BIOGRAPHICAL
SKETCHES.
G. N. WAID.
This gentleman, the only surviving brother of Francis
C. Waid, and one of the leading farmers of Woodcock Township,
Crawford Co., Penn., was born in the township just named October 27, 1829.
He was married, April 30, 1855, at Woodcock, Crawford County, by James
A. Heard, Esq., to Mary J., born
August 15, 1835, daughter of Cyrus and Priscilla
(Gilbert) Bean, early settlers of Woodcock Township, formerly of
Bucks County, Penn. To this
union were born ten children: Iowa
(born January I8, 1856, in Lee County, Iowa, wife of Walter
Joslin, and living in Woodcock Township, Crawford Co., Penn.); Elizabeth
P. (born May 22, 1857, in Lee County, Iowa, wife of William
Riddle, and living in Bolivar, Allegany Co., N. Y.); Blanche
E. (also a native of Lee County, Iowa,
born December 22, 1855, wife of Augustus Anderhalt, and
living in Union City, Erie Co., Penn.); Greely
(born May 13, l861, died March 27, 1864); Grant N. (born
November 30, 1864); Ira C. (born December 2,
1867); Jennie L. (born July 25, 1870); Sumner
B. (born May 30, 1873); Lloyd G. (born
October 13, 1877); and Charlie F. (born
October 21, 1881).
Mr. Waid moved to Iowa in 1855, taking a span of good horses with
him, and bringing them back to Crawford County on his return home in 1860. While in Iowa he was visited in the spring of 1857 by his
parents, and in the fall of 1860 by his brother, Francis
C., who then for the first time saw "the West," and he
accompanied his brother and family on their journey fifteen days after
leaving West Point, Iowa, as far as Indianapolis, Ind., where he left
them, thence returned to Erie, Penn., by rail, and from there to Meadville
by stage. Mr. Waid's father
assisted him in buying a piece of land in Iowa, on which he built a house,
and which he farmed until his return home, but several years afterward
sold, as renting property so far away was not profitable.
Mr. Waid has resided, since 1865, on his present farm, located on
the Dickson road, four miles northeast of Meadville, and one mile north of
the Methodist Episcopal Church on the State road.
He has a saw-mill for custom work, which he operates during four
months in each year. He
enlisted during the war of the Rebellion, in July, 1862; received a bullet
through the lungs at the battle of Gettysburg, July 1, 1863, and was
honorably discharged on account of disability February 18, 1864.
Francis C. Waid, George N. Waid and George W.
Cutshall (brother-in-law of Francis C.) have traveled many
thousands of miles together.
In 1876 they visited the Centennial; in the fall of 1880 they had
the pleasure of visiting friends and relatives in Minnesota, Iowa and
Nebraska; and in December, 1883, they made a trip to Knoxville, East
Tenn., on which occasion Francis C. Waid's
mission was one of business, and to see his eldest son.
George N. Waid, in politics, is
independent.
[Above appeared in my first Souvenir, and the following was added
by myself in April, 1890. F.
C. WAID.]
After my brother and family returned from the West they lived with
father until the following year, when a home was built on the farm that is
located by an excellent never-failing spring.
This home they occupied till 1865 when my brother sold his interest
in the crops then on the farm, as well as his entire interest in father's
estate, both personal and real, I purchasing the same.
Up to the time of my brother's enlistment father and he did the
farming, also managing same till July, 1862; and while he was in the army
I assisted father in doing his farm work.
When my brother returned home, he and I worked the farm together
(till he moved to where he now lives), assisted in same by father, who
also directed us as to what was best to do in the way of planning on the
farm.
I am glad, to-day, that I always had my father's advice as long as
he lived. No one but myself
ever knew how much I missed his counsel when he was gone; but his memory
is blessed forever. During my
lifetime I have been highly favored as I think of my father's family, our
lives having all been spared till we were of the age of twenty-one.
What a golden opportunity was this for us to become acquainted with
each other here! Unceasingly
do I think of the many days, weeks, months and years we were permitted to
spend in that ever-to-be-remembered pleasant farm-house where a MOTHER'S
LOVE and a FATHER'S CARE never grew weary or ceased in the interest of
both the present and future welfare of their children.
But to again speak of my brother, G. N. Waid.
I have traveled more miles with him than with any other member of
our family; and I have traveled at different times with my parents and
each of my three brothers, thoughts of which events bring to me pleasant
recollections. But one may
ask--are there no ills in life? Was
life to us always smooth in the family, on the farm, at home, or abroad?
There is a cure for all the ills of life, and it is found in the
BIBLE. When we go astray,
confession is good for the soul. Faith
and repentance bring us to Christ, with whom we find forgiveness; and if
we are like Him, as we are required to be, we also will forgive one
another, and so fulfill the law of Christ.
Did you ever notice, after a storm, how beautifully the sun shines?
So in the Christian life we are so much nearer home if we abide in
Him.
