Charles Estes Shelts Obitutary
Transcribed by Carol Wolf Britton

Well know Camden Man passed Away

Funeral Services held Tuesday afternoon at Camden for Charles Estes 
Shelts.

       Charles Estes Shelts of Camden, well known in this section of 
Illinois, and an extensive land owner and farmer, passed away last Sunday after 
an illness of six months.  However, his condition was not serious until 
Friday when he took a turn for the worse. 
Funeral services were held Tuesday afternoon at two o'clock at the home 
in Camden, with Rev. JOhn B. Roosa of Bowen, officiating. Interment was 
made in the family lot of the Brooklyn cemetery.
	Roscoe Raper, Brooklyn, sang three songs:"Beautiful Isle of 
Somewhere," "Good Night Here and Good Morning Up There" and "How Beautiful Heaven 
Must Be." He was accompanied at the piano by Miss Marjorie Irvin of 
Brooklyn.  Paul bearers included Harry Eaton, Robert Conway, Ollie 
Armstrong, Homer Dorsett, Clifford Ridings and Stoel Cady of Camden.

Obituary
	Charles Estes Shelts, son of Phillip and Mattie Higgins Shelts, was 
born July 6, 1871 in Huntsville Township. He departed this life June 29, 
1941, at his home in Camden, aged 69 years, 11 months and 23 days.
He was united in marriage January 3, 1895 to Emilla Phillps of 
Springfield, Missouri. Besides his widow, Mr. Shelts leaves seven children 
Arthur of Rushville; Floyd and Leonard of Huntsville; Avonal Raper of 
Bowen; Oletha Briggs of Quincy; Eva Reeder of Camden; Mattie Hare of Buffalo 
Prairie; one sister, Kathrine Clayton, a half sister, Ethel Cahpman, a 
half brother, Archie Shelts, all of Camden; Twelve grandchildren and a 
host of relatives and friends.  A son Lester and a daughter, Lucille, 
preceded him in death.
	Most of his life was spent in the vicinity of Camden, where he enjoyed 
every opportunity of being a good neighbor and kind helper in time of 
need.

Again I sit in the shadows
Watching the moon's pale light
As the clouds so thin and lacy
Try to hide him from my sight.

To the hill just back of my farm home,
I lift my eyes for strength, 
To the oaks, the maples and elm trees
Whose shadows increase in lenght.

Though my days, I know, are numbered, 
Still there's work for me to do;
My children, I can not leave them, 
But can I see it through?

Again I hear an answer,
Not coming from hills afar;
But in the murmuring pine trees 
Growing close to my door.

That murmur is governed in volumne
As the  wind moves the tiny green leaves, 
Til it seems the heavenly chorus
It trying its best to please.

Ask and ye shall receive, 
That your joy may be full;
Insofar ye have asked for little in MY name,
Is it ony the wind in the pine trees?
Or God easing my pain?

Then as the murmur grows fainter 
I raise mine eyes in prayer,
And a feeling of strength comes O'erme, 
That faith always puts there.

And I pray, thank God for blessing, 
Ask forgiveness for tasks poorly done;
Amd I pay with a heart full of loving,
Not my will, but thine be done.