Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1941-07-11
FUNERAL RITES OF CADET
MEARS ON SATURDAY
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are, and he was enthusiastic in the
service of his country.
Friends of the deceased expressed
their sympathy not only in attendance
but in a profusion of floral tributes
"a lavishness seldom seen Of beauti-
full and costly blooms, arranged in all
sorts of appropriate emblems. His
last resting place was surrounded and
covered by the multitude of wreaths,
sprays, and special designs.
Rev. H. V. Clary, former rector of
St. Mary's Church, but now of Blue
field, Va, conducted the service in
most impressive way. Lieut.. Ar
thur Cassidy, of the Miami Naval Sta
ton, accompanied the body here, and
at the services at grave folded the
flag and it now is in possession of
the Church. The pallbearers were:
Mac Littleton, Frank Matthews, Far
rell Bowen, Jr., William Vincent, Jeff
Wilkins, and John Bell Cullen, high
school classmates.
Bill Cunningham, writing in the
Baltimore "News Post" tells of an
incident which parallels the above so
closely that it is appended to show
that many person grieves but they
do not grieve alone. Other communi-
ties have their burdens to bear. Cum
ningham's article FLOWS:
He was one of the incest kids who
ever lived, clean, handsome, clear of
eye, fine mother and father, nice
home on one of the better streets in
our town, fine record in high school
and a brilliant one in college, where
he socked the books conscientiously
and made the athletic teams, finding
time enough, regardless, to make
friendships due to be warm and last
ing.
One thought of all that, as the
clergyman talked, almost informally
it seemed almost pleasantly. He re-
ferred to him by his nickname there
in the hushed place that smelled SO
heavily of flowers.
He reminisced about his boyhood ir
the neighborhood in the Sunday
School, there amongst the young fel.
lows he'd grown up with, and the
girls he'd gone around with. His
father and mother sat there bravely
tearlessly. Their boy, after all, was
a soldier. This was serving ones coun.
try. This was what they were called
upon to do. The lad had volunteered
for the Air Corp. He was the type
the finest type.
Straight from college he'd gone
and he'd finished his ground work
He'd finished it with such honors, il
fact, that he was the first selected tt
fly. It was his first flight, his first
trip off the ground in a training
place. He wasn't even flying it. HI
was only the passenger. The instruc
tor was taking him up just to give
him the feel. Something went wrong
Nobody now would ever know what
for it was that sort of crash.
The minister finished. Just befort
they put the casket away the hand
some young cadet who'd accompanied
it from the distant place stepped for
ward, reverently folded the flag o,
our country that had enshrouded i
through the long ride and the ser
vices, and, walking across to tn
mother, he came stiffly to "Atten
ton" and saluted her as if she'd beer
the nations ranking major general.
Placing the flag in her tense whit
hands, he said:
"Please accept this as a tribut,
: from Selfridge Field"
Outside no June day was ever NOR
, beautiful. Nature never seemed NOR,
sweetly at peace. A finer American
home was never so suddenly broken
greater kid with more friends new
or more suddenly taken from lau0h