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Corell and Correll Death Records

Caleb Andrew Corell
1936 Funeral Memorial Book


If life is sacred it should not be allowed to perish.  True, the body will return to the dust from whence it came but the remembrance of the life should continue.  Someone has said "We are not dead until we are forgotten."

As a last tribute to our Loved One we have compiled the following data in the hope that this precious life shall ever live in the minds of the oncoming generations of our family.

"Far off thou art, but never nigh.
I have thee still and I rejoice."

-- Tennyson



to those, who mourn some lost one, in the hope that it may lighten the burden which sometime must befall all of us and cause the sunlight of hope to shine through the dark clouds of Sorrow.


She is not dead, but sleepeth. -- Luke 8:52.

"The Baby wept;
The mother took it from the nurse's arms,
And hushed its fears, and soothed its vain alarms,
And Baby slept.

Again it weeps,
And God doth take it from the mother's arms,
From present griefs, and future unknown harms.
And Baby sleeps."

-- Samuel Hinds


When we go home, think you 'tis true
That we shall know as once we knew --
You speak with me and I with you --
When we go home?

When we go home I hope to see
A little face look straight at me,
Unchanged from what it used to be,
When we go home.

When we go home 'twill be to hear
A darling voice, so low and clear
Our hearts were thrilled to think it near,
When we go home.

When we go home, it must be so,
From out the shades of long-ago
Will come the friends we lost below --
When we go home.

-- J. L. Scott


Name:  Caleb Andrew Corell
Place of Birth:  Montgomery Co. Va.
Date:  April 14, 1874
Deceased:  May 6, 1936
Age:  62 Years, 0 Months, 22 Days


The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket moulds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new,
And the soldier was passing fair;
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.

"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
"And don't you make any noise!"
So, toddling off to his trundle-bed,
He dreamt of the pretty toys;
And, as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue --
Oh! the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true!

Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face;
And they wonder, as waiting the long years through
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue,
Since he kissed them and put them there.

-- Eugene Field


Melrose Baptist Church
Hour:  3 O'Clock P.M.
Date:  May 10, 1936
Roanoke, Virginia


Dr. George Dewey Stevens
Dr. Walter P. Binns
Mr. James R. Bryant


We wreathed about our darling's head
The morning-glory bright;
Her little face looked out beneath
So full of life and light,
So lit as with a sunrise,
That we could only say,
"She is the morning-glory true,
And her poor types are they."

We never could have thought, O God,
That she must wither up,
Almost before a day was flown,
Like the morning-glory's cup;
We never thought to see her droop
Her fair and noble head,
Till she lay stretched before our eyes,
Wilted, and cold, and dead!

 The morning-glory's blossoming
Will soon be coming round, --
We see their rows of heart-shaped leaves
Upspringing from the ground;
The tender things the winter killed
Renew again their birth,
But the glory of our morning
Has passed away from earth.

Earth! in vain our aching eyes
Stretch over thy green plain!
Too harsh thy dews, too gross thine air,
Her spirit to sustain;
But up in groves of Paradise
Full surely we shall see
Our morning-glory beautiful
Twin round our dear Lord's knee.

-- Maria White Lowell



Abide With Me
Safe in the Arms of Jesus
Sometime Somewhere

Special Music

Selection:  It is Well, with My Soul
Rendered by:  Mr. & Mrs. Harry H. Bowers, Mr. & Mrs. W. E. Melton, Oney Mae Frank

Selection:  Lily of the Valley
Rendered by:  Mr. W. E. Melton


There is a Reaper whose name is Death,
And, with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.

"Shall I have naught that is fair?" saith he;
"Have naught but the bearded grain?"
Thought the breath of these flowers is sweet to me.
I will give them all back again."

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,
He kissed their drooping leaves;
It was for the Lord of Paradise
He bound them in his sheaves.

"My Lord has need of the flowerets gay,"
The Reaper said, and smiled;
"Dear tokens of the earth are they,
Where he was once a child."

"They shall all bloom in fields of light,
Transplanted by my care,
And saints, upon their garments white,
These sacred blossoms wear."

