Newspapers / Mars Hill University Student … / Nov. 11, 1939, edition 1 / Page 3
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THE HILLTOP, MARS HILL COLLEGE, MARS HILt," NORTH CAROLINA Page Three Airkit k eachers, Students Have Memorial Service For Butler LLisr^ole Institution Honors Student s? 1 it Ta&>presentativ€s Of Faculty, rhese Church, And Students re ans Take Part I and respectfully the t jijgidents of Mars Hill college froni*^ into chapel last week to give safeP^^® to their comrade, Milton le im^^®^’ to fif^ith faces deeply marked by y can®^i°*i> they heard the Rev. W. ed by Lynch, pastor of the church 'e, begin. Lord, thou hast heen our of place in all genera- . ns ” give! ie Ei their pastor had read PeacP' *^® Scriptures and ha^ after a quartet of .^j.y ylents had sung a hymn, they dges ^ their president come to the ^^® platform and with Alii? feelings, sometimes beyond Social^”’’ eralit] Weeks ago when the time iouth opening of this session of d hand, those of us to R«’ , work in the offices were [oslew'^^ our work in our places and tional'®*^ early, when students were and ' ^®^la*'lag to come to the ipus, one day I was in the Ir v.'®trar’s office and a handsome, ’ a-t a n n e d youth, seventeen ^ ol^hteen just a few ,AIcol 3 ago, came to the desk and R conversation with )^Nortl' ^ striking fellow he was, * . , u l-®ok his place in our midst to V education. [onday afternoon at one ^ campus, and ion Butler was well and strong li ^1® usual work. This ning about one o’clock when iturned I made my usual in- ,y when I reached my home ’ ^®.snow if there was anything ‘ ’eeded to look after. Mrs. ;kwell said, “Yes, there is ^^^^“ething you ought to look af- 1 Si' on’s passing. I made my way * funeral home to see ^® ® he body was being properly °re Ojj Q^j.g then made my ,®®n. over to the room to visit oommates. Before I got there, Autobiography Was Written By Butler English Assignment Here Called For Story Of His Life lion 0, , . of^ *^^®^ ®®® student who ^ y him well on the campus, and about Milton’s spiritual ition. And he said, “Milton :st _ sj*m, iviHion IllinO^^^ right.” And then he told H re-dedicating his life ’ study course week. ;hen I talked with his room- !s, who lived in the same 1 with Milton, I asked them, at kind of boy was he?” said, “Milton’s life was an .ration to us. ’hite t.” done Best J conta/^^'°" ^® “Do you think h writ'®® “^bt spiritually?” They lest 0^^®^ ’^®*'® confident of that, lerson,^ young friends and col- y Park*®s> I am quite aware that ave to be careful about stan- f 3. I am aware that we have IS on -ach certain standards made swing be accrediting agencies, but to th®-be no hesitancy in saying name more interested in the 1 the J*' s^nd spiritual welfare of t the college family by far than looks i>* tbeir academic standards. Systehld rather be separated from * right arm than from that this v^ony. Thank God that though r aid ® bas suddenly left us that t are « &oing to be with his Savior few c'to face. My heart and your s go out to his family. It both e''be indeed shocking and hard ant of bs mother, father, and his cr, especially because of Jya’ ^ong distance he was away a in A1 borne. May our prayers go r. * We think about them. o-nah*to never willing to come in- of sp?® presence oT death and 'wledge defeat. I am not * e to acknowledge defeat >r - olJ ^ Continued on page 6) 1 page For an assignment made by his English teacher. Professor De Shazo, Milton Butler prepared an autobiography. Here is what he wrote: At the time the leaves were just turning brown, red, and many other garish colors. Truly, there weren’t many trees to sup ply the leaves, but nevertheless they were changing color in pre paredness for the coming winter. It was hot, for the little town was up in the hills. The hills were barren, as are almost all of the hills in Arizona; yet they were purple in the twilight, showing God’s beauty in creation. The air was calm; not a thing stirred. The mines, for this was a mining town, were closed for the night; for this was after the Great War, at which time they ran day and night. The clock ticked off the quiet hours one by one, and only the gentle murmur of distant voices could be heard. Even nature seem ed to be relaxed and resting af ter a day of weary labor. Suddenly from far off, down in one of the little twisting, dusty streets, came the sound of an automobile going somewhere in a great hurry. To be sure, it was not a modem automobile, but it was one of the popular makes at the time—a Model-T Ford. The little car, panting for air, drew up before a small brown house. Out of the tired little car jumped a short, spry old gentle man with a small black satchel in his hand. He rushed up the short walk to the house and was met by another little man. This other small man was a bit younger than the first. The man with the satchel went into the house, but the other stayed out on the porch. There was an anxious look on the little man’s face as he paced up and down the narrow, creak ing porch. After a few minutes there was heard a new voice. It was not the voice of a grown hu man being; rather, it was the first squalls and then yells of a newborn