Fox, George


November 12, 1875 - September 26, 1936
Biographical facts are quickly stated. The subject of this memoir, Rev. George Fox, was born in Dumas county, Arkansas, on November 12, 1875. He was educated in the common schools of Arkansas and hit Tharpe’s Business College, Little Rock. As a young man, he was employed as an accountant in Lake Providence, Louisiana. There be was married to Miss Teresa Fouse, who did not long’ survive.
He was converted in Lake Providence in ‘1907;’ licensed ‘to preach probably in 1910, Dr. S. S.. Keener, presiding elder; admitted into full connection in the Louisiana Conference in December, 191 2; ordained deacon in Monroe on December 15,” 1912, by Bishop Edwin D. Mouzon, and ordained elder in Shreveport’ on December 13, 1914, by Bishop Warren A. Candler.
In 1912 he was married to Miss Mary Cowan, of Franklin, Tennessee. To this union a son was born, George Andrews, now an Episcopal minis-or, graduate of Centenary ‘College and of Vanderbilt University. This wife- died in 1919, and in 1921 he was married to Miss Emma Causey. To this union was born a son. Henry Carley, in 1923.
Brother Fox served the following appointments: Bastrop, Water-proof, Bunkie, O.k Grove, Ferriday, Logansport. Hodge, Mooringsport, Bonita.
He died at his parsonage home in Bouita on September 25, 1937. Funeral services were held at the Methodist church in Bastrop on Sunday afternoon, September 26, conducted by Rev. H. L. Johns. presiding elder of the Monroa District, assisted by Rev. W. H. Gil.., Rev. Martin Hebert, Rev. J. A. McCormack, Rev. I. M. Alford, and Rev. Jack H. Midyett. In-torment was at Bunkie, Louisiana, with Masonic services at the grave, Rev. H. L Johns, Rev. T. F. King, Rev. W. R. Harvell, and Rev. Martin Hebert being present. Brother Fox is survived by his widow and his two sons.
But biographical facts merely stated do not interpret a life. As we think of our departed friend ~and brother, it is the memory of his spirit, his attitude, his work, his great soul that tugs at our heartstrings. We knew him and loved him and labored with him—and now we have lost him for a while. No, we have not lost him; he was merely swept out into limitless reaches of the eternal, while we linger on the shores of time. We know where to look for him.
Brother Fox took his - work as a Methodist preacher seriously. To make up for the limited educational opportunities of his youth, he read good books and worthwhile periodicals, and he thought as he read. His studious habits were reflected in the type of his preaching. With a good mind, profound convictions, a holy purpose, and some gifts of ora-tory, he prepared and delivered ‘messages that reached both the minds and the hearts of his hearers. On occasions, his sermons were charac-terized by a heaven-horn eloquence.
Brother Fox was retiring in disposition, almost to the point of dif-fidence; but be had a quality of soul that drew people to him, and his innate friendliness shone beautifully through the mask of timidity. “He that hath friends must show himself friendly”—and Brother Fox had many friends.
As is true of most preachers, he had his share of hardships and dif-ficulties; but, as is also true of most, he bore them bravely, even heroically. In the midst of a peculiarly trying situation, he wrote his presiding elder: I try always to be hopeful, and the day is never so dark but that I hope tomorrow will be brighter.” On another occasion he wrote: lf the sacrifices I have made turn out to the furtherance of the gospel, I shall be glad that I had the opportunity to make them.” How true to the traditions of the itinerancy!
The true nature of a man reveals itself in his home life. A friendship extending through many years and later, an official relationship, gave the writer the privilege of many visits in Brother Fox’s home. There was always the atmosphere of love, sympathy and cooperation. He was devoted to his family, and his family was devoted to him. His was truly, a family circle, unbroken by discord, and beautifully proportioned by affectionate esteem.
Bothers Fox suffered few years with the ailment that finally took him away; but so patiently did be bear his sufferings that many of his closest friends were unaware of the seriousness of his condition. What proved to the fatal attack came perhaps as he would have: wished—in the pulpit. To quote from a letter by his presiding elder, Rev. H. L Johns: “He was engaged in the revival at Bartholomew and had preached only a time or two when he realized that he was really ill and unable to carry on. His last sermon was on Tuesday night. August 17. He was speaking on the question, ‘Is Your Religion Real?’ and had given his introduction, when he stopped and amid, ‘I don’t feel that I can go any further.’ and stepped out into the churchyard where he was taken violently sick. They rushed him home, and tine next day to the hospital, where the doctors operated and gave him no hope.... A number visited him the day before his death, and even in the throes of the death struggle he was brave, and smiled, pointing upward in realization that his end was near and that It. was unafraid.”
To be brave, to be able to smile in the face of death, to be unafraid on the brink of eternity—that is the Christian’s triumph. So George Fox died.’ ‘We revere his memory.
Source: Journal of the Louisiana Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, Pages 100-102, 1937, by H. T. Carley

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