Elder M. C. Kirkendall by N. S. Ashton

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jun 8, 1916

Elder M. C. Kirkendall

By N. S. Ashton

ELDER M. C. KIRKENDALL was born in Bigprairie, Ohio, Feb. 18, 1863. He departed this life May 15, 1916, at Washington, D. C., being at the time of his death just a little past 53 years of age. On Sept. 8, 1889, he was united in marriage with Miss Emma R. Morris, and to them were born five children,—Viola (now Mrs. Blosser), Myrtle, Earnest, Amber, and Virgil,—all of whom, with his wife and his mother, survive, except Earnest, who was laid to rest in childhood. Brother Kirkendall and his family accepted present truth in the fall of 1893, through the efforts of Elders Jerry Isles and William Woodford, at Shreve, Ohio.

Soon after accepting the truth, he entered the colporteur work, and was afterward made State agent of Ohio. He was finally ordained to the gospel ministry, and his labors have been blessed to the salvation of many souls. It can be truly said of him that his works do follow him. Elder Kirkendall acted as Bible teacher at Mount Vernon College for three years. While he was laboring in this capacity, he was called to take the pastorate of the South Side Church in Chicago, where he labored for three years.

He was then called to the presidency of the Ontario Conference, in which capacity he served a little over five years, and at the end of this time he was called back to the States to take the presidency of the Chesapeake Conference, which position he filled until the time of his death. He was brought to Mount Vernon, Ohio, for burial, where he had expected to come to live and recuperate his health, had not death prevented.

The funeral services were held in the academy chapel by the writer, assisted by Elders E. K. Slade, D. E. Lindsey, and F. H. Henderson. In the death of Elder Kirkendall we feel the loss of a faithful laborer, fallen at the post of duty. Another voice of the third angel's message is hushed in the silence of the tomb, and death has placed its seal upon his lips, but not forever. The willing hands which lie pulseless now, will soon be raised to seize the everlasting prize; and the lips so mute, are yet to shout the welcome to our King.

While the family mourn deeply their great loss, yet they mourn not as those that have no hope. Sometimes the sweetest voice of hope reaches us through the portals of the tomb, and by the tears of our deepest sorrow are watered into life the purest flowers of the soul. We confidently believe that our brother sleeps in Jesus, soon to arise at the resurrection of the just. N. S. ASHTON.