Union City Times-Gazette, Wednesday, February 25, 1948
Way Back When, All The Men Grew Beards – McIntyre Tells About It
by Guy McIntyre (picture accompanied the article)
Above is shown a picture of my father and mother, Mr. and Mrs. Henry
McIntyre, taken a short time after they were married, April 3, 1855.
Back in those times a boy grew a beard when he became 21 years old.
I never saw my father smooth faced and when he died he wore a short
beard. The only time he shaved was when he was married about ten years.
He went to town and a barber cut his hair and shaved him. He borrowed an
old suit of clothes and hat and put on colored glasses. He went home and
knocked on a back door, saying he was hungry and wanted something to
eat. (my mother never turned anyone away who came to the door hungry.)
So she gave him a lunch, telling him to sit down on the porch and eat it
with a cup of coffee. After eating it, he said, “Mother, that was a fine
lunch.”
For a little while she could not believe it was her husband, as she had
never seen him without a long beard. He started to pick up one of my
older sisters, about two years old. She screamed and for a long time was
afraid of him, thinking it was not her father.
Even some of the neighbors did not know him.
My parents went to housekeeping with his father, his mother being dead,
east of Maxville. The farm was bought from the government for $1.25 per
acre. His father, Robinson McIntyre, laid out the town of Maxville on
his farm and gave the land for the old Maxville cemetery and ground for
the Methodist church, then giving money to help build it.
His little son was the first burial in the cemetery. The cemetery north
of the old one was off of my father's farm. My father was born, November
2, 1820 and died February 21, 1904 in the same house where they went to
housekeeping. After his death, my mother, who was born September 10,
1834, moved to Farmland where she died October 27, 1906
There were seven of us children, five girls and two boys. All have
passed on except myself and sister, Mrs. Hattie Hill, the two youngest.
We both have passed three score years and ten.
A Companion Article:
MCINTIRE, Henry Taylor
Farmland Enterprise, March 4, 1904
Obituary -- Henry Taylor McIntire was born on a farm three miles west of
Winchester, November 18, 1820. When he was six years old, his father
removed to the farm at the edge of Maxville, where he resided until his
death in 1871, after which Uncle Henry took charge of the home place and
lived there the remainder of his long life.
He was married to Mary J. Bull, of Logansport, on the third day of
April, 1855. To them were born seven children, two sons and five
daughters. One daughter died in infancy, but the other children survive
the father. They are Anna M. Hutchens, Sarah B. Clayton, Rachel Clayton,
and Sample, Hattie and Guy McIntire. His faithful wife, who has been a
true helpmate through all these years, and ministered to him in these
days of sickness, still abides in the flesh. Of his father's family he
was the last but one, Martha Botkin, who resides in Farmland.
He joined the Odd Fellows fraternity, at Winchester, about fifty-one
years ago. Afterward he brought his membership to Farmland lodge and
became a charter member thereof. A few years after this, in the year
1859, he united with the M. E. Church, at Maxville, on probation. He was
never taken into full connection, however.
In his home life, Uncle Henry was always a considerate father and
husband. He loved his home, preferring it and the company of his family
to the bustle of the outside. In the last conversation the writer had
with the deceased, Uncle Henry seemed to have experienced a change of
heart. When it took place we are unable to say, but in response to the
question, "Are you trusting in the Lord," he said, "Oh yes," and while
tears stood in his eyes, and his frame shook with emotion, he repeated
the words, "Blessed Jesus! Blessed Jesus!"
He began failing about two years ago, and for seven or eight weeks past
it has been evident that the end was near. In all of this, however, he
did not suffer at all, until within about ten days of his death, when he
begun to experience very severe pains. He was very weak, except when
these paroxysms of pain would come upon him, at which times it became
difficult to hold him. He often spoke of how thankful he was that he did
not have to suffer as many others did.
When he died, he simply ceased to breathe, and that was all there was of
it. There was no labor for breath, nor twitching of the muscles, but he
just went to sleep. On Wednesday, February 24, at 2 p. m., he breathed
his last, having reached the good age of 83 years, 3 months and 8 days.