JOSHUA B. CULVER 1870 & 1883

(From the Friday, July 20, 1883 weekly Duluth Tribune)

OUR MAYOR DEAD

A hush, a death silence comes over the exciting scenes that are passing, arousing our village to unwonted agitation, and upon the instant the uproar of contention subsides into the stilled and breathless quiet of the death-chamber. Our mayor is dead. Dead in a strange city; dead while yet a traveler and sojourner among strangers. As if painful stillness came hard upon the furious roar of a thunder burst; as if in battle the quiet catacombs followed the awful flash of the artillery's line and the shrieking musketry's fierce volley, or as when at work of command the upheaved sea silenced its fury and its tempestuous alarm sank into softer cadence than a lullaby, so fell a painful silence upon our village yesterday upon the instant it was made known our mayor had fallen by a shaft of death in a far off city, across and beyond the wide expanse of lakes. It is painful to record the words. But there is no escape. Death has closed the doors, and what is, must be told. Mayor Culver died suddenly at 2 o'clock p.m. at Buffalo, N.Y. Death came unannounced, and while he was in apparent strength. The telegraph brought the sad notice soon after, and there was mourning, deep, pervading and bitter all up and down the town. All exciting differences and contentions, all idle talk and vaporous discussion and running to and fro quieted into subdued bewailing, and even business itself assumed a mournful refrain, and drooped as if in sorrow. The village joined in mourning with one accord. Flags were hung at half mast in town and harbor, and symbols of bereavement were hung in many places. A good man was dead, a man whom the town had chosen to be its chief and executive. A worth man, a man whom all could honor and did. Mayor, citizen, neighbor and friend was dead. Truly it was the hour for mourning. The village was distressed, but what shall be said of the family? Better the sable drapery that shrouds the death-chamber ever, should fall about them and close them in from the eyes of others, even though there are none but eyes of pity that droop in sorrow, shedding tears with those who have bitter cause to weep over the body of husband and father. Leave them with their own deal. It is not for others to intrude upon such an hour and scene.

Elsewhere is recorded the particulars of this distressing death, together with a brief biography of the deceased -- Joshua B. Culver. In common with all citizens and all people the TRIBUNE expresses its profound grief over the lamentable death, a death that is a calamity to the place, and would tender also it profoundest sympathy to the stricken and bowed family.