Clearfield-Lycoming County PA Archives Obituaries.....Hewitt, Mary Jane Apker November 13, 1902 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/pafiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Diana Tyler LiebeLeah@aol.com April 9, 2010, 5:43 pm "Daily Gazette & Bulletin" 20 Nov 1902 In Memory of Mary Jane Hewitt The Noble and Christian Character of One of Penfield’s Women Who Recently Passed Away Story of Her Life. Mary Jane Apker, for many years the loyal and loving life companion of Franklin E. Hewitt, was born in Lewis township, near Trout Run, Lycoming county, Pa., August 16, 1839, and died at her home in Penfield at 4 o’clock in the morning of November 13, 1902. Her father was John Apker. The family is an old and respected one in the Middle States. In New Jersey, where the name is Apgar, there were many of them on the patriot side in the war of the Revolution. Her mother was Jennie Clendennin Apker, daughter of the soldier of the Revolution, John Clendennin. There were eight brothers, Robert, John, George, Andrew, Nicholas, Charles, Benjamin F. and David D. and three sisters, Rebecca, Esther and Almira. Of these, George, Benjamin, David, Rebecca (Mrs. Hamby), and Esther (Mrs. A.L. Moore) are living. Mary was the eighth child. Mrs. Hewitt lived her childhood years at the birthplace home. In 1855 the family who were still at home moved to Bennetts Branch and located on the farm near Mill Run, now the Thompson farm. Mr. Apker lumbered for the elder John DuBois, where Winterburn now is. At the father’s home, on November 21, 1858, by the Rev. J.D. Boyer of the Church of the Messiah, Mary became the wife of Franklin E. Hewitt. A real life union, destined to be exceptionally fortunate in mutual companionship and helpfulness. The young couple lived with father, John B. Hewitt, until April 23, 1861. Israel Wilson had sold his property in Penfield to Franklin and gone west. Here then, the new home was founded, and in 1873, the fine new residence was completed and occupied thereafter. For more than forty years the one who has gone was the good angel of this happy home. To the welfare of her dear ones and of others were given the days and the toils of her life. “Nothing for me, all for others,” was her beacon star. In realizing her ideal of a home, of a wife and mother, she gave herself little relaxation and little of what the world takes(?) pleasure. But she had her joy and her reward. The three children, John Marshall, Thomas Burton, and Jennie Mabel, now Mrs. O. R. Johnson, were spared to become useful and respected, and they lavishly gave to mother love and devotion most sincere. When the fatal illness came, the gentle daughter hastened home and shrank from no task in her tireless ministrations. The disease which ended the earthly life appeared on Sunday, October 12. The best physicians were at once consulted and decided that there had been a rupture of a delicate blood vessel of the brain, foreshadowing paralysis and failure of life. At times she seemed to improve. One evening she came into the parlor and sat by the window listening with interest and enjoyment to the piano playing of John, her son. But the dread enemy was not to be baffled, and she gradually worsened(?) until in the early dawn the spirit took its flight. It was permitted her to say “Goodby” to Burton only as he was leaving for his home after a visit to her. When the end came she strove hard to speak to the others, and did succeed in thrice calling “John.” But she was unable to do more. The funeral was at the home on Saturday afternoon in the presence of a large concourse. Revs. A.B. Hooven, J.R. Ebner and David Caldwell were in charge, with W.L. Joyce as director. The Odd Fellows Order, of which Mr. Hewitt is for many years a member, were present and officiated as pall-bearers. Rev. Mr. Hooven spoke on the Master’s words, “She is not dead but sleepeth,” suggested by the reposeful appearance of the departed. The choir sang what she had so often sung “Shall we gather at the river,” and “There’ll be no Dark Valley,” and an anthem, “The Lord is My Shepherd.” The floral offerings were beautiful and fitting. The women friends of town contributed the “Sickle and Sheaf,” friends in DuBois “Gates Ajar,” Frank Apker, of Williamsport, Homer Dowe, of DuBois, and John and Nellie Moore beautiful clusters, the immediate family the “Harp with a Broken String,” and three links, from the Odd Fellows. The day was balmy and bright with sunshine, the smiling sky tending to assuage the grief of the bereaved. And they had yet higher consolation. During the great revival by Rev. E.M. Chilcoat, Methodist pastor, in 1875, the departed sought the blessing pardon and peace at the altar of penitence. One morning in her home about her duties the light and the joy came to her soul, and she gave happy vent to her feelings. Afterward, at the family worship, she did the reading of the Sacred word. This experience, definite and positive and bright, was the light that has now guided her bark of life into the eternal haven. The many present passed along the bier and looked for the last time upon the peaceful features of their neighbor and friend for so many years. Then silently, tenderly, the temple of clay from which the tenant had departed was borne to the quiet city of the dead. Here on the sunny southern slope, where the king of day ever kisses(?) with his warm caress the mounds of the sleeping ones, the body was gently laid to rest until the awakening and the reunion of the resurrection souls(?). -------- A.H. 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