Robert Cyrus Gorball (1913-1926)
- A wave of sorrow swept over this community Monday morning, April 5th, when the sad announcement was made that Robert Gorball had departed this life at his home west of town.
Robert Cyrus Gorball was born near Lowell, Ind., July 17, 1913, and passed to the Great Beyond on April 5, 1926, aged 12 years, 8 months and 22 days. He had been sick for a little over three weeks with bronchial pneumonia and was thought to be getting better when there came a change for the worse and the death angel called and his spirit passed on.
The first year of his school life was spent at the Sheridan school and the remaining years at the Oakland school. He was a faithful attendant at the Bible school of the Christian church, also played in the Boys' Orchestra. He was a boy who won the respect of all because of his gentleness of nature always a kind, loving and obedient child in his home circle, and respected by his school mates. The spirit of kindness, gentleness and love was ever shown forth by his words and actions.
He leaves to mourn his death, his father and mother, Mr. and Mrs. Clifford Gorball, two sisters, Hattie and Gladys, one brother, Kitchell, both grandmothers, Mrs. Cyrus Hayden of Lowell and Mrs. Robert Gorball Dibble and grandfather, George Dibble of Bronson, Michigan, aunts, uncles, cousins, and many friends.
Funeral services were held in the Christian church, Wednesday, April 7, and were conducted by Rev. F.B. Nickerson, who preached a very impressive funeral discourse. The music was furnished by the orchestra, of which he was a member, and played sacred hymns with solemnity. Undertaker Wm. Sheets had charge of the burial service. He was laid to rest in the Lowell cemetery. The pall-bearers were three boys from the Oakland school and three from the church orchestra: Sheridan Ruge, Bert Griessel, Edgar Clark, Dale Clark, Russell Nelson, August Wietbrock.
- Robert, you have left us,
Oh, how sad our hearts today;
While we know 'twas not your wishes,
Yet, how the fatal arrow stings.
You are gone, yes, gone from us forever,
Yet we will hold your memory dear,
Now that golden chord is broken,
And our hopes in ruin lie.
Sleep on dear child, you are at rest,
We will try our grief to bear;
Knowing not how soon we'll meet you
In that Heavenly home above.
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