Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1924-02-05

DRY, and the whole machinery OF
the government, whose guiding ge-
MUS he was for eight momentous
years, will stand still on the day
of his funeral.
Today the frayed remnant of his
mortality lies in The chamber whose
walls looked down yesterday upon
the last scene of a career that had
known all the heights and depths
of human emotion. In death he ap-
pears as if in peaceful sllmber. his
features serene and composed and
his squared jaw set with the old de
termination. But the lines are
somewhat deeper and heavier, and
the flashing fire of his eye had gone
out forever.
Falls Into Final Sleep
The bed on which Woodrow Will
son died and where his body rests is
of massive oak, a reproduction Of
the bed built at the White House
for Lincoln and used by every presi-
dent since. 1t is of unusual length
and has a golden American eagle
over the head. 1t was made to the
order of Mr.. Wilson before he re-
|
installed in the S street house he
had selected as his future home.
Although he had not known a we'll
day since he crossed the threshold
of his place of retirement, or for
months before, last Friday saw tie
beginning of the end of his long
illness. His collapse during his
western speaking trip in 1919, fol-
lowed by a stroke of paralysis soon
after his return to Washington, had
made him almost an invalid long
ago. Early last week a slight diges-
| tive disorder further weakened his
delicate vitality, and on Friday his
friend and physician, DR.. Grayson.
found his condition growing hourly
more serious. He refused nourish-
ment, and by Saturday night he was
| barely conscious. At 8 o'clock he
fell asleep, and never Weakened
again. 1t was at 11:15 a. m. that
he died. From first to last he was
without pain, and in his last wake
ful moments he appeared to be rest
ing in complete comfort.
| Mrs. Wilson At Bedside
AS the end approached the little
! group watching in the sick room.
! drew nearer about hin.
Mrs. Wilson sat on the bed beside
! him, with his almost lifeless hand
! in both hers. Close by was his eld-
est daughter, Margaret Wilson; and
/ DR.. Grayson, faithful in his minis
trations since the first sign Of i'll
ness more than four years ago,
! watched for some new way at least
! to help him as he crossed the bar.
But there was nothing to be done.
! More and more feeble became the
| beat; there was a quickening
of the breath; little by little death
was completing its conquest. A
quick flutter of the eye-lids, a faint
| witch, almost like a smile, across
| the wasted features, and the spirit
| of the great war president had burst
at last the long weakening letters
that bound 1t to earth.
Thus, he who had dreamed q
high dream of peace for all the
! world had found peace for himself.
and bad left behind a world still
tossed by strife and turmoil.
Thus he against whom life had
/ turned at last, after leading him
! through paths of greatest glory.
! found death gentle and even merci,
| full
Thus, with the soft chanting of
! hymns floating in on the Sabbath
! air. was written the last letter Of
| that imperishable chapter of humaa
| history comprising the life OF Wood
row Wilson.
! Official Announcement
! DIR. Grayson, his friend and ply
| sician, announced the end Of the
! great war president in this bulletin:
Mr.. Wilson died at 11:15 O'Clock.
| His hearts action became feebler
and feebler, and the heart muscle
was so fatigued that it refused to
act any longer. The end came
peacefully.
THE remote causes Of death lie
| in his i'll health. which began more
! than four years ago, namely: gen.
eral arterio-sclerosis with haemo-
| pligia. The immediate cause o.
! death was exhaustion following 4
/ digestive disturbance which began
( in the early part of last week, hut
/ did not reach an acute stage uEtil
/ the early morning hours of Feb
ruary l."
i Last Friday the grim reaper had
| forced his way INTO the house after
/ waiting on the doorstep more than
l four years. Saturday he had ad-
vanced to the landing on the stair
case 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
! 9 O'Clock he ratified the knob and
1 called to the peaceful, PROSTATE fig.
/ ure On the bed
The watchers knew the battle was
/ lost. At the portal of tue door now
Continued on Page 6, Column ~