THE FLAGLER TRIBNE
Bunnell, Florida
Thursday, August 13, 1931

 

Mrs. J. F. Lambert died Sunday afternoon at her home, following an illness of some duration. Funeral services were held in St. Augustine Tuesday morning at the cathedral, interment being held at the cemetery in St. Augustine. Many friends of the deceased attended the funeral from Flagler County where she had made her home for a number of years.

Mrs. Lambert was born in Charleston, S. C., September 28, 1860. Her marriage to Mr. Lambert was solemnized in 1899.  She is survived by her husband; one daughter, Mrs. John L. Center, Jr.; two brothers, John and Phillip Ludwig, all of St. Augustine; one niece, Mrs. W. P. Howard of Island Grove, and a nephew, Godfrey Pacetti of Panama, Canal Zone.

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THE FLAGLER TRIBUNE
Bunnell, Florida
Thursday, August 13, 1931

On Sunday morning last as we were awakened from a little noonday siesta, an old colored servant from the Lambert home announced the sad intelligence that Mrs. had quietly passed away.

The afternoon was a sad one, for a glance across the street showed the verdant cedars, the stately palms, the trailing vines and the pretty flowers that stood like lonely sentinels as the remains of their benefactress were moving from them for the last time.

Mrs. Lambert was our friend in the purest sense of the word, for when a few years ago, the Grim Reaper had seemingly drawn his scythe over our little hostelry it was she who sat at the bedside of the stricken while the lonely clock ticked off the dreadfully lengthy hours of the silent night.

During those dreary moments she did not dream that her ward would later send flowers to cheer her own sick room.

For twenty years she was our neighbor and it was an inspiration to contemplate the devotion to her husband, the tender love for her child, the loyalty to her church and the humility toward her God, and to those whom she has left we beg to offer while like is a narrow vale between the lofty peaks of two eternities and the departed answer not our call which merely echoes till it emerges into a lonely silence, hope sees a guiding star and love hears the rustle of a soaring wing.

FRANK L. BYRD