The following unidentified newspaper articles were in a collection owned by Lowell Town Historian Richard Schmal:
Curtis Jackson Trump was born in Dauphin County, Pa., April 15, 1868, and died at his home in
West Creek, Indiana, February 19, 1901, aged 32 years, 10 months and 4 days. When a child he came with his parents to Lake County, Indiana, where he has ever since made his home. February 7th, 1894, he was united in marriage to Miss Eva Angelina Spry. To this union was born three children: Ethel Angelina aged 5 years, Ester Frances aged 2 years, and Curtis Lafayette aged 19 days. "Jack," as he was familiarly called, was one of our most highly respected citizens, being an honorable, upright and industrious man. His sickness was of only three days duration, being taken sick Saturday evening and dying 3 p.m. Tuesday. He was taken with a severe pain in his ear which later developed into Spinal Menningetis. Everything was done for him by a loving wife and friends but without avail; it seems his time had come for that great change, and he had to go. In his death his wife has lost a loving husband, his children a kind father, and the community an obliging neighbor and good citizen. His funeral, which was very largely attended, occurred from the West Creek church at 2 o'clock p.m. Thursday. Rev. C.B. Baack, pastor of the Christian Church, Lowell, preached the funeral sermon, and the Lake Prairie choir furnished the music. Interment in the West Creek cemetery. He leaves his wife, three children, four brothers, John of Rockabay, Nebraska, Gabe, Peter, and Grant of Lowell, and four sisters, Mrs. John Childress, Mrs. Frank Sargent, Mrs. Allen Hoshaw, and Mrs. Cass Pinkerton of Lowell and a very large circle of friends to mourn his departure. To the sorely bereaved wife and little ones the TRIBUNE tenders sincere sympathy in this their dark hour of sorrow.
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To the Memory of Jackson Trump.
Our Darling Jackson he has left us,
But only for awhile;
But we miss his loving voice
And we miss his pleasant smile.
He is silent, sleeping sweetly
Dreaming o'er his friends so dear;
Knowing naught of earthly sorrow,
Only of the angels near.
Would we could lay our cheek dear one,
Close up to thine once more
And tell thee all within our hearts
Just as we did of yore.
But God's sweet will be done beloved,
In patience will we wait;
Till his own hand shall lift the latch
That ope's the pearly gate.
And thou with radiant smiles beloved
Will haste to meet us there:
What seems to be our cross will prove our crown
When heaven with thee we share.