My brother made a trip to Oklahoma on April 22, 1889 (the day of
the opening of that territory), in order to see the country, and with a
view of buying land or locating there; but, not being suited, he returned
home. Had I not been sick at
the time, at Freeman Tyler's place, in
Franklin County, Kas., I would have been glad to have accompanied my
brother on that trip. By
reference to page 90 in this book, the reader will find an account of our
delightful trip to Athens, Penn., and other places, the many thoughts of
which tour ofttimes bring to us pleasant recollections in our hours of
labor, like rays of sunshine smiling through a summer cloud.
On September 11 and 12, 1889, my brother was present at the meeting
of the G. A. R., which was then being held at Gettysburg, and on that
occasion also I would gladly have accompanied him, but my health at that
time was not of the best; moreover my wife and I had been invited to be
present at the celebration of the sixtieth birthday of my sister-in-law, Mrs.
M. J. Cutshall, which we had the pleasure of attending.
My brother has now also passed his sixtieth year, having reached it
on October 27, 1889.
In writing this sketch it occurs to me to say a few words on the
labor question--I mean early labor, or being taught how to work when a
boy. I have recollections of my twin brother and myself working
with a cross-cut saw, father or one of my elder brothers holding one end
of the saw and we the other. Many
a log was cut off in this way till we were large enough to make full hands
ourselves. Labor is something
I do not despise. What have
we that is not produced by labor? If
I were asked how to solve the labor question, I would reply:
"Could it not be solved by doing right? Everybody doing the same amount of labor they should or ought
to do, and follow it for a life-business?"
The saw-mill on my brother's farm was burnt April 13, 1888, and has
not been rebuilt. My wife Eliza
and I visited him on that day--her birthday.
Often since I have visited her grave, and while I write I think of
her blessed memory. Having
been absent from home several months, I found that the return of her
birthday reminded me of so much in our lives; and I was glad it was my
privilege and pleasant duty to visit her grave Sunday, April 13, 1890, in
company with my cousin, Ralph Roudebush, with
whom I was stopping in Blooming Valley.
Eliza, if living, would have been fifty-eight years of age.
The life of my brother, in regard to the various vocations of life,
has been as changeable as that of any other of our family.
Before he came of age he began work in the lumber country, since
when he followed that business to a considerable extent till the burning
down of his mill. At one time
he also followed peddling, selling wooden bowls, in company with Hosea
Smith, our nearest neighbor; and I think that he and Eleazar
Slocum were in partnership at one time.
Before his marriage he spent nearly a year in Michigan, lumbering
and working on the farm of his uncle, Gilbert Waid.
My brother, as is well known, was a soldier in the Civil war,
fighting valiantly for his country. Hosea
Smith, of whom I have just made mention, was in the same regiment,
the One Hundred and Fiftieth Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry, and was
instantly killed at Gettysburg (his remains being brought home and
interred in the Smith burying ground, which is half a mile south of State
Road, and in view of our home), while my brother was so severely wounded
in the same action that he had to lie on the field of battle, expecting
death every moment. It might
be asked by some: "Why
speak of this?" And my
answer would be: "Would
you ask me to pass over the greatest sacrifice in my brother's life
without making some mention of it?"
I honor the soldiers of our country, my brother certainly not
excepted; and I would like to add that I believe there were true, loyal
and brave men, not only in the army, but also at home, who did the best
they could for the preservation of our Union.
While I live let me honor the memory of the departed, and respect
the name of the living.
As I have recorded only a few items of my brother's life, gleaned
from the many which might be collected (did time and space permit), I will
add in conclusion, in copying from my diary of April 16, 1890, that on the
previous day I visited him, and that on my way to his residence I called
on the oldest person in our community--Aunt Maria
Long, so called by nearly everyone, who is now living with her
youngest son, John Long, near my brother's place.
Her home where she lived for many years up to last fall, on State
road, is near my own. She has
been in failing health many years, and I was glad, indeed, to see my old
neighbor yet alive. When I
informed her of the death of my Aunt Mary Ann
Simmons, of Jamestown, N. Y. (who died April 4, 1890, and whose
funeral was held on Sunday, April 6, 1890), she said:
"Pretty girl, I always liked her when I used to play with her;
how old was your aunt?" I
replied that she was in her eighty-eighth year.
"Well, I was older," Mrs. Long said, though not
intimating how much her senior in age.
I think Mrs. Long has been a pattern of industry, even down to her
present sickness. When my
wife and I came home in July, 1889, we saw her, over ninety years of age,
laboring with her hoe in the garden where I had so many years seen her
working. We stopped, and I
introduced my wife, and we were mutually pleased. This morning., while at the breakfast table at my brother's,
I remarked (as I observed the five boys all present): "Your boys are all at home, but your four girls, who are
all married, are absent." It
was a real pleasure to me to sit at table with them, a happy and contented
family.