by F.R. Smith (Dick), son of Franklin R. – Sarah

At the time of Grandfather’s last illness and passing I was just four years and four and a half months old. What a deep and lasting impression he had upon such a small fellow, who had always been taught to love and revere the man as well as his memory. The impression left with me through these many years is as clear in my mind as the time that it was received. I can still see him lying in his bed. His room was small, almost walk-in closet size, and close to the kitchen in the Beehive House. There was a small bedside table with his usual supply of perfumed candies within easy reach. Each time I would make the trip from the kitchen into the bedroom, I would be treated to a piece of the candy and Grandfather would speak to me. I can’t remember what he said to me but I believe that I was more interested in the reward I received each trip.

I recall at the time, too, that Aunt Julina was in the kitchen and I would be seated at the table with a large napkin around my neck to received the fresh baked bread and a glass of milk from the cow in residence in back of the Beehive House.

To a little boy like me, I guess that the Beehive House was just a bout as close to Heaven as I thought I’d ever be. It was so warm with the love of all the members of the family that would gather there.

My last memory of Grandfather was as he lay in State in the Beehive House. Many years (more than 45) later I had occasion to escort some friends through the building. As we came to the room it was a though I had seen my Grandfather lying there in his beautiful casket. There was a glass cover over the upper half of the casket possibly due to the flu epidemic. The casket itself was of a rich dark hardwood finish. Everything was so very beautiful and Grandfather’s appearance was serene, as though he [was] finally at rest.

These are my wonderful memories of a wonderful Grandfather and the truly beautiful women who gave him so many children and great posterity.