On the farm of Wesley Durham, in Napoleon Tp., about 1 o'clock Saturday afternoon, Aug. 28th, 1886, killed instantly by lightning, John Barnhart. He was engaged in boring post holes for the setting of a board fence when becoming thirsty he had moved a short distance to a small tree for the purpose of obtaining a drink of water from a jug under the tree, and about which several of Mr. Durham's children were congregated, none of which, strange to say, felt any effects of the shock. Mr. Durham was engaged with his team but a few rods distant from the tree. He was in the act of stooping to raise the jug when struck by the fatal bolt, and falling forward on his face expired before any one could reach him. After falling he turned on his back, folded his arms and crossed his feet. His clothing was torn some and his boots cut from his feet. Of those that knew him, none can but say a good man has been taken. John Barnhart was born in Warren county, O., March 12th, 1843, and at the time of his death was in his 43d year. He was left an orphan at an early age; he and only brother were brought to this county by relatives living at Florida, and their early life was passed for the most part in the family of their uncle, Adam Stout. An aunt, Mrs. Rebecca Lowry, resides at Napoleon.

When organized treason hurled defiance at our country's institutions and dared lift an impious hand to lower the stripes and stars and dismantle our glorious union, he and his brother holding their lives not dear unto themselves nor counting the cost thereof, placed them a willing sacrifice upon the alter of their country. In Oct., 1861, a boy of 18 years, he enlisted in Co. F. 68th O. V. I. Was afterward transferred to the 8th O. Ind. battery; veteranized in the battle at Vicksburg, Miss., Jan. 1st, 1864. Was discharged at camp Dennison, O., Aug. 9th, 1865. Through all the dangers and privations of those four years of darkness and warfare his life was spared, and when the wings of healing were again spread over our land he was permitted to return to the home of his childhood, since which up to the period of his death he has resided at or near Florida, the sole survivor of his family. His only brother a member of Co. F. 68th O. V. I. dying in the summer of 1863 on a boat at Keokuk, Iowa, while en route home, and was beloved by every comrade with whom he was associated. He was always at his post ready and willing for every duty; always obliging and accommodating. Every trial and hardship was cheerfully uncomplainingly accepted by him, and the pleasures that came in his way were accepted with the same spirit. Not only was he loved by his comrades but he possessed the fullest trust and respect of all who knew him. During an intimate acquaintance with him of upwards of 20 years, I have yet the first person to hear speak aught of ill or an unkindly word of John Barnhart.

About the spring of 1867 he was married to Miss Josephine Bronson, then a resident of Toledo, with whom the years since then have been most felicitously and happily passed. By this union he was the father of eight children, five daughters and three sons; the youngest less than two years old and all of whom survive his untimely death. Since a year ago in April the oldest, a son, has been with relatives in Kansas. This large family of little ones were wholly dependent upon his daily labor for support. May the Divine comforter raise up for them in their hour of darkness and desolation friends to aid and comfort.

Again has the reaper of death gone forth and beneath his sickle keen a comrade has fallen, one who has endured with you for many a day the weary march o'er southern hill and plain; has shared your camps and bivouacs; your pleasures and privations, and mid whistling shot and screaming shell, shoulder to shoulder, has faced grim death with you on the field of conflict, and when the edict of peace went forth throughout the land he returned with you to his boyhood home, and in all the years that have come and gone he has stood your firm devoted friend which tie was more strongly connected by the bond of comradeship. Every comrade could but feel stricken as if a brother had fallen, and with heads bent above his remains and feelingly say, here lies a brave, true-heart-comrade with whom we have gladly associated in the years that are gone and to whom we are to give our assistance in according him the rites of a soldier's honorable burial and one in every way most eminently worthy the honor. Mete and right his form should be borne to its last resting place covered by the stars and stripes for whose honor and upholding in all the pride and glory of youthful vigor and loyalty his strong right arm was lifted. To the sound of the muffled drums, sad beat with arms reversed comrades have marched with him their last march until the pearly gates swing open and the long columns inarch silently through past the great captain for final review. Six comrades of Co. F., W. D. Brubaker, F. M. Brubaker, S. H. Brubaker, J. J. Lewis, John Shupe and W. P. Turk, acted as pall bearers, most of them his boyhood associates, all of them friends of many years and in the days of the war they were comrades together.

But a few weeks ago he was mustered into the grand army of the republic, the last comrade mustered in and the first to receive his final muster out. In the ranks of the silent great grand army he has taken his place; has answered to the last roll call. Words are inadequate to express the shock of grief that ran through the community when the word went forth that he was killed. No more will loved ones watch his outgoing or his incoming. How the once happy home has been made desolate and hearts do sorrow for the little ones calling at eventide for papa. Funeral services Sabbath afternoon at the M. E. Church in Florida, conducted by Rev. C. S. Barron. Buried in Florida cemetery under auspices of Wm. A. Choate Post of Napoleon, of which he had lately become a member.

Soldier, rest; thy warfare is o'er;
Sleep the sleep that knows no waking,
For him the muffled drama sad roll has beat
The soldiers last tattoo;
On fame's eternal camping ground.
His silent tent is spread,
And glory guards with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead.

Com.

Florida, Sept. 6, 1886.
[Bryan papers please copy]