William Graham, a consumptive, and his wife lived in a cottage here. On Saturday night, Graham apparently died. An undertaker was called in and prepared the body for burial. The frenzied young wife was finally allowed to go into the room, and in a paroxysm of grief she threw herself upon the body, straining it to her breast and calling to her loved one to come back. It was some minutes before she could be led away, and then it was noticed that a slight shudder ran through the man's body. Restoratives and massage were applied, and within an hour Graham was able to speak.
Graham says that he went out of this life and journeyed into another country. He described a beautiful road lined with stately trees, strains of music were in the air, and he says that that along the pathway his father came to meet him. He tells of their greeting and conversation, and then of his being torn away, called back to his worn and aching body by the insistent calls of his wife. Graham is still alive, but he cannot last more than a few days.