Key to Abbreviations:
ae = age
assn = association
asst = assistant
b = born
bapt = baptised
bro = brother
bur = buried
ca = circa
cem = cemetery
ch = child
Ch = church
chren = children
co = county
conf = conference
corr = corrected/correction
CW = Civil War
d = died
dau = daughter
ds = days
Evan. = Evangelical
grfa = grandfather
grmo = grandmother
hosp = hospital
husb = husband
inf = infantry
Luth. = Lutheran
md = married
memb = member
Meth. Epis. = Methodist Episcopal
mge = marriage
mi = miles
MIA = missing in action
min = minister
mo = month
mos = months
Msngr = Messenger
nr = near
obit = obituary
pars = parents
poss = possibly
prev = previously
Prov. = Province
recd = received
Ref. = Reformed
regt = regiment
res = resides/resided
res prev = resided previously
ret = returned
Rev. = Reverend
S.S. = Sunday School
sic = exactly as printed
sis = sister
tp = township
vol = volunteers
w/ = with
wk/wks = week/weeks
yrs = years
-- in the PLACE or column indicates information not given
and could not be determined
----- = not stated
TERRIBLE ACCIDENT - COAD MC’DONALD’S DEATH. Results From Injuries Received By His Coat Catching On Set-Screw Of A Line Shaft In Flouring Mill Owned By His Father, George A. McDonald.
Our little town was in great excitement last Saturday afternoon at 3:30 o’clock, when it was learned that Coad McDonald, son of George A. McDonald, owner of the Brown County Roller Mills, had met with a most distressing and probably fatal accident. Coad, for some time, has been acting as engineer at the mill, and right well he performed his duties. As was his usual custom, at the hour of 3 p.m., he picked up the oil can and proceeded to oil the machinery. He wore a heavy hunting coat and while in a stooping position and in the act of oiling a bearing of the line shaft, a set screw which had slightly worked up and out of position, caught on the lower part of his coat. In an instant he discovered perilous situation. But, too late! To escape being drawn to the shaft was impossible. Realizing that his life was in danger he hugged the shaft to keep his head from striking the floor. With the rapidity of lightning he was whirled on the shaft, his feet battering the joists at every revolution. He cried for help and his cries were heard by a Mr. Haggard who was passing along the street. He hurried to the mill and before he reached it Clyde, a brother of Coad, heard his brother’s feet striking the joists and he thought the noise was made by a broken bolt. Clyde then hurried to the engine room and shut off steam; then saw his unfortunate brother in a horrifying position whirling on the line shaft, bound tight to the shaft with his hunting coat. “Are you hurt,” asked Clyde. “Look at my foot!” answered Coad. The foot was lying on the floor in a shapeless mass. “I am afraid you are fatally hurt,” said Clyde. “I know it," said Coad. “Tell Billie (Griner) how it happened and take good care of my dogs.” By this time many people had gathered at the mill. His hunting coat was cut loose from the shaft and he was carried home where Drs. J.F. Genolin and Ray Tilton examined his injuries. They found that they would have great trouble in saving his life. His right foot was mashed to a pulp and amputation was found necessary. The operation was performed at 7 p.m. by Drs. Genolin and Tilton, assisted by Dr. Ward of Georgetown. His left foot was also mashed in a horrible manner, his left shoulder and arm badly bruised and he received internal injuries. He lingered until Monday night at 11 o’clock when death came to his relief. During his 57 hours of intense suffering he did not lose consciousness, and an hour before dying he called his parents, sisters and brothers to his bedside and bid them good-by, telling them that he was prepared to die. The untimely death of the young man is a severe blow to the family. Coad was a happy hearted, genial and promising young man in his 21st year, and the accident is universally deplored by the people who have learned of the sad event. The sympathy of the entire community is extended to the broken-hearted father, mother, sisters and brothers, who sit in sorrow where his footsteps shall never again find echo. The funeral services were held at the Christian Church at 10:30 o’clock Tuesday morning. Elder O. A. Stump officiating. The casket was covered with the most beautiful floral designs loving fingers were wrought, all of which spoke of peace, purity and immortality. At the close of the services an unusual long procession followed the funeral car to our silent city – Greenlawn cemetery – where the remains were laid to rest. The pall-bearers were Professor Fuselberger, Lee Bright, Allen Tomlinson, Samuel Bradley, Dennis Calvin and Frank Colvin. Farewell, Coad. May God’s purest angels guard your slumbers. (Brown County Democrat – Dec. 5, 1907)
LAST NAME: Bagley FIRST NAME: Edith
MAIDEN NAME: Reynolds
BORN: 9 Feb 1870 D1ED: 13 Jul 1893 BURIED: 15 Jul 1893
BIRTH PLACE: The Dalles, Wasco Co., Oregon
D£ATH PLACE: Salem, Marion Co., Oregon
IOOF - Mrs. Edith Bagley, age 23 y's 6 m's 4 d's, d1ed in Salem of blo0d poisoning, wife of W. H. Bagley.