And the mother gave, in tears and pain,
The flowers she most did love;
She knew she should find them all again
In the fields of light above.

O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;
'Twas an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away.

-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.


{written by his wife, Elmira Byrd Corell}

Dr. George Dewey Stevens, read the poem "Our Days are Gliding Swiftly By", followed by the scripture given by Dr. Walter P. Binns.  The services were continued at the church after the home service.

The Melrose Baptist Choir sang "Abide With Me", as the funeral procession entered.  The scripture; John 14 was read by Mr. {Walter} Bryant followed in prayer by Dr. Walter P. Binns of The First Baptist Church.  The Choir sang "Safe in the Arms of Jesus", followed by the special selection "Lily of the Valley" by Mr. H. E. Melton.

Dr. Stevens gave a few spoken words on the honorable uplifting character of Mr. Corell.  He had prepared himself for the life in glory, and always asked for prayers and scriptures to be given in his home.  He spoke of the provisions he had made for his wife and daughters so that they might have comfort.  His dilligence {sic} and loyality {sic} in his home were remarkable.  He spoke of the beautiful poem "Away" by James Whitcomb Riley and read the entire poem, commenting upon how appropriate it was at this time.

"Sometime, Somewhere" was played by the organist -- Aurelia Bowers Sawyers, and sung by the Choir for the people to pass by and take the last memorial look upon the deceased.

The B. of L. E. {Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers} held the funeral rites at the cemetery.


Three words fall sweetly on my soul,
As music from an angel's lyre,
That bid my spirit spurn control
And upward to its source aspire;
The sweetest sounds to mortals given
Are heard in Mother, Home, and Heaven.

Dear Mother! -- ne'er shall I forget
Thy brow, thine eye, thy pleasant smile;
Though in the sea of death hath set
Thy star of life, my guide awhile,
Oh, never shall thy form depart
From the bright pictures in my heart.

And like a bird that from the flowers,
Wing-weary seeks her wonted nest,
My spirit, e'en in manhood's hours,
Turns back in childhood's Home to rest;
The cottage, garden, hill, and stream,
Still linger like a pleasant dream.

And while to one engulfing grave
By Time's swift tide we're driven,
How sweet the thought that every wave
But bears us nearer Heaven!
There we shall meet, when life is o'er,
In that blest Home, to part no more.

-- William Goldsmith Brown.


A. W. Fleshman
J. B. Meredith
G. M. Jewell
W. J. Fielding
D. I. Minic{h}an
J. A. Adams
A. W. Staley


My short and happy day is done,
The long and dreary night comes on;
And at my door the Pale Horse stands,
To carry me to unknown lands.

His whinny shrill, his pawing hoof,
Sound dreadful as a gathering storm;
And I must leave this sheltering roof,
And joys of life so soft and warm.

Tender and warm the joys of life, --
Good friends, the faithful and the true;
My rosy children and my wife,
So sweet to kiss, so fair to view.

So sweet to kiss, so fair to view, --
The night comes down, the lights burn blue;
And at my door the Pale Horse stands,
To bear me forth to unknown lands.

-- John Hay

Final Resting Place

Place of Interment:  Fairview
Section:  8
Block:  10
Lot:  N 1/2 - 42
City:  Roanoke
County:  Roanoke
State:  Virginia

Laid to Rest

Hour:  4 P.M.
Day:  10
Month:  May
Year:  1936

SHE AND HE (Selected Verses)

"She is dead!" They said to him.  "Come away;
Kiss her and leave her! -- thy love is clay!"

About her brows, and her dear, pale face,
They tied her veil and her marriage lace

And over her bosom they crossed her hands;
"Come way," they said, -- "God understands!"

But he -- who loved her too well to dread
The sweet, the stately, the beautiful dead, --

He lit his lamp, and took the key,
And turned it! -- Alone again -- he and she!

Then he said, "Cold lips! and breast without breath!
Is there no voice? -- no language of death --

"See now, -- I listen with soul, not ear, --
What was the secret of dying, "Dear?"

* * * *

Ah! foolish world! Oh! most kind Dead!
Though he told me, who will believe it was said?

