1899 Obituary of Addie McGrath Lee, wife of Major Jordan Gray Lee of Union Parish Louisiana Submitted for the Union Parish Louisiana USGenWeb Archives by Hank Johns, 8/2006 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://usgwarchives.net/la/lafiles.htm ************************************************ ================================================================================= 1899 Obituary of Addie McGrath Lee, wife of Major J. G. Lee of Union Parish Louisiana "Banner Democrat", issue dated 18 February 1899, page 3, column 6 Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, Louisiana ================================================================================== ADDIE MCGRATH LEE Addie McGrath Lee, the beloved daughter, the cherished wife, and the gifted writer died last week. We look at her pamphet of short stories and read a few of her poems, and realize, with sorrow, what a strong, sympathetic person has passed away from this work-a-day world. What a loss she is to her family, to the state, to the many that loved and admired her! Soon after her marriage to Major J. G. Lee, Addie McGrath left her pretty home at Baton Rouge and went to live at Calhoun, La. Here amid the "play woods" she met a simple, crude people. She entered into their sunless lives, read the good in their hearts, and beneath her touch, their rough natures became glorified and ennobled. It is of these people she wrote, and her book pulsaten with their very heartbeats, their loves and hates, tempestnous as nature. The atmosphere of the stories is always the same, gray ashen atmosphere of poverty; but the incidents are varied, and the style is dramatic and condensed. The climax, whether of emotion or action, comes quickly -- unexpectedly, like a flame struck from flint. Her char- acters being drawn from nature, are natural. They live and become one's friends. Poor mending Mandy and old Mr. Podson and "them shiftless Simpson's" and Uncle Dan with his wonderful divining rod are all good folk, whom, in spite of their different little crankly ways, one would hate to part with forever. And if the creatues become one's friends, how much more does the creator, their author become one's friend? Who does not feel the personality of the writer back of her words? Who does not love the noble, sympatetic nature of the woman, able to discover that which is noble and heroic in what appears crude and unattractive? Who does not see in these stories, a touch of genius, the promise of a rich fruition? But the promise will not be fulfilled. The Death Angel has sealed the gifted writer. The pen has fallen from her hand; and the wind, in her own beloved piney woods, moans disconsolately (like those that love her), for sweet, brilliant Addie Lee. ###################################