Little Pee Dee River,
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Obituary notice from Southern Christian Advocate, Vol 41 #36 pg 7 col 2 November 9, 1878,
from the Sandor Teszler Library of Wofford College:

Bryant LANE

Bryant Lane was born in Marion County, S C., January 13, 1801, and died September 11th 1878.

He was married, December 18th, 1827, to Henrietta Dew, with whom he lived in happy union for little more than half a century. By industry and economy he reared a large family in comfort, and lived to see his children reach years of maturity and enter the service of God. Soon after his marriage, he settled near Little Bluff, on Pee Dee River, which was then a sparely settled section of country, with but little preaching for miles around. Morals and religion were at a low ebb, and demoralizing influences were strong and widespread. In the year 1840, he was converted, under the ministry of Rev W A McSwain, by whom he was baptized and received into the church. There being, however, no Methodist Church near at the time, a society of four or five members was formed, which met and worshipped at an old store house at Kirby's Cross Roads; this was the nucleus around which the present Bethesda Church has grown.

He was a warm friend and liberal supporter of the church, and though remarkably quiet and retiring in his habits---never seeking prominence or position in the church---he was yet as true to his Christian principles as the needle to the pole. There was a quiet beauty about his Christian life well calculated to "Allure to brighter worlds, and lead the way."

The uniform and steady light of his Christian example did much to elevate the moral tone of the community in which he lived, and it will be long before the memory and influences of "Uncle Bryant" are forgotten.

His end was perfect peace. During his last illness he seemed to enjoy uninterrupted communion with God. Gathering the members of his family around his bed, he spoke of God's love and mercy until his happy soul was so filled with joy that he would try, though in extreme weakness, to shout the praise of God. When so prostrated as no longer to recognise friend, pastor, or child, I leaned over him and said, "Brother Bryant, do you know me?" He replied, in a whisper, "No; I have forgotten everything." I said, "You know Jesus?" With a peculiar animation of countenance and brightness of eye, he replied with emphasis, "Yes." Thus he died in hope of a blessed immorality.

Submitted by Carolyn Klear, 9 Aug 2002

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