I wanted to share a life story our Grandmother Beatty told about her experience of the death of her never-to-be six year-old son Bobby. In October of 1919 or 1920, 5 year-old Bobby was following his mother's instruction to check on their barking pet when he encountered a stray dog at their front door. It was such a small injury--just one stitch closed his upper lip--and it healed perfectly. After consulting four different doctors, Grandmother took their words of assurance to heart. "Oh, I don't think you have anything to worry about
The move to a new home in a different city one week before Christmas meant packing the belongings of their five children who ranged in age from 8 years to 23 months. The holidays were upon them, with all the excitement of gifts, food, and visits with extended family. Several days after their move, Bobby became nervous and agitated. Two days before Christmas, Grandmother Beatty called the family doctor and he came for a house call. The following is her word-for-word recollection taken from a recorded interview.
[The doctor] walked over in the bathroom and sat on the edge of the
tub and put his head in his hands and he cried. He said, "I can't believe
this. I don't believe this is happening. I've never seen anything
like this." And he had another doctor examine [Bobby] and gave him
tests for meningitis and different things.
So [Bobby] stayed home for . . . oh, I don't know . . . it was one or two
days. Dwight and I took turns holding him and rocking him. I didn't
feel afraid of him. He was normal, except he couldn't go to sleep.
He couldn't close his eyes. He couldn't relax. And I'd say,
"Now, Bobby, I'm going to close my eyes and go to sleep. You see if you
can't rest and go to sleep." And he'd try.
I sang all the songs to him. He'd always gone to Sunday School,
and I always did a great deal of singing; songs like 'Jesus Loves Me'
and 'Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam' and 'Shine Like a Little Candle in
the Night' and all those songs. Finally, after I'd sung everything I knew,
he looked up at me. He said, "Mother, there's one thing you forgot."
I said, "What's that, Bobby?" He said, "Why, it's 'God Be With You Till
We Meet Again." He was composed, but he couldn't relax. See,
rabies destroys the nerve centers. But as long as he was home, he didn't
have any spasms.
Well, the next day then--Dwight held him. He came in about 2 o'clock
[in the morning] and said, "Now, Mother, you go lay down now. Get some
rest. I'll hold him until morning." And while Dwight was holding him, [Bobby] said, "Daddy, a man came to me all dressed in white; and he had a
big book in his hand, and I wrote my name in his book." Now I know that
that child had never heard that from the Bible. They went to the
Prebyterian Sunday School, and they didn't teach that kind of . . .. I
don't know where he ever heard that. But that's what he said
to Dwight.
When the doctor came that morning, he said, "Well, there are going to
be some rough times ahead. We'd better take him to
the hospital."
My father was there. That was the day after Christmas then. My
father was there and I know [Bobby] had some new slippers. They had all
gotten new mocassins for Christmas, and he had a new sweater. He said,
"Oh, Grandpa, don't I look nice?!" See . . . he would have been six on the
second day of February. He was a bright little youngster. He was, I
think, the best looking of any of our children. . . . That was the
last time I saw him then, because they said I couldn't [stay with him in] the
hospital. The next evening he began having convulsions. . . .
Then he finally--succumbed.
But, I don't know. It was such an unusual experience. It left a
print on everybody. [siblings as well as grown-ups]
It was quite an experience, I tell you. Different people said sort of
unusual things to us. They'd say, "Oh well, it isn't so bad. You
have other children." But no child ever takes the place of another
one.
But of course, you go on.
Shane, Kylie & Mercer, Shawn & Mike--God be with you 'till you all meet again.
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