Obituary and article for William Brown Fulkerson

Transcription:

Obituary on Wm. B. Fulkerson

William B. Fulkerson, of Bogue, died last Friday night of cancer of the throat at the age of 68 years and 8 months.  Mr. Fulkerson had resided at Bogue for eighteen years, and previous to that for seventeen years in Rooks county.  He has raised a family of twelve children, all visiting their father during his last illness, except one who lives in California.
Mr. Fulkerson was born in Polk county, Ill. Nov. 10, 1906, at 4:30 o’clock A.M.  Three of the children are living in California, 2 sons and 1 daughter in Utah, 1 daughter in Nebraska and 5 are living here.
The deceased was highly respected and the funeral procession paid a handsome tribute to his life as a citizen in their midst.  The remains were interred in the Bill City cemetery, the funeral being preached bny Rev. Holt at the Baptist church in Hill Ccity, Sunday Nov. 11th.  We extend sympathy to relatives.

The Old Hotel and its Landlord

Tribute to W. B. Fulkerson,

Deceased

The old house is there yet, but its owner has gone over to the great silent majority, and is waiting the last call.
He came from Southern Illinois to Kansas in the early seventies locating in the Solomon valley near Beloit, and from there wended his way to Ash Grove between Stockton and Webster in Rooks county.  There he dwelt for a number of years.  He hunted buffalo and antelope, over the wide plains, that are now great corn, wheat and alfalfa farms.  He has seen days when the skies seemed as brass and days when the fields were flooded.  Has waited and watched in times of stress for the coming of the lone, weary pilgrims, and in days of plenty has gladly shared his abundance with all who came.  And through it all, he was ever hopeful and loyal to this chosen home.
He has some faults, and many excellent traits.  Hospitality looked from his eyes and was written all over his massive frame.  Friendship was in his greeting and good cheer in his manner and this talk.  His laugh was comforting.  Some of us remember well, how pleasant it used to seem in the early morning, to hear his great resonant voice lifted up singing the old hymns while he walked back and forth through office, dinning room and kitchen, “brushing up a little” and “getting things ready for the brave, faithful wife to prepare breakfast, “Aunt Bet” he called her.  and she has earned a high commission by her wise and careful management of whatever wha allotted to her, in prosperity and adversity.
His friends, his neighbors, those who had bided with him, and the passersby will miss him in the doorway and on the porch and around the place.  And the rooms will seem lonely, with Uncle “Bill” not there.

~One who has camped with him for many moons.

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