1870 OR CENSUS - Edith M. Reynolds, age 4 months [sic], b. Oregon, is enumerated with Dawson Reynolds, age 40, occupation farmer, b. Virginia, and Eliza E., age 30, b. Maine, along with Florence J., age 6, b. Minnesota.
1880 OR CENSUS - Edith M. Reynolds, age 14, b. Oregon, is enumerated as step-daughter, in the home of Robert Pentland, age 59, occupation miller, b. England, and Eliza E. Pentland, age 39, b. Maine, along with Ervin C. Pentland, age 23, mill worker, b. Oregon, and Florence J. Reynolds, age 16, b. Minnesota.
d1ed Salem, Thursday, July 13, 1893, Edith R., wife of W. H. Bagley, aged 23 years, 6 months and 4 days. Mrs. Bagley was sick about three weeks. She had trouble with her teeth which made it necessary to have several of them extracted and that was the beginning of difficulty that ended in blo0d poisoning and d£ath at 6:50 o'clock last evening.
Deceased, whose maiden name was Pentland [Reynolds], was born at The Dalles February 9, 1870. When seven or eight years of age she went with her parents to Scio, which was her home until her marriage with Mr. Bagley February 12, 1889. In 1885 Miss Pentland [Reynolds] entered Willamette university and two years later was graduated from the academic department and conservatory of music.
Mrs. Bagley leaves a husband, a daughter 3 1/2 years old, her mother, Mrs E. E. Pentland, a sister, Miss Florence Reynolds, a step-sister, Mrs. S. L. Brooks of The Dalles and a step-brother, E. C. Pentland of Independence. She was a faithful member of the First Congregational church. Her many excellent traits of character, her genial and even temperament and her graces of mind and person made her hosts
of warm friends at The Dalles, at Scio and in Salem where she was so well known. The funeral arrangements will be announced later.
Oregon Statesman, 14 Jul 1893, 4:4
July 13, 1893
Aged 23 Y's, 5 M's, 4 D's
Dearly loved on earth, early called to Heaven
IOOF Register of Burials
DAR pg 67
S&H pg 69
Saucy Survey & Photographs
1870 OR CENSUS (Wasco Co., W. Dalles, FA #152)
1880 OR CENSUS (Linn Co., Scio, ED 72, sheet 374C)
OS 14 Jul 1893 4:4
LOT: 801 SPACE: 3 SW LONGITUDE
The Cork Examiner, November 1856
AWFUL AND FATAL ACCIDENT.