baby. That .baby, in that setting, in that little town, was me! That was to begin the most important career ever known to myself my own career. That anxious, pacing little man was my father. The most important figure of all was in the house, my mother. I say she was the most important because it was she who was to name me and to guide me up to the time when I could care for myself. That was back in October, 1921. The town was Globe, Ari zona. Just after I was born, three months to be exact, we moved from there to “the Land of Sun shine and Fortune”—California. That was seventeen long years ago; yet they seem not too long to me. I can still remember some of the happy days of my fourth and fifth years as plainly as if they were only yesterday, such as the time Dad gave me my new red toy tractor and the time my brother broke my first football by kicking it too hard. Yes, that was a long time ago. Now that I stop to think of it, those child hood glimpses are few. Up to the time that I was six years old, we lived on a twenty- acre farm. It was on the outskirts of a small town called San Luis Obispo, California. On the farm we had stock of almost every de scription; I say “almost” because Mars Hill Student Goes To California Henry Negron, an intimate friend of the late Milton But ler, left the campus for San Luis Obispo, California, Fri day morning, November 3, to attend the services as a rep resentative of the Mars Hill students. The sending of Negron was entirely an undertaking of the students, who through per sonal contributions supplied the money necessary to make the trip possible. While there he will attempt to express the feeling of the students at Milton’s passing. Henry will return from this trip of approximately thirty- eight hundred miles November 13. Throughout the time since his departure he has corres ponded with many of the stu dents here. Mother did not like ducks. So we had no ducks. We had no geese, but I did have an old collie dog, and we did have the correct amount of cows and horses. The old red barn always gives me a pleasant feeling every time I think of it, because, you see, we children used to climb upon a great stack of hay and slide or jump down onto a smaller pile. Oh!—That was fun! Yes, that farm was a very good place, and I am glad that I had all of those experiences, because I learned more from the “school of hard knocks” there than at any other place. When I had seen seven winter suns, we had moved up the road a bit to an old gray house. I didn’t like it because we had only a small plot of ground, and I had no one with whom to play. One thing that I do remember about this old gray house is that behind it there was an old oil well. I used to wonder at the strange sucking sound that it made when I threw bricks into it. I used to wonder if it would make the same sound if I were thrown in! It was not long after we had moved up to this old place when my father decided that he did not like paying someone rent every month; so he decided to build a home for himself and his family. As I came under the heading of a member of that organization, his family, I got to live in this new home that was built. This new place, that we could now call our own, was a beauti ful home. It was designed in a style that has lasted for years and will last for a few more to come the Spanish-American style. It Milton Butler, Popular G-I, Passes Away Unexpectedly Memorial Prayer Made By Pastor Invocation By Mr. Lynch Is Highly Praised By Many So many people have spoken of the beauty and force of the prayer by the Reverend William L. Lynch at the memorial service for Milton Butler that the Hill top is here reproducing it in full as it was transcribed by Miss Frances Snelson, secretary to President Blackwell, in a steno graphic record of that service: Almighty Father, we bless thee that life and immortality have been brought to light in the gos pel. We know from Jesus, and we bless thee for the knowledge, that death is not the destruction but the expansion of our life; and it opens the way into new oppor tunities of service and worship, new disciplines and new joys; that it can not take us out of our Father’s hands nor separate us from the love of God. We are going whither we cannot see; but we do not leave our Father’s house; we are the children of Eternal Love, and underneath us are the everlasting arms. 0 help us to realize the faith of Christ, and then we shall have the peace of Christ, and the bereavements that darken our homes will not break our trust in thee, the Fath er of our spirits. Our God, we thank thee that to thee there are no barriers be tween this world and the other; but that, hand in hand, they who have passed on and they that re main may even now in prayer draw near to thyself and to each other as unitedly and as naturally as little children round their mother’s knee. We thank thee that in thy pres ence all barriers break, all illu sions dissolve, all accidents of time and space vanish away, all Campus Is Stunned By Sudden Loss Young Californian TFas De bater, Singer; Had High Grades Frances Milton Butler, 18, a freshman at Mars Hill college, died suddenly at 11:30 o’clock