Reminiscences of the writer

How vivid is my memory of the incidents surrounding the passing of Grandmother Nancy Linn Shaver. It was at our home that she succumbed to the ravages of pneumonia during her annual visit to her children.

As it was customary for relatives to gather about the death bed, the four sons, including my father and his family, waited in the sick room for the end to come. It was my first experience in a death chamber and
the thought of seeing someone die filled me with awe and fear as Grandmother gasped for her last breath, which sent her into her lasting sleep.

Having reached my teens in a city and accustomed to modern methods, the funeral of Grandmother was, to me, an odd and quaint sight. Early in the morning of the day of interment, which was made in Perry County, we, with several Methodist ministers, accompanied the body, leaving Altoona via the Pennsylvania Railroad to Newport, Perry County. Here we collected a few old time friends of our grandparents and then transferred to a narrow gage railroad, now extinct, which then boasted a "dinky” locomotive with a combination baggage and passenger coach.

As we left Newport, the crowded coach seemed too much a load for the little engine, and after moving slowly for a few miles, it suddenly gave “a huff and a puff” and died in its tracks as it attempted to ascend a
small incline in the roadbed. A suggestion to “get out and push" was not met with enthusiasm. A rest of about fifteen minutes revived the “dinky” and we slowly climbed the incline. Then we coasted down into a valley surrounded by woods, and it was here that I gleaned my first impression of how people of “ye days of yore" buried their dead.

The morning was dark and gloomy with a fine mist of rain and when the train stopped in this wooded gully we were met by a dozen horse-drawn vehicles and a buckboard wagon in which to carry the dead. There were just enough carriages to accommodate the cortege and to each was attached an old lighted lantern. It was an odd, interesting and intriguing sight to see those lanterns swinging back and forth with the motion of the carriages, the lights flickering as the carriages jolted over the muddy road. But by the time we arrived at the cemetery where her husband, Grandfather David Shaver and several children had been buried many years before, the rain had stopped, the clouds lifted and the sun was shining, making it an ideal Fall day for a country funeral. At the cemetery, solemn, eulogistic and impressive services consigned the body to its last resting place.

Following the consignment of the body to the grave we hastened to a nearby farmhouse where a sumptuous meal had been prepared. The table literarily groaned under its load of delicious and substantial food,
including, of course, the legendary favorite of ministers – chicken!

At the table I was, unfortunately, seated between two ministers. After the blessings and thanks for the food were completed the chicken started its course around the table. The minister to my left generously helped himself to chicken and then "Swish!" the chicken plate was whisked past my nose and watery mouth to the minister on my right. Not once, but several times the “Swish!” and whisking past my nose was completed until some kind lady, noticing my eyes and head follow the course of the chicken plate, supplied my plate with a drumstick. The meal was delicious, the chicken smelled delicious, and finally it tasted delicious.

After the chicken, a delicious pie, and other delicacies were disposed of, we started for home. Without incident we arrived back in Altoona, where the participating ministers separated and returned to their homes.

Return to Nancy Elliott Linn

Return to Rev David Shaver

See also sketches of Nancy Elliott Linn's mother, Agnes Elliott, her father, the Rev John Linn, and John Linn's second wife, Mary McClure.