George Lee Lifted Life's Burden by Committing Suicide, Dec. 12, 1924

In Memory of George W. Lee

In a weak way I will try to write a few words of the life and death of George W. Lee. On Thursday morning just as the sun was rising to brighten another day, he ended his life by shooting himself with a shotgun. The reason for his untimely end we cannot understand. It seemed for two months that life was a burden to him. He came to have a hope in Christ and on the fourth Saturday in October he united with the church at Oak Forest, where he remained a member until his death. Oh, it was so hard to give up one we loved so dearly, but God’s will must be done, not ours. We can only hope he is at rest. He is gone from this world of sorrow but his going has left grief and sorrow in our home. May God in his tender mercy help and comfort the bereaved family in this dark hour of sorrow.

He was the only son of the late W.F. and Melia E. Lee. He was born February 3, 1887, and died November 20, 1924, making his stay on earth 37 years, nine months and 17 days.

He leaves to mourn his loss a heart-broken wife and four small children, Melton J., Fulton B., George V., and Myrtle I. Lee, and a host of relatives and friends. He was a prominent farmer of Meadow township. In his boyhood days he was a bright scholar in school and when he grew to manhood he made an excellent school teacher. He served as magistrate for four years and he did all he could to help the township. He was a loving husband and father, a kind neighbor to all, ever ready and willing to lend a helping hand to every one in time of need.

He was tenderly laid to rest in the family cemetery on Thursday afternoon in the presence of a large crowd of sorrowing relatives and friends who gathered to pay their last tribute of respect to the deceased. A simple burial service was held at the grave. Two songs, “Amazing Grace,” and “When Shall We Met Again?” were sung and Mr. Ernia Blackman led the prayer.

Oh, that home! That lonely hope!

A voice we love is stilled;

A chair is vacant in our home.

Which can never be filled.

Tho’ sad it is to give him up,

We know the Lord maketh,

We must not murmur at his will

For we know the Lord taketh.

Written by a heartbroken wife.

From the front page of The Smithfield Herald, Friday, Dec. 12, 1924

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