The old landmarks of a community disappear. One by one they crumble into dust as the calendar marks the passing of this era and the coming of another.

It is the same with the old and beloved characters of a town. The truth of the assertion is found more in the smaller places than the large. We see certain men in their primes today. They are with us in business and are making their names as we work toward our own ends. Then comes tomorrow. We see them fade and wither. Their vitality wanes and the hand of senility is upon them. Then they pass away like summer’s breath and are gone.

A good example of this outline is enacted in the life of J. M. Nelson who answered the call to the Great Life this morning at 5 o’clock, and his passing marks the close of a very busy and active life which was cut down in later years by the firm hand of age.

Mr. Nelson passed away after an illness of a couple of weeks, and his death was hastened by his falling last week and throwing his hip out of joint.  But the beginning of the end came three years ago, when bound for Seattle to visit his son, Oliver, he suffered a stroke of paralysis and had to be taken off the train at Marced, California.  He never was the same after that.  It seemed to undermine the strong character and pitifully weaken it insomuch that his later years were a terrible burden to him.

J. M. Nelson was born in Jackson, Miss. (1860 Census indicated he was born in Illinois), where he spent most of his childhood days, growing in that influence conducive to gentlemanly traits and habits.  When still small he moved with his family to Cairo, Ill., the family home until he was 18 years of age.

On the threshold of manhood, Mr. Nelson heard the call of the great open west and answering it made his way to Sherman, Texas, where he lived until 1902, when he moved to the Pecos Valley.  His life in the Lone Star state was the life everyone had to live on the plains and it brought that inborn manhood and character to the front so that it stood out boldly and prominently in his daily life.  He was a man whose manhood was forever unchanged.  You found him tomorrow as you saw him yesterday.

Mr. Nelson was married in Texas and there came into the home two sons and two daughters.  Oliver C. Nelson is at present in Tacoma, Wash., while the other son Harry, who is well known here, lives in New South Wales, where he has recently moved from Australia.  He is a wireless operator at one of the large stations.  Mrs W. H. Artley of Savannah, Ga. and Mrs. J. D. Hudgins of Carlsbad are his two daughters.  Mr. Nelson also leaves a wife to mourn his loss.

The name of this man comes as one very familiar to nearly every person who has lived in Roswell for a number of years.  As an architect he had few peers.  He seemed to have that indefinable quality of seeing in his own mind the finished building in mortar and stone.  He figures out carefully every detail of the structure and built it first himself.  As his best monument stand the buildings he conceived.  There are some fifteen or twenty courthouses and schools in Texas, the products of his study, while the Baptist Church, St. Mary’s Hospital, the Oklahoma block and other buildings scattered all over the valley call his name to mind.

St. Peter’s Church was his last work and the beauty of the building is not passed by.  The Baptist Church is an edifice that reveals his artwork more than anything else probably.  The silent awe-inspiring front view is a consolation and a joy.  By moonlight there is almost a divine air about it.  The soft flood of silver from the clear New Mexico heavens transforms the lines into mystic and fairy creations.  The long shadows fall onto the lighted entrance and there is a touching element that cannot be forgotten.

Of Mr. Nelson himself, there is little that may be said.  He lived a quiet and rather secluded life, mostly to himself but not for himself.  He was a gentleman of the highest type with all the attributes of that name.  It is enough.

High Mass will be held tomorrow morning at 10 o’clock at St. Peter’s Church and burial will follow in South Park cemetery.

The Roswell Evening News
Friday, 7 February 1919