Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1917-02-23
HIGH TRIBUTE IS
PAID MEMORY OF
HERO MINISTER
Long, Silent Line of SorrOwing'
Friends Follows Body of
Rev. CASTOR R, Bdford to
Train

The body of Rev. CASTOR r. Buford
went home to Tennessee Monday night. |
A gray hearse bore II through the
streets of Atlanta, and behind the gray
hearse walked a long line of men and
women, the people who had loved the .
little minister and now were grief
stricken that they had lost him
There was never such a funeral pro- 1
cession in Atlanta before and never will |
be again, unless there passes one who 7
gave his life to the unfortunate and out |
cast of the world, and died. as he had
lived, the death of hero and martyr.
All day long the body had lain in
state at the church on Luckie street, |
where the little minister was pastor. |
The congregation of Moore Memorial
and hundreds and hundreds of others
had gathered there at o'clock for the
funeral services, and afterwards they
lad passed by the fiower-shrouded cas-
ket and looked on the white face beneath
the lilies.
Throughout the afternoon the stream
of people lessened at times, but never
stopped. Women so old they could
scarcely totter in, little girls in starched
dresses and hair braided down their
backs, men of prosperity and wreck of
men-they entered one behind the other
silent for the most part and often weep
ing bitterly.
The little church on Luckie street
seemed for the moment to have become
more than sacred. From all quarters
of the city people fiocked to its doors. las
twilight drew on, the crowd thickened
Here was little group of laborers from
the mills, steel muscled stalwarts who
could have made two of the lHtle min
lister but yet looked upon him as COM
rade and a man. among other men,
There was a huddled knot of strange
folk from the Assyrian mission, sloe-
eyed women wearing turbans of the
East and patriarchs with hooked noses
and long gray boards.
To these the little minister had been
a sort of father and they had wor-
shipped him almost as they worshipped
their God. And around the corner from
the church, separate and apart from
the others as though he sought to
shrink away and hide his sorrow, lit
tie boy leaned back against a wall with
his face to the sky, just leaned there
and sobbed and sobbed until his thin
little shoulders quivered back and forth
in a racking gale OF grief.
About 1880 o'clock a small group of
men detached themselves from the rest
and entered the church. They came out
shortly with the casket and placed it in
the gray hearse, an automobile hearse
that stood before the door with its en-
CINE throbbing in muff1ed beats, the only
sound that broke the silence of the
crowd and the night.
Slowly the hearse moved off down
Luckie street. Behind it the throng Of
men and women fell into line. pairing
off two and two as at a given signal,
though no instructions had peen issued
save the request that they accompany
the body to the train.
The night had come some time before
and il was very dark on Luckie street.
But there was no mist and it was not
cold. only soft and warm like summer
with the stars shining clear and high
above in the velvet blackness of the
sky.
Into Peachtree street crept the funeral
procession, and suddenly traffic ceased
and people on the sidewalks paused
quickly and removed their hats and stood
quietly with their heads bowed and a
reverent, almost wondering, look in their
eyes.
They did not need to be told what
this strange procession was. They knew
that 1t was the body of the little min
lister going home; and they knew part,
but not all, of the reason for the long
| line that followed the gray hearse.
1t stretched full seven blocks. thou
sand people in all perhaps-frst the
gray hearse, it's motor chugging so
slowly that il scarcely crawled then the
ministers of the city and the elders and
! the deacons of the little minister's
church and his brothers in fraternity,
and after that pair on pair of men.
They all had their hats off and they
stepped with a measured, solemn sort of
tread. The rear of the procession was
brought up by a group of women, and
behind them came three closed cars with
the widow of the dead man and his
little children.
Men of all conditions marched. The
sheriff and the chief of police marched;
| so did Migrants whom the little minis
| ter had hauled out of the gutter and
| given warmth and food and lodging.
! There were seven men strung together
in one place. so dirty and miserable and
SCARED with poverty that at any other
time their very presence would have
| been repulsive. Even now they were
not ennobled. but they inspired a great
| pity; for they were crying.
These men had laughed with a sheer
| at their own wretchedness, blubbered
| like little, hurt boys. The tears splash
| ed out of their rheumy eyes and made
| smutty streaks in the stubble of their
| faces. and in their sorrow was a bleak
| despair as though to them the world
| was doubly wretched now with its door
| barred against them and its windows
| fore been opened wide
| Yet these men and the others follow
ed the gray hearse all the way. 1t
stopped at the far end of the old depot
/ in Central avenue, while the men and
women grouped themselveh in the black
| shadows and talked in low, husky whis-
pers.
The stories of the little minister
went round in whispers and whispers,
h11t &C the organ sounded for the OPEN
ing OF The services, a silence fell on
the congregation and those who could
not get in the church but must wait out
side. took off their hats and bowed
their heads to the falling rain.
Down IN front of the church rested
the casket shrouded in a swirl Of flow
ers There were great wreaths from
No 3 fire department. from the Assyri-
an mission from the Presbyterian
churches and from the Bible schools;
and there were little punches of flow
ers somee of them fresh plucked from