Southwest Washington labor press. [volume] (Hoquiam, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1924-12-26

doctor and nurse stood to their tasks
without sleep or thought Of them
selves. If love and devotion could
have saved a man, then this man
must have lived to fight again.
When the long down grade began
the terrible gasping for breath eased
away and hope rose. Here It was
that word reached the train that the
report Of Mr.. Gompers' death had
been published in the United States.
The director general Of the Mexican
railroads telegraphed orders that the
train be stopped and held until he
could learn the truth. At q little
desert town the word was flashed to
the world that the leader Of American
labor still lived. And then the train
rolled onward toward the Rio Grande.
On the morning of the arrival at
the border it was realized that dan
ger was close at hand, but there was
hope on every hand that victory would
crown the great struggle. The gov
eminent which he had so well defend
ed was kind and thoughtful and a
swarm Of officials Facilitated the cross
ing of the international bridge. The
Mexican officials were no less Thought
full than the representative Of the
American government.
Carried Through Silent Throng
Then came the swift journey to San
Antonio. Just before reaching the
city of the Alamo the aged chief,
fighting gamely to the last, asked for
his clothes. But he was not to leave
the train dressed. He was not to bow
to applause. He was to be carried
gently from the train on a stretcher,
his eyes covered, through a close
pressed throng that was hushed with
an apparent sense of impending ca
lamity.
On the third floor of the st. An
thony Hotel the grim reaper stood
ready to lower the curtain, but merci-
fully patient in the performance of
his last dramatic rite. Doctors came
and consulted and went away--and
came again. Nurses came and stayed.
officials, friends and members of the
staff waited the outcome in trepida-
ton, silently moving about, going no
where. In the early morning hours
most of them sought a brief bit of
sleep.
But at 8 o'clock telephone bells be-
gan to ring and there were insistent
knocks on the doors. 'The chief is dy-
ing" was the message that brought
all to the great, somber chamber.
Here drama changed to tragedy.
Two doctors were doing all that hui
man skill could do to prolong life.
For an hour the little group stood,
watching the passing of this great
man, his friend and comrade. PrOpped
high on pillows, he lay there, uncon-
scious, fighting for breath, his throat
torn with a dry rattle, his eyes closed.
Then, after an hour had passed, the
lines in the brave old face eased
away, resignation took the place of
struggle, and with peace and salts !
faction written clearly over his coun- /
tenance, the leader of the great hosts
of labor passed away.
A faithful nurse pillowed his fall
ing head on her arm. She closed the
opened mouth. The muscles Of the
face began to take their final form.
With bowed heads and filed eyes, the
little group sadly filed out of the
room.
Final Journey Begun
The curtain had fallen. Samuel
Gompers had gone to the great, UNI
known beyond. His soul had been
given to his country, to live forever
as an inspiration and a guiding light.
His courage had been bequeathed to
the great army of labor. His wisdom
and counsel had passed to those who
had served with him, to use in some
measure, to seek to emulate in the
endless human struggle onward.
And then black draped train start
ed its sorrowing journey across the
plains and the hills, through lines of
stricken men and women. Always
there came to the stations throngs of
bent mourners, sad eyed, slow footed.
Always they filed past the great
bronze coffin. Always they brought
floral tokens of affection and sorrow.
The casket moved onward to the cid
fighting ground to the beat Of heavy
feet and the throb Of aching hearts.
And so to the grave. There the body
lies in repose. But the compassionate
soul and the fighting spirit have gone
to give Of their sympathy and their
strength to the great multitudes OF
humanity. They go marching Onl