“The funeral of Mr. George Davis last Sunday was one of the largest, if not the largest, that ever occurred in the city. Mr. Davis belonged to no secret societies, and the only organization that turned out in a body was the board of trade, which was there two hundred strong, wearing a simple black badge of mourning. It was simply an immense outpouring of the people, caused by the death of a man whom all loves, a man of the people, a large-hearted, broad-minded, full-blooded citizen; every inch a man. The spacious grounds around the man and the adjacent streets were thronged with people, of all classes. Those who were inside the residence were but a drop in the great ocean of sorrowing humanity that stood without. When the cortege took up the line of march for the cemetery the great throng followed respectfully along, filling the sidewalks of North Waller, Ninth and Offnere streets, or crowding the street cars to overflowing.”
“At the residence a feeling discourse was delivered by Reverend JW Peters2
- John Wesley Peters[/efn_note], of Mt. Auburn, a former pastor of Bigelow and a near and dear friend of Mr. Davis and family. Appropriate selections were sung, and beautiful floral offerings were on the casket. At the grave the services were brief and simple, a few words from the minister, a prayer, the dirt fell upon the coffin lid, and all that was mortal of George Davis was forever hid from view.”
“A great many friends and relatives of the family were here from abroad, including people from Cincinnati, Chillicothe, Higby’s, Circleville, Waverly, and many other points.”1A City’s Sorrow. (1894, January 20). Portsmouth Times, p. 7.
