Jasper County GaArchives Obituaries.....Robert, Mrs. L. W. (Georgia Minnie Newton) December 6, 1901
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Meredith Clapper http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00012.html#0002801 June 30, 2021, 12:17 pm

The Brunswick Times-Call 29 Dec 1901 p 3  
IN MEMORY OF MRS. L. W. ROBERTS (sic) 

To the many friends of Captain L. W. Robert, chief engineer of the Brunswick 
and Birmingham Railroad, the following beautiful tribute, publishes (sic) in 
the Jasper County News, of Monticello, Ga., will be of deep interest as  it is 
in memory of his devoted wife who made so many friends during her short stay 
in Brunswick. 
The News says: 
The funeral services of Mrs. L. W. Robert were held in the Presbyterian church 
last Saturday morning and were conducted by Rev. C. A. Ridley, after which the 
interment occurred in West View Cemetery.
The following beautiful tribute is paid by her pastor: 
Mrs. Minnie Newton Robert was the daughter of Mr. L. B. and Mrs. Mattie 
Preston Newton, and was born Jan. 29th 1868.  She professed faith in Jesus 
Christ at the age of seventeen, and united with the Baptist church 
immediately. From that day unto the day of her death, she was a consistent 
christian, both in word and deed.  She was married to L. W. Robert Sept. 8th 
1886, and to them were born five children-three of them survive their mother, 
and weep at her funeral while two are with her in heaven. She died at two 
o'clock in the morning, Dec. 6th, 1901, after a long and tiresome waiting 
which she endured with all the courage of a martyr. 
For long weary months she had been gradually, yet without a murmur, nearing 
the end. Her husband and friends knew it was only a question of days, and 
still, somehow we hoped on-hoped ever. But the dreadful sickness was working 
on night and day, like a wolf fierce for blood. The husband gave up business 
and came home to watch and wait at the most sacred bedside beneath the 
heavens. Lower and lower the lamp burned, until at last it flickered and 
failed forever. At midnight the devoted husband gave the medicine that was to 
be the last she would ever need-for they never have sickness and death over 
yonder. When the medicine was given, the husband fell into a fitful sleep only 
to be awakened a few minutes later that he might witness the ending of a life 
that had ment (sic) so much to him. When he called her name she turned her 
gentle eyes toward him in loving recognition, and then went away. Her yes 
(sic) were gently closed, and an unseen hand touched them into perfect rest. 
Under the overshadowing, overpowering sense of our common loss, I know not 
what to do or say.  There is 'not a threshold in our town but is today 
darkened by the shadow of this Death Angel's wing. There is not a home 
anywhere wherein her gentle presence has ever entered, but will hear with 
heavy hearts the dreadful news that Friday morning waked our village to 
keenest grief. All who have ever shared the kindness of her home will weep 
when they hear that home has been invaded by the dread summons that awaits us 
all, and that she, who made it home, has been snatched from the arms that 
ached to hold her.  Many who are not present today will hear with hushed 
voices and streaming eyes that she, whom they loved, has gone to her long rest 
beneath the willow. 
She who lies before us in dreamless sleep, with eyelids too heavy to life to 
affection's yearning cry-with hands folded in perfect peace-was a loved and 
loving wife, a dear devoted mother, a fond and faithful friend. No better 
ebitabh (sic) can be chiseled on the tomb of a queen. She loved her husband, 
and children and her heartsto_e better than she loved her self, and no 
sacrifice she ever made for one she loved, but seemed to her joy.  She was 
blind to wrongs of others, she rarely ever chided, and her life knew no shadow 
greater than the shared sorrows of others. Her lips knew well the language of 
Charity, her soul knew no sentiment but Love, and her hands were devoted to 
lifting burdens. If there was sickness you might expect her gentle touch, if 
there was sorrow, you might expect her womanly sympathy. But she is gone now. 
She has passed into her rest. 
She was not unprepared for the visit--she even expected it at any moment, yet 
to her family and friends she ever wore that same sunny smile. Like a faithful 
Sentinel that never knows at what moment the deathshot may reach his heart, 
she held herself in hourly readiness for His call; and being thus ready, it 
was her own desire that the end should come peacefully and painless. Her 
prayer was granted, and she died without a struggle, as one going off into 
pleasant dreams. 
When Death did come, he came on velvet slippers, and his kiss was as gentle as 
the fall of snow. She was yet in her young womanhood, not having reached the 
summit of Life's Hill, when like a rare ripened flower ere the first frost 
falls, and before the solemn sigh of Autumn's is heard, she was culled for the 
Garden of God. And while she has gone from us, her deeds will ever blossom 
about her. ____ ___ as come [paper torn here]   

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