The Augusta Cemetery Family Trees

Published in the Ohio Repository, Thu 29 Dec 1880, pg 4, col 2 SUDDEN DEATH----Thomas Kinsey, a resident of Augusta, O, aged about 70, and an Englishman by birth, was found dead in his hay mow about 12 o'clock yesterday, having died of heart disease while in the act of throwing down hay to his sheep. He was a member of the Masonic fraternity, and that order will have charge of the funeral services, which will be held tomorrow at 11 o'clock. The deceased was also a member of the Odd Fellows.

Published in CARROLL COUNTY CHRONICLE, Friday, Jan 7, 1881 THOMAS KINSEY MEMORIAL ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE AUGUSTA LODGE, NO. 499 I.O.O.F. AT ITS REGULAR MEETING, JANUARY 1ST, 1881, BY WM. M. ROACH, P.G. PUBLISHED AT REQUEST OF THE LODGE. The special hour for memorial addresses having arrived, Brother Roach arose in his place and addressed the Lodge as follows: Noble Grand and Brethren: I beg that you will bear with me but for a few moments. I am sure that it is not that I would wantonly waste the time of this lodge that I crave permission to lay upon an honored bier a wreath of “Cypress and bay,” and also to bring my personal tribute to the memory of an old friend. ‘Tis meet that we should pause for a moment in our deliberations, and sit in silence and uncovered heads beneath the passing cloud of sorrow. We are constantly reminded, as from time to time, we are summoned to attend at the bed-side of the sick, or as day after day we are called upon to follow our fellow creatures “to that bourne whence no traveler returns” of that sovereign decree, “it is appointed unto man once to die.” The fiat of nature is inexorable. There is no appeal for relief from the great law which dooms us o dust. We flourish and fade as the leaves of the forest; and the flowers that bloom and wither in a day have no frailer hold upon life than the mightiest monarch that ever shook the earth with his footsteps. “In the midst of life we are in death.” For the third time within the history of this body has the great gavel fallen in the Celestial Lodge, and the places that once knew our Venerable Kinsey “shall know him no more forever.” Brother Thomas Kinsey is dead. “Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the North-wind’s breath, And stars to set—but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!” As the mid-day sun was nearing its zenith on the 28th day of December 1880, the deceased was suddenly and perhaps without warning stricken down by the hand of death, and his spirit, tired of earth and its toils, took its flight to that land where sorrow and tears, sickness and death are never known. The summons was as unexpected to us, his brethren, as to him and we were for an instant paralyzed by the sudden blow. Alone and away from family and home, with no kind hand to raise the head or soothe the aching brow; with no one near to catch his dying words, our brother laid down by the wayside to rest—sweet rest. How many of us will ever forget the sadness and melancholy feeling that settled over us as we realized for the first time, that our little circle, growing smaller, from day to day, was again broken—that our brother whom we all honored and loved was gone from us no more to return. But his voice is hushed. His chair is vacant. No more shall our hearts be gladdened as we see him enter this room and take his place around our altar; no more shall we listen to his kind greetings and words of cheer. I remember the last time our brother met with us. It was a sacred hour. Would that I had known it was to be the last. We were not expecting or looking for him. Lodge had not opened—he always came early. There were some six or seven of us seated together. We heard him enter the ante room; he waited there but a moment, the inner door opened and our aged brother entered. Oh! What joy filled our hearts as we looked up and beheld that aged head covered with the snow of many winters. Instantly all were on their feet. Bros. Turnipseed, Trogler, Cunnigham, and others whom I do not now recall—each striving to reach him first—each anxious to out do the other in their words of welcome. I shall never forget that night. We all gathered around the noble form of that old Patriarch. For nearly half a century had he been laboring in the cause of suffering humanity under the banner we love so well, and although he had during that time formed other associations, he failed not to remember his first love—our order. For this he had our respect—nay our love. Brother Kinsey was born in Chischestershire, England, July 21, 1806, and was at the time of his death in his 75th year. Leaving his birthplace, the home of his boyhood with all its associations, he emigrated to the United States, landing in New York, November 2nd, 1830. In a short time after, we find him in Pittsburgh, where he remained for some two or three years. It was while in Pittsburgh he first visited this place. He came then as the bearer of a message, coming through on foot, as there