This is taken from a copy of The Hesperia Union dated 13 February 1925. I also wonder if it could have been written by my favorite obituary writer, Mrs Robertson. It is from the right area, and around the right time. And the style is certainly similar.
IN REMEMBRANCE OF ETTA SEYMOUR
Like as a bolt out of a clear sky, the angel of Death struck one of our faithful daughters of the family Hesperia. And like the one family we mourn for Etta Seymour, the faithful life companion of our Manley, who yet in the prime of her life was snatched from us. And we mourn not without reason, for we are bereaved of a woman with a singular spirit of fellowship and love for us all in that way which was so dear to us, and which expressed in the various circles in which the family of Hesperia moves, both religious and social.
A woman of taste and refinement, yet so simple hearted and loyal to the littlest of God's creatures. A true daughter of the parsonage, she put heart and soul in the institution when her Reverend Father and Mother ministered to the Church of the Living God, and broke for the little lambs of Christ's and her father's flock the Bread of Life that nurtured them into growth, at the same time being big-souled enough as to find opportunity and enjoyment in those circles of adults where hearty comradship is so highly priced.
Etta was everywhere where cheer was both wanted and needed, and her sunny smile and her quick-witted mind, together with a fine sense conquered many a gloom and removed much discouragement. Music she loved and music she brought not only in the seven notes, but in rich worlds and benign smiles, that livened up those to whom they were given.
All this was taken away from us in the twinkling of an eye, and we mourn deeply and our hearts are breaking, but we mourn not like those that are without hope: We believe in the Everlasting life of those that trusting in Him that made the promise, that they that believe on Him, shall never die, shed that everlasting life in the hearts of their fellows.
Etta is not dead, Etta sleepeth, the same as her Christ said of His other friend Lazarus, and He will come and arouse her out of her sleep, when he shall come for His own, to the restored joy of her many brothers and sisters. such souls like hers never die: They have sown too much good seed to die: seeds of loving kindness, seeds of fellowship and friendship, seeds of life and happy, healthy laughter, and though these are cast into the ground with her, must first die, yet they live in the stem, the bud, the flower and the fruitage.
Though a grand chapter is closed so quickly that one wonders why the end has already come, yet the continuation of its tail is found in the living, never-dying remembrance in the heats and lives of those small and greater ones who have had the touch of her sweet life.
Etta Seymour is unforgettable. She remains a living remembrance till our own life ebbs out, for she has been part of our very selves, and when one member suffers, we all suffer, and when one member departs, we depart in part with it. we are too inseparably united.
We believe no better comfort can be given to our sorrowing friend and brother, Manley, and to her only brother, Ed, than that they realize that we are truly broken with them and are smitten with the same stroke of that bolt that so suddenly took their beloved one from their side, and that she lives, never to die again.
We commit them as ourselves to the care of the Heavenly Father in whose Bosom we depisited their and our Beloved one.
Sarah Esther Seymour, the daughter of Rev. Orrin and Mrs Rhoda Johnson, was born at Westville, Mich. March 24, 1887. In September of the year 1899 she came with her parents to Hesperia where the Rev. Mr. Johnson was assigned a Pastor of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Here she made the acquaintance of Mr. Manley Seymour to whom she was married June 22, 1904, at Alamo Mich.
Besides yer husband she leaves one brother, Mr. Edward Johnson and her nephew Walter, also Evelyn June Seymour, an adopted daughter.
Sister, sleep peacefully, till the Morning Star awakens you!
Can you see why I thought this may have been the words of Mrs. Robertson? And can you imagine seeing something like this, with a triple black border above the fold the next time you pick up your local paper. Times sure have changed.