Who will believe that he heard her say,
With the soft rich voice, in the dear old way --

"The utmost wonder is this, -- I hear,
And see you, and love you, and kiss you, Dear:

"I can speak, now you listen with soul alone:
If your soul could see, it would all be shown

"What a strange delicious amazement is Death,
To be without body and breathe without breath.

"I should laugh for joy if you did not cry;
Oh, listen! Love lasts! -- Love never will die:

"I am only your Angel, who was your Bride;
And I known, that though dead, I have never died."

-- Edwin Arnold.


{written by his wife, Elmira Byrd Corell}

Father's Parents
Mother's Parents
George V. Corell
Hannah Jane Corell
Caleb Andrew Corell
Married to
Elmira M. Byrd
{different writing}
E. Myrtle Corell Myers
V. Christine Corell King
Goldie O. Corell Honaker
Hazel A. Corell East


I CANNOT say, and I will not say
That he is dead -- he is just away.

With a cheery smile and a wave of the hand,
As he wandered into an unknown land,

And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.

And you, -- O you, who the wildest yearn
For the old-time step and the glad return, --

Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here:

* * * *

Mild and gentle, as he was brave --
When the sweetest love of his life he gave

To simple things: -- where the violets grew
Pure as the eyes they were likened to.

The touches of his hands have strayed
And reverently as his lips have prayed:

When the little brown thrush that harshly chirred
Was dear to him as the mocking-bird.

And he pitied as much as a man in pain.
A writhing honey-bee wet with rain.

Think of him still as the same, I say,
He is not dead -- he is just away!

-- James Whitcomb Riley.

From "Afterwhiles," copyright 1887 - 1914.  Used by special permission of the publishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Company


{the following names appear to be written by the same person:}

Mrs. A. B. Graham
Mrs. Lillie Hamlin
Mrs. Brinda Madison
Mr. & Mrs. B. F. Graham
Mr. & Mrs. E. L. Corell
Mr. Frank Bowan
Mrs. S. E. Byrd

{the following names appear to be written by different individuals:}

Mrs. Rebecca Correll
Mrs. & Mrs. Robt. Correll {appears to be the same writing as Mrs. Rebecca Correll}
E. E. Correll
Mr. & Mrs. A. B. Corell
Mr. W. E. Weaver
Mrs. W. E. Lambert
Mrs. J. L. Underwood {appears to be the same writing as Mrs. W. E. Lambert}
Mr. J. L. Underwood {appears to be the same writing as Mrs. W. E. Lambert}
E. I. Johnson
L. C. {St}ing

{the list is continued after the following poem}


There is no flock, however watched and tended,
But one dead lamb is there!
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,
But has one vacant chair!

The air is full of farewells to the dying,
And mournings for the dead;
The heart of Rachel, for her children crying,
Will not be comforted!

* * *

There is no Death!  What seems so is transition;
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian
Whose portal we call Death.

She is not dead, -- the child of our affection, --
But gone unto that school
Where she no longer needs our poor protection.
And Christ himself doth rule.

* * *

Day after day we think what she is doing
In those bright realms of air;
Year after year, her tender steps pursuing,
Behold her grown more fair.

* * *

Not as a child shall we again behold her;
For when with raptures wild
In our embraces we again enfold her,
She will not be a child;

But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion,
Clothed with celestial grace;
And beautiful with all the soul's expansion
Shall we behold her face.

-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.


{the following names appear to be written by the same person:}

Minnie Bowman
Eleen Bowman
Frank Bowman
Verna Pennington

{the following names appear to be written by different individuals:}

Mr. & Mrs. G. V. Corell
Mildred Hamlin


I'd like to think when life is done
That I had filled a needed post,
That here and there I'd paid my fare
With more than idle talk and boast;
That I had taken gifts divine,
The breath of life and manhood fine,
And tried to use them now and then
In service for my fellow men.

I'd hate to think when life is through
That I had lived my round of years
A useless kind, that leaves behind
No record in this vale of tears;
That I had wasted all my days
By treading only selfish ways,
And that this world would be the same
If it had never known my name.

