It had been previously noted in the February 18 edition of the Wahoo Wasp:
Harry Rudeen is seriously ill at this writing.
Harry was the younger brother of my grandfather, Lawrence Rudeen. Then from the February 25, 1915 edition of the Wahoo Wasp:
Harry Rudeen passed away February 15, 1915 at the home of his mother, at the age of 25 years. He was one of our most highly respected young men and beside his immediate relatives, leaves a large host of friends to mourn his loss. Funeral services were held Thursday at the Swedeberg cemetery.
The news article went on to include “the following lines…written by Rev. F. O. Gustafson and dedicated as a tribute to the deceased:”
Sleep brother dear! Your spirit has departed
To purer realms where we agreed to meet
Until the death, life’s journey has been thwarted
In love’s best castle dwells your memory sweet.
Heavenward you dear ones have been starting,
And thus sweetened all our trial and parting.
Your thoughts frequented heaven’s land so fair
With melodies we often love to hear
‘When the Roll is called up Yonder, I’ll be there.’
‘Nearer by God to Thee’, free from pain and fear
Where sin and death and parting are no more
As here on this our earthly barren shore
Yes Harry we hope to meet you there,
No scalding tears shall moisten loving eyes
‘When the roll is called up Yonder, We’ll be there’
Where golden streets in heavenly splendor lies
And bliss and joy and peace forever reigns
In concord with angelic harpers strains.
The poem’s author, Pastor Gustafson, is shown in the youth group photo from a few weeks back.