The circle banner. [volume] (Circle, Mont.) 1914-1939, 1924-02-08
End Came Sunday Morning at 1915
O'Clock In His Washington
Home
First News of Wilson's Death Receiv-
ed at Circle Via Radio 40 Minutes
After Having Passed Away

WASHINGTON, Feb. BY the A.
P.-Former President Woodrow Will
son died at 11:15 o'clock this morn
ing.
The end was peaceful, life ebbed
away while he slept.
A tired man, he closed his eyes
and sustained and soothed by an
unfaltering trust, passed ON to the
Great Hereafter like one who wraps
the drapery of his couch about him,
and lies down to pleasant dreams"
DR.. Grayson, his friend and ply
sician announced the end of the
great war president as follows:
'Mr. Wilson died at 11:15. His
hearts action became feebler, and
feebler, and the heart muscle was
so fatigued that 1t refused to act
any longer. The end came peace
ably.
Last Friday the grim reaper had
forced his way into the house, after
waiting on the staircase, and stood
counting off the ticks of the great
clock. Saturday night he knocked
on the chamber door. A faithful
physician and loyal wife stood with
their backs against it. At 8 o'clock
he ratified the knob and called to
the peaceful, PROSTATE figure on the
bed,-a great bed, long and wide,
replica of the bed In which Abra-
ham Lincoln slept In the White
House, with a golden American
Eagle and tiny silk American flag
just over the head board
The watchers knew the battle
was lost. At the portal of the door
now open, the faithful negro servant
hovered. On the bed, sitting be-
side her husband, sustained with all
the fortitude and composure of a
woman facing q crisis, was Mrs.
Wilson, holding between her hands
the wan, withered right hand that
had proved the pen mightier than
the sword. Near the foot or the bed
was his eldest daughter, Margaret,
resigned to the inevitable. Close
by, tears yelling from his eyes and
coursing down his cheeks, was Dr.
Grayson, taking the measure of the
fluttering pulses, weaker and fainter
with each effort.
Death advanced and beckoned for
the last time. The tired, worn out
man drew long breath, there was
slight flutter of the eye lids, an
almost imperceptible twitch of the
nostrils.
Woodrow Wilson's soul had drift
ed out on the great dark tide that
runs around the world.
Realizing fully that he could not
hope to rally from the onslaught
of the digestive disorder which had
sapped his strength, weakened his
heart and accentuated the condition
which followed his stroke of para
lysis. Mr.. Wilson watched for
moment when all except DR.. Gray
son were out of his bed chamber,
when he murmured with some
difficulty of articulation:
The old machine has broken
down. You've done your best for
me. But it's better that should
go than to live on helpless invalid.
Tell Mrs. Wilson l want her. I'm
ready"
All this was without show of
emotion, but In his usual measured
habit of speech. Mrs. Wilson came
at the physicians call, and spoke
for several moments with her hus-
band, during which he committed
to her some last wishes He never
spoke a complete sentence after
that, and merely was able to
whisper 'yes"and mo- to gentle
inquiries of how he might be. made
more comfortable. Until Saturday
night he was able to recognize those
about him. With the last sinking
spell Saturday night, hover, he fell
into state of complete prostration
and fitful slumber, In which his vital
ity very slowly but surely ebbed out.
This morning found his pulse flutter-
ing more feebly until the end.
President Coolidge called at the |
house of bereavement in the after !,
noon, expressed his regret and readi- |
ness to be helpful and then issued a
proclamation of thirty days official |