was no communication between any point near here and Pittsburgh at that time. He only remained here a few days when he returned. From Pittsburgh he next finds his way to Cincinnati. How long he remained we are unable to ascertain. We next hear of him in Covington, KY, where he remained until some time in 1835, when he again found his way back to Augusta and from which year his residence here dates. It was during that year that he married a Mrs. Jane Johnson, whose husband had died some time previous and who was at that time keeping what was known by the name of the “Western hotel.” After his marriage with Mrs. Johnson, the deceased assumed the role of landlord. The name of “Kinsey” and the “Western Hotel” became known by all the traveling community for miles around, and many of them have traveled miles out of their road to get to pass a night or eat a meal at his house. Shortly after the death of his wife which occurred in March, 1863,the deceased having gathered together enough of this world’s means to provide comfort for the future, gave up his old tavern stand and devoted his time to looking after his farm and to travel. In 1870 he concluded to visit his native land. His travels there extended over the greater part of England and Scotland, and it was while on one of these visits at Inverness, Scotland, in 1871 that he married Miss Christina Campbell, who with four small children survive him. In June 1871, Brother Kinsey and wife, returned to our midst. Having previously sold the old tavern stand he repurchased it, and has since used it as his private dwelling. The history of our departed brother as an Odd Fellow may be briefly told. He was initiated into the Mechanics Lodge, No. 3, Pittsburgh, Pa., during the year 1831 or 1832—48 years ago. From this Lodge he asked for and obtained a withdrawal or a clearance card. On his arrival in Cincinnati his card was deposited for a short time in one of the three lodges there. Removing to Covington, Ky., and knowing the benefits of the order, he again obtained his card and deposited it in Covington Lodge of that city. With this Lodge he held membership until the year 1870, at which time he asked for and obtained his card in order that he might unite with Minerva Lodge 222. In 1871 Augusta Lodge was instituted and in December of that year he moved his membership from 222 to this, since which time his home has been with us until the day of his death, when at his own and wife’s request we were called upon to perform the last sad rites which the living owe the dead. As a citizen he was upright, conscientious, and exact in all his dealings. As a man in all his relations of society, whether in his domestic or more enlarged circles, no cloud dims a page of his history. Of his religion—what shall I say? Since his death, near where he was wont to, set while doing his morning and evening milking, there was found, under a board on a shelf and within easy reach, a leaf from an old time-worn Hymn book. Did this contain his belief and rule of action? Was this his creed? I quote from that leaf—listen: Be our strength for we are weakness, Be our wisdom and our guide; May we walk in Love and Meekness, Near to our Saviour’ side, Naught can harm us While we thus in thee abide. Thus when evening shades shall gather, We may turn our tearless eye; To the dwellings of our Father, To our home beyond the sky, Gently passing to the happier land on high. Blest beyond all earthly blessing, Is the child whose tender youth, In the Lord a guide possessing Walks in ways of light and truth. He will govern those who love him, Those who walk in faith and fear; In all danger still shall prove him Gracious, kind and ever near. Heavenly Father let us prove thee, An all wise protecting friend; Make us fear thee, make us love thee Constant to our latest end. How often has our dead brother read and repeated these sacred truths and supplications? How often has his hoary head, silently and unseen, save by the Great Father—been bowed in fervent prayer to the Great Giver of all? How often has his mighty chest heaved from inward emotions, as on bended knee, and with outstretched arm he has asked that “Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven?” Like all humanity he had his frailties, but the tomb enfolds them with the body. We cherish only the memories of his virtues. Our brother’s time had fully come. The three score years and ten, marking the ordinary period of human life, had been passed, when full of honor, he passed away worthy of the honor, let his name be added to the roll of our illustrious dead, where it will be still preserved when the marble above him shall have mouldered away. My brothers we have lost an able, an honest and a true man. I knew him intimately. Sadly I offer this humble tribute to his virtues and memories, and admonish you “be ye also ready.” To the widow and orphans bereft in the death of our brother we tender our deepest sympathy, and pray that God in his great mercy may take them under His kind and protecting care.