I'd like to think that here and there,
When I am gone, there shall remain
A happier spot that might have not
Existed had I toiled for gain;
That some one's cheery voice and smile
Shall prove that I had been worth while;
That I had paid with somthing {sic} fine
My debt to God for life divine.

-- Edgar A. Guest

From the book "The Path to Home," copyright 1919.  Used by permission of the Reilly & Lee Co., Chicago.


B. of L. E. {Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers} 301


When Earth's last picture is painted, and the tubes are twisted and dried,
When the oldest colors have faded, and the youngest critic has died,
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it -- lie down for an eon or two,
Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall set us to work anew!

And those that were good shall be happy; they shall sit in a golden chair;
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with brushes of comet's hair;
That shall find real saints to draw from -- Magdalene, Peter, and Paul;
They shall work for an age at a sitting and never be tired at all!

And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall blame;
And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for fame;
But each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of Things as They Are!

-- Rudyard Kipling.


{the following names appear to be written by different individuals:}

Mr. & Mrs. W. E. Haley
Mrs. R. L. Moore
Mrs. R. J. Poff
Mrs. H. R. Collins
Mrs. John Fairlie
{W. W.} Hanff
Mrs. S. A. Wright
Mrs. Sadie Walker
R. J. Adams
H. C. Nunn
Mrs. N. C. Nunn
Mrs. W. S. Spencer
Mrs. W. W. Warner
Mrs. E. N. Vaughan
Mr. & Mrs. G. R. Kanode
{E.} P. Kanode
O. H. Mitchell


{the following names appear to be written by the same person:}

Mrs. Mary Wickham
Mrs. L. J. Grubb
Mrs. M. O. Webb
Mrs. W. T. Wingfield
Mrs. & Mrs. J. R. Draper
Miss Draper
Dr. Geo. Stevens
Mr. & Mrs. Goggin
Mrs. Cecil
Mrs. Boitnott
Miss Woods
Mrs. Scott
Mrs. Martin
Dr. Binns
Mr. Bryant -- James R.
Mr. Fowler


{the following names appear to be written by the same person:}

Mr. A. B. Fla{nagace}
Mrs. Wilson
Mrs. Goode {different handwriting:} D. W.
Mrs. Goode {different handwriting:} Lula
Mrs. Manns
Mr. & Mrs. Draper
Mr. & Mrs. Eldridge White
Mr. & Mrs. Haynes
Mr. A. W. Fleshman
Mrs. Minnie Morris
Mrs. Rominger
Mrs. Alice Rice

{the following names appear to be written by different individuals:}

Mrs. C. T. Kirk
W. M. Newman
Minnie Taylor
Marie J. Nerren
Mrs. Nannie Deaner


{the following names appear to be written by different individuals:}

Mrs. Mary Gray
Mr. {E _ } Gadsey
Geo. Dewey Stevens
J. B. Meridith
A. W. Fleshman
Rex T. Mitchell
Mrs. A. B. {T}errell
Mrs. R. {Y.} Farrar
Mrs. R. M. Tate
Mrs. D. P. Jones
Mrs. E. J. Bryant
Mrs. C. W. Gregory
Mrs. J. E. Padgett
Mrs. E. C. McDaniel
Hazel Bryant
E. J. Bryant
Carl Bryant


{the following names appear to be written by different individuals:}

Vera Scott
J. A. Sowder
B. B. Stone
J. E. Padgett
E. C. McDaniel
Mrs. H. A. Fisher
Mrs. S. E. Vest
Herbert Tanner
Mrs. Beulah Nelms
Mrs. R. J. Poff
Mr. & Mrs. G. C. Martin
E. D. Foster
Verna Hincher
Mary Glisp{ee}
Mrs. Frank Creasy
Mrs. T. B. Witt
Mrs. J. H. Foster


{the following names appear to be written by different individuals:}

Virginia Foster Eanes
Mr. W. E. Goggin
Mrs. W. E. Goggin {appears to be the same writing as Mr. W. E. Goggin}
Mr. & Mrs. John Womack
John W. Womack
Mrs. J. W. Womack
Mrs. H. W. Terrell
Mrs. John Mills
Mr. & Mrs. C. L. Hubbard
Mr. & Mrs. A. J. Mills
Mr. & Mrs. Hubbard
Miss Della F{inn}
Mar{c}us White
Mr. & Mrs. G. L. Whitlow
Mr. Lou Pring
Walter Shelton
F. W. Deyerle


