William H. Goad – One by one we shall be gathered home, as was our dear brother William H. Goad, son of Peter and Lucretia Goad, who was born September 15, 1852; died September 30, 1917, aged 65 years and 15 days.
He was married to Clarsie E. Horton, and to which union were born 11 children, 5 sons and 6 daughters, and 5 of whom are now members of the Primitive Baptist church.
Brother Goad suffered from cancer of the stomach for about five months, and was treated by five different physicians, and received the most tender care from his son (Elder J. P. Goad) and wife, with others of the family.
He asked Elder Goad to look after his mother and the two single girls, and to help them take care of their little crop. He told how and where he wished to be buried, and requested that Elders J. D. Vass and D. Smith Webb preach his funeral, and said the doctrine of God our Savior, as they set it forth, together with Elder J. P. Goad, would stand.
Brother Goad received a hope in Jesus and joined the church at Harmony, in 1903. He, like James of Old, showed his faith by his works, living a good and faithful member to his church and pastor, doing with his might whatsoever his hand found to do. He sacrificed time and means that he might go to hear the gospel, showing that he loved things which he once hated, and hated things which he once loved. He said he had said hateful things which had, probably, hurt the feelings of some, things he ought not to have said. He said he had the same hope, which was all he had, and prayed to die. He would ask; how long shall I have to suffer? He said he did not fear the next world. Bur he felt that he would be cool and easy. So, as his life ebbed low and the shackles of mortality quivered, he said he thought he could hear bells ringing. Thus he passed the riggid gate of death without a struggle. “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”
On Monday, October 1, 1917, at 1 o’clock, Elders J. D. Vass and D. Smith Webb preached a most wonderful funeral, after which his body was laid to rest to the weary.
Octavia J. Goad