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Louisa E. Connally

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Louisa E. Connally

Posted: 1490993700000
Classification: Obituary
Surnames: Connally, Armstrong, McCallister
The grim reaper, Death, has invaded another home and garnered in the loved companion and mother, and left a void that can never be filled. Louisa E. Connally (nee Armstrong) was born on what is now known as the Meager farm at the crossing of the Jaques Prairie road and Boone's Creek in Franklin County, Missouri, December 8, 1847, and died at her home near Gerald, Franklin County, Missouri, December 31, 1917, at the age of 70 years and 23 days. In 1854 her parents moved to near Dallas, Texas, returning to Franklin County, Missouri in 1866 and she lived the remainder of her life there. She professed religion in 1868 at Argo and united with the Argo congregation of the Cumberland Presbyterian church and was a member of that church at Gerald at the time of her death. During these fifty years she lived as becomes a follower of the lowly Nazarene. She was united in marriage to W. S. Connally December 29, 1875. They had just completed forty-two years of married life when separated by death. She is survived by her husband and only son, W. A. Connally, one granddaughter, Lou Ella Connally of Rosedale, Kansas; one brother, John B. Armstrong of Topeka, Kansas, and one sister, Mrs. James McCallister, of Washington, Missouri, and many other relatives and friends. Death was caused by weakening of the heart. All that loving hands and tender care could do was done to ward off death but all in vain. The funeral service was conducted at the Presbyterian church in Gerald by the Rev. W. B. Adams, assisted by Rev. S. E. Paxton, and interment was made in the Beouff Cemetery Jan. 3, 1918. How lonely will be the home without the wife or mother. A sad new year for husband and son. "The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away; blest be the name of the Lord." The solemn circle gathered around the death-bed; the stifled grief of heart-broken friends; their watchful assiduities and touching tenderness; the last testimonies of expiring love; the feeble fluttering pressure of the hand; the last fond look of fast-glazing eye turning upon us even from the threshold of existence; the faltering accents, struggling in death, to give one more assurance of affection - all these recollections dash into our minds as we stand by the open grave of those we love. -
Gerald Journal

Source: Franklin County Tribune - January 18, 1918

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