was satisfied, and with 
nothing more nor less. Would to God that principle was in every mind and heart. 
In writing this brief tribute to the credits and honor of ANDREW DICKSON, we 
shall leave to the pen of one who knew more of the life record of our old 
friend, than it was my privilege to learn, to furnish a writing more worthy of 
the man. It will not be on the little narrow streets of McDonough that we shall 
see him again, but way up on Central Avenue, in that grand city, where there is 
no funeral train, ever seen moving off to the city of the dead. Lookout just a 
little ahead, beyond the pearly gate, way up the lengthening street, standing 
on the sideway, ANDREW DICKSON may be seen, clothed in his right mind with 
songs of rejoicing, echoing the loud shout of hosannas in the highest to the 
King Immortal.
     Eat him who would lower our standard and detract form his glory to which 
we have exalted him, go write on his tombstone with an iron pen.
(No room in Heaven for thee.)
     Where is the man with a robe of self-righteousness, who would overshadow 
his gave with the curtains of an unending night, and cause him to sleep the 
countless cycle through. O, mortal man, stay thy fearful verdict. Take heed to 
thy judgments, lest it be awarded to thee. No muttering thunder, nor midnight 
rainfall will molest his peaceful slumbers. Let him, sleep on, till the 
sounding of  the trumpet, and ANDREW DICKSON will answer at the “roll call.” 
Not till then, shall I see him on the streets, the richly paved streets of the 
new Jerusalem.
W. T. G.


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