Wednesday night of last week, following a heart attack. Young Mr. Butler, from San Luis Obispo, Calif., was a tenor in the college glee club and a member of the Euthalian lite rary society. Milton Butler’s interests were manifold. He was taking a course in music, and he showed great in terest in the college glee club. In a contest held at the college he was selected from a group of approximately fifty contestants to represent the college in inter collegiate debating. He took an active part in the Euthalian lite rary society, of which he was a member. He was a brilliant stu dent in all of his classes. His sudden death came as a surprise to everyone. The night of his death he went to his room in Brown dormitory, where he is a lai^ge house with some eleven rooms, all having hardwood floors. This new house was built about a mile farther up the road than the old gray house was; however, it was nearer town. For the past nine years I have been able to call this place “home.” It was there that I made my headquarters for the attack upon San Luis Obispo junior high school and San Luis Obispo (Continued on page 6) BUTLER HAD AN UNSELFISH, DEMOCRATIC OUTLOOK ON LIFE “My philosophy,” declared Mil- ton Butler in one of the last themes he wrote for Mr. De Shazo’s English class, “is short and to the point; but, be that as it may, it is mine!” Here, quoted in full, is the text of this theme in which he stated his outlook on life: Some of them are strange; however, some are commonplace. My ideas about life and the things that go on in it, I call my philos ophy. Everyone has a philosophy of life, whether one thinks to call it that or not. A person has form ed definite conclusions about matters that come up every day. Each phase of life presents a new problem. I believe that true happiness, for which everyone is seeking, is found only in helping others to find it. One need not be selfish with one’s happiness, for there is so much more sorrow in this world than joy. I like to be happy and at the same time make others happy too. I believe that there is a Su preme Being; and, as we call Him Jesus, I worship Him. The stan dards that He has set forth for mankind were meant for me; thus, I have these as a part of my philosophy. Everyone should have the chance to love freely, learn as one desires, and speak that which is on one’s mind. I believe that all men were born equal and that one should be permitted to ad vance as he is able. This is the real meaning of democracy. My philosophy includes democracy! Some people think that money is everything. I do not think in this manner, for one must think of some of the things that money cannot buy—parents, life, and beauty. I believe one should find the best way to true happiness and pursue it in every waking hour. My philosophy is short and to the point; but, be it as it may, it is mine! studied for a Spanish examina tion with a group of other stu dents. At the time of his death there were with him several stu dents other than his two room mates, Walter Massey and Dean Willis, who had been studying with him. Following several hours of study, Milton looked at his watch and remarked that it was eleven o’clock. Those were the last words that he spoke. Im mediately after he had fallen, the doctor was summoned, but when he arrived Butler was beyond his aid. He died within five minutes after the attack. He is survived by his parents, Mr. and Mrs. F. A. Butler, and a half-brother, Joe Butler. The body was sent to Califor nia after a short funeral service ir. the college chapel Thursday morning at 11:30 o’clock. The Rev. Hoyt Blackwell, president of the college, and the Rev. W. L. Lynch officiated. separation, all bereavement, are abolished in the exceeding glory of thine audience chamber. Keep us all safe today in thy spiritual city, both those that see thee face to face, and we whose vision is yet dimmed by the flesh; give us all work to do, battles to fight, difficulties to overcome, and the joy of victory. We seem to give him back to thee, dear God, who gavest him to us. Yet as thou 'didst not lose him in giving, so we have not lost him by his return. Not as the world giveth, giveth thou, O lover of souls! What thou givest thou takest not away; for what is thine is ours always, if we are thine. And life is eternal; and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight. Lift us up, therefore, strong Son of God, that we may see further; cleanse our eyes, that we may see more clearly; draw us closer to thyself that we may know ourselves nearer to our beloved who are with thee. And while thou dost prepare a place for us, prepare us for that happy place, that where they are, and thou art, we too may be, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Our Father, as we feel so keenly the loss of our fellow stu dent and friend, may his loved ones whose sense of loss is keener than our own, be comforted to gether with us by Thy comforting presence. We humbly pray in the name of Christ our Lord. Amen.
Mars Hill University Student Newspaper
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Nov. 11, 1939, edition 1
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