Palisadian. [volume] (Cliffside Park, N.J.) 1906-current, 1916-10-14
Charles T. Logan, Jr.
And His Short Career
By His Father

There is just one other Palisade
boy whom l want to quote at this
time in connection with Charles. The
only boy who did anything at all at
the beginning of the cutting out the
trees in the swamp for the Play
grounds, was "Lal Gwiggins, then a
boy of some sixteen years, I believe
perhaps not over fifteen. Lal was
always one of charles best friends,
and the two got along together well
at all times. Lal was tutored in base
ball by Charles, and the two became
the pillars of several teams that rep
resented Palisade on the diamond.
Lal was another fine player who loved
the sport for what it represented, and
who was a gentleman on the field at
all times. In letter dated from Mil
waukee, September 80, he wrote:
81 could hardly believe it possible.
It was a terrible shock to me and for
the moment 1 could not believe the
words l read. l want you to know
you have my very deepest sympathy
at this time of your terrible loss. l
think l can conceive your feelings as
/ know mine about seven years ago
when ~ mother was taken away.
81 cannot imagine Palisade with
out Charles. He was so much OF all
the Palisade meant, and so vital
part of it. How you and every one
must miss him! Into every moment OF
welfare, leader in all sports and So
cial activities, it must seem una
tural not to see his black hair and
broad shoulders above the heads OF
every one.
GLOW the small boys miss him.
Always a friend of all, he was par
ticularly close to them, and they have
lost a friend whose place will be i'm
possible to fill.
81 was aways proud to call Charles
Logan my friend and very deeply re-
greet his going"
While he loved boys for the hap
piness he found in being with them,
and they were large part OF his ex.
istence, they did not constitute all OF
his affection.
If l had to name the dominating
passion Of my son l would divide 1t
between his love for his mother and
his home. For his mother, now sor-
row-laden, and faded in her unfathom-
able grief, his life was an expression
of her wishes. have already alluded
to how she was always his guiding
star. The lesson of his short journey
through life was based on filial duty
and loyalty. No matter what the
task, he never faltered, never tired OF
serving her. She was both mother
and sweetheart, and mention of the
little things he did for her happiness
would fill volume. am not willing
to admit that he ever was effieminate
in any sense except in the tenderness
of his feelings. If ever there lived
a boy of exquisite beauty of thought
and gentleness of heart, these virtues
certainly found exemplification in
him. While just human in all things
like the rest of us; while his finer
spun nerves at times found irritable
moods possessing his soul as they do
all human kind, all of his flare-up,
when they did occur, were for the
most part his balance-wheels to guide
him into smoother waters. Father
he has said to me many times, 81 am
sorry I spoke so hastily just now,
and he would come and kiss me as
affectionally when he was man
grown as when he was child. Always
his higher, spiritual side was assert
ing itself. l have often wondered If
the big boy would ever get over
being a child in feeling. To the day
of his death he never did. Simple
of taste and demeanor under all con-
ditions, he plodded along with his
spirit high, his thoughts close to ma
ture and God, his heart tender, his
lone innocent and pure, his aims lofty,
his purpose strong-get always he
was 'the same little boy" he so feel
ingly pictured in his mother-poem
which / never knew he had written
until he was in his grave.
It is for these reasons that l as an
adoring father have penned these
few chapters to the memory of a
loyal sons memory. His life here in
these Palisade woods has reminded
me often of the druids, those old
nature dwellers who were so close to
creation.
Godlike beneath his grave divinities,
The last of all their worshipers, he
stood.
The shadows Of vanished multitude