|Posted By:||Kenneth Margison|
|Subject:||Re: Lyman Bates children|
|Post Date:||May 19, 2010 at 07:42:01|
|Forum:||Sullivan County, NY Genealogy Forum|
Monticello NY Republican Watchman 1901
Benjamin Bates, a lifelong resided of the town, died at his home, near Bridgeville, on Thursday, the 19th, at
the age of 84 years, one month and twenty-nine days. His death was sudden and unexpected to his family and
friends, for but the day before he had been in Monticello on business, and on the day of his death he had toiled hard all day until five o'clock when he came to the house and while seated was taken with a violent pain in the region of the heart, and in a very short time expired.
His father was Lyman Bates, an early pioneer of the town, who came from Connecticut at the time of the building of the bridge over the Neversink at Bridgeville and the opening of the turnpike from Newburgh to Cochecton. He was in the employ of Major Wheat in the building of the bridge in 1807, and worked on the road until it was pushed through to Cochecton. After the road was completed he settled on the western shore of Kiamesha Lake where a family of sons and daughters was born. Of a large family but two are now living, Mrs. Sarah Stevens, of Ellenville, and Lyman Bates, the well known contractor and builder, of Newburgh.
The deceased leaves a widow, who is a sister to the venerable John A. Mc Millen, of this village, and one son,
Seth Bates, and three daughters, Mrs. Abram Ray, of Monticello, Mrs. Isaac Brasington, of Bridgeville, and Mrs.
Charles Britt, of Carbondale, Pa. His funeral services were at the Bridgeville Methodist church on Sunday afternoon last, and were conducted by the Rev. Mr. Ridgeway, and his remains were interred by the side of those who had gone before, in the Bridgeville cemetery.
The creed of Mr. Bates was a simple one, and its corner stone and foundationwas tireless industry and doing to others AS he would have them do to him. Few men, in his station in life, even though permitted to live to his advanced age, ever worked so hard or accomplished so much in the way of hard and wearing manual labor. He occupied himself, when not engaged in tilling the small farm on which he lived and died, in doing such work as he could find to do through the surrounding country. This town has in it miles of stone fences, the work of his hands.
The writer speaks from the experience of a lifetime, when he says that no man ever had a kinder neighbor or a more true and steadfast friend. He was honest, brave and generous. He endured his afflictions with pathetic patience, ever sympathising with a friend who was an distress or had met with disaster. We know from frequent conversations with him for several years, past, that death had no terrors for him, and that he was ready to leave the troubles of this world, and its enjoyments, as well, as calmly and placidly as though he were going forth to his
daily toil. Verily: a good man has gone to his reward.
The funeral services were in charge of Undertaker Lamont Mitchell.