Arizona weekly journal-miner., 1902-08-13
ANOTHER PIONEER GONE.
Uncle Dick Thomas of the Agua Fria
 Valley Passes Peacefully Away.

There are few people in northern Arizona who do not know Richard Thomas personally or by reputation For quarter of a century he has been Uncle Dick" to young and old, and few men gather in twice that that time so many friends and so few enemies. Indeed it can be safely said that he leaves behind him not one ill-wisher and scores who remem- Der him gratefully for kind words and help given in time of need.
 Uncle Dick came to the Agua Fria valley in August twenty-six years ago, ana has made his home there most of the time since. One trip he made back to his Michigan home in 1882, when he brought back west Ellen Sanders, the playmate of his boyhood. the faithful companion of his closing years, whose devoted care did much to prolong his life.
 For two years past Uncle Dick" has been nearly helpless with par alysis and on the evening of July 22 he fell while trying to go into the yard and broke his right hip. All possible care was given him but his age and physical condition were against him and he failed steadily till the end came at 10 o'clock the night of August 2.
 Uncle Dick" was a native of Bur llngton, Michigan, where his people were pioneers. Very early he pushed westward, crossing the plains to Cali fornia in 1852. From there he drifted north, packing and mining in Idaho and Montana when these states were largely unexplored territory.
 After seventeen years he returned to the east, but only for a brief and stay; the west called too strongly and he came back to it and made his home in the land he loved best.
 His home in the Agua Fria valley was for twenty years well known road station and Uncle Dick" and Aunt Nell' are fresh in the memory of many a tired and hungry traveller.
 Four years ago a great grief came to them in the tragic death of their foster son, Johnny Culver, who was killed by fall from his horse while driving cattle. To Uncle Dick" it was death blow. He was never the same man. He pined and failed in mind and body and for two years has been almost as helpless as little child.
 At the time of his death he was nearing his seveEty-sixth birthday, having beel born on the 11th of Oc- tober 1926. The funeral took place from the family home and he was laid to rest near the spot where he made his first stop on entering the valley twenty-six years ago.
 Throughout his last illness he was by his old friends and leighbors and the young people whom he had watched grow from The funeral service was cad by Miss Sharlot M. Hall.
 The End of the Trail. Sunset and the end of the trail; Here the last faint footsteps fail Ind 1 go on alone
 nto the untracked ways; :, who in other days
 3lazed many trail straight up To the peaks that touch the sun, But now is the climbing done. No more to my feet the trail, No more to my hand the rein; Io more-ah! never again The sun and the wind-and free; The far star over me.
 Is the wilderness called I went, Vow strong and solemn and low, l mightier calls, and l go. Nor guide nor compass nor sigh, Face out-to the uttermost dark Ind the roll of the storm wind, hark. 'aeon and dirge for king! life, 1 have loved you well; forget the rest when you tell: Here's one did not falter or quail, )r shrink at the end of the trail"