On Wednesday, shortly after 11 o'clock, an awful and fatal accident, involving loss of one life, and more than probably that of another, took place in Beresford-street, Waterford. Two new houses are being built next to Mr. Roche's public house, nearly opposite the Roman Catholic Chapel of St. John's, the brickwork of which has been recently finished, and the rafters of the roof put on. This morning it was being slated by a man named Kearney, who had, as his helper, a labouring man named Edmond Power. A scaffold was erected close to the end of the house, the planks of which rested, in the centre, on an iron wall-hook driven into the brick work which, not being seasoned, is supposed to have caused the fatal accident. There was rather an unusual crowd about the locality at the time as a funeral was passing by, and on a sudden the people were startled by a loud crash coming from this building, and looking in the direction, they saw the scaffolding with the two hapless men coming to the ground. Melancholy to relate, Kearney was killed almost instantaneously, the other man still breathed, although scarcely in a perceptible manner. The dead body of Kearney was conveyed to his friends' house, in Stephen-street, there to await an inquest. Power has died of his injuries.—Waterford Mail
Carrie’s parents were deep in mourning
They had lost their daughter, without warning
Her mom moaned and wailed in deep sorrow
Her dad would call the funeral home tomorrow
Her mom looked down and in her head
She wondered, if Carrie could, what she would have said
If she could speak to them now, reach into their hearts
Tell them how they would cope, where could they start?
Her father looked down also and in his head
His mind was racing with a sense of dread
See, if Carrie could talk what she really would have said
Is, ‘Mom, please help me, he knows I’m not dead.’
26 days ago
I screamed in excitement as I received
an email stating that my application
The rest of my family cried out in despair knowing they weren’t
selected to board the last ship leaving our dying planet behind.
I Begged You
“Please, I am literally begging you,” I warn, but the executioner only sighs and
gives me a truly sorrowful look...
The chaplain sits beside me. “Once he pushes the button, death will come
soon after,” he explains, even though I have heard it so
many times before already. “Any final words?”
“Just, again, I tell you, begging you not to do this,” I say.
That’s the thing, though; I haven’t murdered anyone. It’s been this way my
The chaplain nods sadly, sorrowful that I do not face my executioner with a
That’s the thing, though. I haven’t murdered anyone. It’s been this way my
entire life. I don’t know why, but whenever I would accidentally hurt myself
others near me would receive the wound. I once got a paper cut in class that
caused the three people around me to bleed from their fingers. In high school, I
was in a car accident, and even though my side of the car was hit, my girlfriend
developed a broken leg.
I’m always very careful. I take care of myself, trying to stay in the very best of
health. But when I was mugged by that trio and he shot me in the face, theirs
exploded, not mine. And when the cops came, they found me kneeling by
their bodies, trying to figure out what to do and stupidly holding their gun.
Around thirty seconds after the execution started, I see both the executioner
and chaplain fall to the floor with a hard thump. “I told you,” I begged sadly.
The Cork Constitution, 22 November 1886
DEATH FROM ACCIDENTAL POISONING.
On Saturday Mr. Coroner Blake and a jury held an inquest at 4, York road, Blackpool, on a child named Timothy Donovan, aged 6½ years (the son of a cattle dealer), who had been accidentally poisoned. . . .
THE CONNAUGHT JOURNAL
TRALEE, DEC. 1 - A melancholy case of poison occurred on Saturday last. A man employed to poison rats at Oak-park, the seat of John Bateman, Esq., incautiously left behind him a cake made up for this purpose. A young woman named Ellen Moriarty, who lived at the Rock, in this town, and who received occasional employment at Oak-park, observing the cake, asked, and obtained permission of the maid servant to take it away; having returned home, and baked the cake, she ate some portion of it, and in two minutes after was taken violently ill. She remained in dreadful tortures for six or seven hours, when she expired, at the infirmary, whither she had been conveyed. The cake was composed of flour, sugar and arsenic.
We understand that the unhappy sufferer was to have been married on the very day on which her existence so miserably terminated.
Galway, Monday, December 6, 1824
Horror Short Story: The Accident
In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done.
Written by: Reddit user Minnboy
Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated.
An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas
and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home.
Why did you run? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now?
Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me.
There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer.
He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss..."