Letter written by Georgina Broeker - Harris County Texas John Hendry 13 May 2001 ************************************************************************** USGENWEB NOTICE: In keeping with our policy of providing free information on the Internet, data may be used by non-commercial entities, as long as this message remains on all copied material. These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced in any format for profit or for presentation by other persons or organizations. The submitter has given permission to the USGenWeb Archives to store the file permanently for free access. Persons or organizations desiring to use this material for purposes other than stated above must obtain the written consent of the file contributor. ************************************************************************** Transcript of a letter from Georgina Broeker, the married daughter of the late Henry E. MacDonald of Houston, Texas, following her fathers death, to her Uncle Roderick now settled in Melbourne, Australia. Houston Heights, Texas, July 1st-08 Mr Roderick MacDonald, Melbourne, Australia. Dear Unce Roderick:-- I hope you will not think hard of me for not writing to you before but I could not write at the time brother Louis did for I was prostrated with grief and could not. I received such a 1oving and sympathetic letter from cousin Margaret yesterday and it was filled with such beautiful talk of papa about what she knew when he was a young man. I have just finished writing to her and will write you a few lines, but it takes all the courage I can command to write about dear father. There isn't words sufficient to express our grief. It was such a sudden shock that it has n early killed mother and she is nearly prostrated with grief. Uncle Roderick, we did all we could do for father- all that doctors could do - all that nurses and nursing could do was done but it was of no avail. He passed away and Oh, how we miss him at home. He was alway so bright and happy and had a smile for every one. No matter how tired he was when he came home at night from work he always had a smile for us, and Oh, uncle, how I miss him. I want to tell you uncle, that I believe what cousin Margaret wrote me was true. She said, "He may have been foolish at times, but he was a thorough christian in his youngdays and he could not forget the past.” He always talked of God and quoted passeges from the Bible, and, just before he lost consciousness his face lit up with a smile that covered his whole face, just, like the -2- sun rising on a beautiful May morning. He lived just a little while and then was gone. While he was sick he always called for mamma and would not let her out of his sight. He did not leave a message to any one but you, and he regretted that you did not write to him. In my 1st letter to cousin Margaret, I wrote her to write to you and ask you to write to father for it seemed such a difficult task for him to write. He always said it hurt his head. I have seen him get his stationery and pen and ink and try to write but he would rub his head and say, “I can't get my mind together to write- I will have to wait until another time" and in that way he would put it off from time to time until I would feel sorry for him and wrote the few lines to you that I did. Every letter that he received from you made him so happy and he would smile and read it and it seemed to please him beyond words. Uncle Roderick, I feel that I cannot finish my letter until I tell you how he looked after he entered his last sleep. He was the most beautiful corpse you ever saw in your life. Such a fine looking man and you could not believe that he was dead. He looked so calm and peaceful just as if he had gone to sleep. He was so fond of the fresh air and always slept on the porch where he could get the breeze. Uncle, it seemed if the wind knew that he was gone and that while alive he loved the breeze and fresh air, for the last two days that we had him with us it was such a beautiful breeze, the curls on his forehead fanned with the wind. We would not let him be put into the cascet until the day of the furneal. Wwe wanted to see him here himself, just like as if he was sleeping until the last minute because he did not look like he was dead. Oh, uncle, while I am writing to you, the tears are running down my cheeks and I can scarcely write. Mother says, "Every day I miss him more”, also that she will never be able to get over his death. -3- Uncle Roderick, I do not believe a man was ever loved among his shop mates as papa was. They all came to look at him and every one said "That just looks like Mac; we cannot believe that he is dead. He does not look like a man of 62 years. He looks as if he were only 45 or 50 years at the most.” The head man of the shop thought so much of him and came to the house to see him. His Foreman, came also. He thought there was nothing like Mac. The Machines Union selected the pall bearers, and in some way the Foreman was omitted and he came to us and just begged us to let him be one of the pall bears. He not only came once but two or three times until we communicated with the Union and had one or the number selected omitted and let the Foreman take his place. All the men considered it a great honor to help carry him to his last resting place. I tell you Uncle Roderick, a man with a bigger and kinder heart never lived. For every subscription that was raised for a good cause, he would contribute to it. He gave to the orphans, widows, sick ones, homeless, starving, needy, and to any one that was in need of help of any kind, no matter what creed, even if he would do without himself. He only had one fault, and we must forget that now, (although every one knew it and thought just as much of him). The world I know is better for him having lived in it. The very night before he made that fateful mistake he sang that song, I think it is entitled “You can win a bonnie lassie when the kie came hame”. I am sending you the last photo of father. It is not a good one but it is the last. It is about ten years since he had one taken and it is the very first he had taken since he had his beard shaved off. He looked so different without his beard. The picture is one taken of the garden. If you remember the photo we sent you not long ago of the home with mother on the gallary, the garden is just to the left. Papa had a lot next to the home and he planted it in vegatables and grapes in the center. He made such a pretty arbor. That garden was the pride of his life. He would get up early in the morning before he would go to work and work in the garden. Just as soon as he would return from (page 4) work he would eat his supper and go out in the garden and work until dark. Consequently, he had one of the finest gardens in Houston Heights. Every one would stop and admire it and talk to him about it if he was in it Recently, a gentleman moved here from the northern part of the United States where it is cold the greater portion of the year and where vegetables do not grow like they do in Texas. The man is a real estate man and and is anxious to advertise Texas. He is interested in the gardens of the Heights and one day he came, or morning rather, he came to the house and said he wanted to take a photo of the garden as it was the finest garden he had seen at Houston Heights. Papa had been at work for some time in the garden. (He rose earlier than usual that morning on account of the shops laying the men off, on account of the dull times. They would just work a few days a week). It was six o'clock and the sun was just rising. Papa was just as delighted as a child and stood in the front of the garden holding a bunch of grapes. But that morning the man was not interested in taking papa’s photo as he was to get a view of the garden, for he was to come in a few days and get a better view of papa but he failed to come and this is the only one we have of papa taken within the last ten years. He was in his working clothes and looks as natural as can be. Mamma says to tell you “That papa was taken in his vineyard, but now he is in the vineyard of the Lord.” I will now close for this time and trust to hear from you soon. With love and best wishes, I remain, Your affectionate neice., me Mrs G. Broecker P.S. - I am enclosing you a little stamp picture or myself. It has been a long time since you have had one from me. Papa thought there was no one like "Georgie" as he called me and thought the sun rose and set in me. He just idolised me and thought there was no one like me. G. B.