{the following names appear to be written by different individuals:}

D. T. Mahon
Pete Burton
C. L. McCr{a}y
S. Shelton
Miss Verla Wood
G. M. Jewell
Dorothy Jewell Bowers
Mrs. Dave Creasy
Mrs. Mollie Hall {appears to be the same writing as Mrs. Dave Creasy}
Mrs. Elsie Firebaugh {appears to be the same writing as Mrs. Dave Creasy}
Mrs. Aubrey Aaron {appears to be the same writing as Mrs. Dave Creasy}
Mr. A. H. Firebaugh
Mr. R. E. Hin{c}hee
Mrs. {F.} E. Aldirdge {sic}
Mrs. & Mrs. W. {G.} Wingfield
Mrs. Starkey
Mrs. Jeff Fields {appears to be the same writing as Mrs. Starkey}


Sunset and evening star
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar
When I put out to sea.

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound or foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell
When I embark.

For though from out our bourne of time and place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.

-- Alfred Tennyson


{written by his wife, Elmira Byrd Corell}

Caleb Andrew Corell, a Norfolk and Western Railway engineer, was born in Montgomery County Virginia, April 14, 1874.

His early life was spent on a farm with his parents, and twelve brothers and sisters.  At the age of 14 he begun {sic} work on the section for the N. & W. {Norfolk & Western} Railway.  He was 18 years old when he begun {sic} to fire an engine on the same railroad.  He worked at this for five years.  On June 5, 1899 he was promoted to an engineer on the Radford Division.  He continued in this service thirty-six years.

October 25, 1934 he was injured while on duty and received treatment until his death.  He was retired from active service October 1, 1935.

He died at Lewis-Gale Hospital May 6, 1936.


George V. Corell -- minister of the Breathern {sic} Church
Hannah J. Corell -- Pilot, Va.

Caleb A. Corell was a member of the Melrose Baptist Church.


{the following names appear to be written by the same person:}

Col. M. S. Battle
Mr. H. C. Nunn
Mr. R. J. Adams
Mr. L. H. Mitchel
Mrs. Lula Goode
Mr. M. A. Haymaker
Walter W. Wood {A Walter Wood was the Corell family lawyer for years, possibly this person}
Mr. & Mrs. J. A. Womack
Mr. & Mrs. J. A. Womack
Mr. G. D. K. Cannon


"But, Lord," she said, "my shoulders still are strong --
I have been used to bear the load so long;

"And see, the hill is passed, and smooth the road."
"Yet," said the Stranger, "yield me now thy load."

Gently he took it from her, and she stood
Straight-limbed and lithe, in new-found maidenhood,

Amid long, sunlit fields; around them sprang
A tender breeze, and birds and rivers sang.

"My Lord," she said, "the land is very fair!"
Smiling, he answered:  "Was it not so there?"

"There?" In her voice a wondering question lay:
"Was I not always here, then, as to-day?"

He turned to her with strange, deep eyes aflame:
"Knowest thou not this kingdom, nor my name?"

"Nay," she replied: "But this I understand --
That thou are Lord of Life in this dear land!"

"Yea, child," he murmured, scarce above his breath;
"Lord of the Land! but men have named me Death."

-- Charles Buxton

This information was on one of the pages in the front of the book:

Courtesy of John M. Oakey, Inc., Morticians, Roanoke, Virginia
Copyright 1930, G. H. Deaton & Company, Joliet, Illinois; Patented June 6, 1933

Submitted & transcribed by Susan Shields Sasek. Items in curly brackets { } are my notes or words/characters I had difficulty reading.
This book was in the belongings of my great aunt Myrtle Corell Myers and her nephew (my uncle, now deceased), William Russell East, Jr., gave it to me after she passed away.

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Page Updated on: 1 May 2004 Page Visitors: c. Susan Shields Sasek