Worthington Memory  
http://www.worthingtonmemory.org
Contributor: Camp 1535 Sons of Confederate Veterans
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                      BRIGADIER GENERAL ROSWELL S. RIPLEY
                                   CAMP 1535
                         SONS OF CONFEDERATE VETERANS

                        DEDICATION OF HISTORICAL MARKER

                          SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 2004
                        THREE O'CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON



                           [Photograph]




                               MAGNOLIA CEMETERY
                           GRAVE MARKER INSCRIPTION
                                By HENRY TIMROD
                    "RICH IN RED HONORS, THAT UPON HIM LIE
                         AS LIGHTLY AS THE SUMMER DEWS
                          FALL WHERE HE WON HIS FAME
                                BENEATH THE SKY
                              OF TROPIC VERA CRUZ"


           MAGNOLIA CEMETERY
      CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA
        GRAVE MARKIER INSCRIPTION

                IN MEMORY OF
          BRIG GEN R. S. RIPLEY C.S.A.
          BORN IN WORTHINGTON OHIO
               14TH MARCH 1823
         GRADUATED AT WEST POINT 1843
            DIED 29TH MARCH 1887


    [Logo of Sons of Confederate Veterans 1896]

                 WELCOME
   BRIGADIER GENERAL ROSWELL S. RIPLEY CAMP 1535
               COMMANDER DAVID REED
          PAST COMMANDER COLLIN THOMAS

          UNVEILING OF THE MARKER
            THE OHIO HISTORICAL SOCIETY
                  SCOTT MUELLER
       DIRECTOR OF INSTITUTIONAL ADVANCEMENT

           RECOGNITION OF THOSE
     WHO MADE THE MARKER POSSIBLE
               JEFFREY P. YOEST, D.D.S.
             EDITOR OF SCV CAMP # 1535

                   COMMENTS
                   GAIL ROBINSON
         OHIO DIVISION PRESIDENT, 1999-2004
        UNITED DAUGHTERS OF THE CONFEDERACY

          HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE
              OF GENERAL RIPLEY
                 CHET BENNETT, M.D.

            PRAYER OF DEDICATION
               REVEREND JIM BAUGESS

                 PROCLAMATION
           THE HONORABLE HARVEY MINTON
               MAYOR OF WORTHINGTON

                                                 RIPLEY
                                         By Henry Timrod

                            Rich in red honors, that upon him lie
                            As lightly as the Summer dews
                            Fall where he won his fame beneath the sky
                            Of tropic Vera Cruz;

                            Bold scorner of the cant that has its birth
                            in feeble or in failing powers:;
                            A lover of all frank and genial mirth
                            That wreathes the sword with flowers;

                            He moves amid the warriors of the day,
                            just such a soldier as the art
                            That builds its trophies uon human clay
                            Moulds of a cheerful heart.

                            I see him in the battle that shall shake,
                            Ere long, old Sumter's haughty crown,
                            And from their dreams of peaceful traffic wake
                            The wharves of yonder town;

                            As calm as one would greet a pleasant guest,
                            And quaff a cup to love and life,
                            He hurls his deadliest thunders with a jest,
                            And laughs amid the strife.

                            Yet not the gravest soldier of them all
                            Surveys a field with broader scope;
                            And who behind that sea-encircled wall
                            Fights with a loftier hope?

                            Gay Chieftain! on the crimson rolls of Fame
                            Thy deeds are written with the sword;
                            But there are gentler thoughts which, with they name,
                            Thy countrys page shall hoard.

                            A nature of that rare and happy cast
                            Which looks, unsteeled, on murder's face;
                            Through what dark scenes of bloodshed hast thou passed,
                            Yet lost no social grace?

                            so, when the bard depicts thee, thou shalt wield
                            Thy weapon of a tyrants doom,
                            Round which, inscribed with many a well-fought field,
                            The rose of joy shall bloom.