FRANK GARDNER , a prominent, and highly esteemed farmer and citizen of the Flat Creek community, died suddenly at his home early Saturday morning. Deceased was 45 years and 8 months old, a man of strong and robust constitution, though he had suffered from flu for several weeks and his heart must have been weakened thereby. He was sitting up in bed early in the morning with an attack of coughing when heart failure suddenly caused his death in a few moments. He is survived by his wife, Mrs. Floy Reagor Gardner and two young sons: also by his mother and several brothers and one sister. Funeral services were held sunday at 1:30 P.M. at the Cumberland Presbyterian church at Flat Creek, conducted by Rev. Mr. Crawford of Fayetteville. Burial was in the cemetery nearby. A very large crowd of sympathizing friends from the neighborhood and southern section of the county, where the life of the deceased had been spent, atttended, testifying the high regard in which he was held by those that knew him. His untimely death is a sad bereavement to his wife and young sons, to his mother, brother and sister.
Shelbyville Gazette

MOURNING (BEARDEN) GLIDEWELL , aged 75 years who died at Fayetteville, last Tuesday, was brought to Flat Creek and buried by the side of her kinspeople on Wednesday." " Buried in Old Flat Creek Cemetery in Flat Creek, off Hilltop Road, Bedford Co., TN. Cemetery Listing compiled by Tim Marsh., Lincoln Co., TN.
Shelbyville Gazette 13 Oct 1904

WILLIAM JACKSON GLIDEWELL In Memoriam
William Jackson Glidewell was born on the old Glidewell Homestead, "Glidewell's Ridge", Lincoln County, Tennessee, on February 9, l832, and fell asleep on July l, l912, having attained his four-score years. He was descended from Dutch and French Huguenot ancestry, who came to America and settled in Virginia and North Carolina that they might enjoy religious and civil liberty. His father, Thomas Glidewell, served in the Indian wars that occurred while he was yet a young man living in Virginia, from which state he came to Tennessee in the early part of the 19th century. Mr. Glidewell was married in 1852 to Miss M. Bearden, daughter of William Bearden and Grand-daughter of John Bearden who was a Revolutionary soldier from Spartanburg, S.C.

There came to bless this union eight children, five of which, together with twenty grandchildren are living to mourn the loss of mother and father-J.W. Glidewell, Tampa, Fla., Benj. F. Glidewell, Huntsville, Ala., Alfred Glidewell, Fayetteville, Tn., Wm. Bearden Glidewell, Lakeland, Fla., and Mrs. Benj. E. McLin, Tallahassee, Fla. There are many friends in Lake County, Fla., where Mr. Glidewell Lived from 1886 to 1901, who will join with those in Tennessee who knew and loved him as a true friend and kindly neighbor. He was a fine conversationalist and many were the tales of adventure and pioneer happenings he could relate of "yea olden days", when the only train that traversed "the sunny hills o' Tennessee" was the stage coach, whose bugle call echoing over hill and dale was answered by the impatient neighing of the "relay" horses kept at each tavern or country inn, where travelers rested and exchanged the news while fresh horses were harnessed when they were off and away in their next run. The old Glidewell home being located where the Shelbyville, Fayetteville and Petersburg roads met, was noted for the number of visitors who were made welcome there. Politicians, scholars, orators and dead-beats were alike taken in and given shelter if far from home or needing a friend, as was often the case in those early days of our State's history. Once a poor painter who was stranded, frescoed the walls and ceiling of the guest room to show his gratitude. Thus it was that "little Dick," as the subject of this sketch was lovingly called, became a close observer of men, while yet a curly headed, happy hearted boy, and it has often been said of him that he rarely failed to correctly read the character of a man after his first conversation with him.

Though quick to take offense if his integrity or honor were questioned, he was as quick to forgive, and he bore no man malice. What he owned belonged to his friends and like "Abou Ben Admen," he was "one who loved his fellow man." No one who knew W.J. Glidewell but would take his word as quickly as his bond. He was a confederate soldier and his stories of the war, ranging from comic to the most tragic would make a book well worth the reading. How the sons and daughters of the South lived and suffered the severest privations, and fought and died in those terrible days that tried men's souls. Once he was crippled while fighting five from the government gun works and lay for months in a hospital unable to lift himself from his cot. When he was finally able to walk with the aid of crutches he was given a furlough and a little mule and told that he might visit his family, some 4 or 5 days' journey distant.

He had no money, no gifts to carry home to his children, but on the way he passed a large grapevine laden with ripe fruit, gathering as many as he could tie up in a large handkerchief, the crippled soldier and loving father, who could not bear to meet his little brood empty handed, carried those grapes two long days ride suspended from one hand, while he guided his little mule with the other hand. The memory of such deeds of kindness through his long life, are a blessed heritage more precious than gold and silver to his children and to those who really knew him and loved him. He was a man who read and thought much on the great questions of life here and hereafter, and he knew more of his Bible by heart than do the majority of ministers. During the last few years of his life, after his eyesight failed him, he whiled away many hours singing the old hymns that he learned as a boy in the old Baptist church at Hannah's Gap, Where he first gave his heart to God. He would often quote Job 19-"For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and tho' worms destroy this body, yet shall I see God." Another favorite Quotation was-"Go tell my disciples and Peter etc., saying, although like Peter, he was unworthy, yet the Lord was good and would not forsake him. Not long before he "went away" he was missed from his house one day and on going in search of him they found him leaning on the fence in a little grove of trees, praying aloud to his Father who was soon to call him to that "home not made with hands, eternal in the Heavens." So after bidding his beloved son "Ben" good-bye and walking back into his room he laid down to rest, and raising his hand as if he had forgotten something more he called "Ben," and closing his eyes he fell peacefully to sleep to await that last call. Till then, farewell.
Source: Sherry S. Finchum at Rootsweb World Connect