(egrua ilea leg rtckaon, sr. - university of georgia
TRANSCRIPT
®Ije Ifuneral S’miiccn
m
(Egrua Ilea leg Rtckaon, Sr.
Rev. George Brightharp, Officiating
GILBERT-LAMBERT MEMORIAL CHAPEL
Paine College
Augusta, Georgia
August 3, 1981
3:00 P.M.
©tte Man's ‘NicfjEWhat a happy event it was when on September 7,
1937, the late Rev. Cyrus Wesley Hickson and Bertha Mae Hickson gave birth to their firstborn, Cyrus Jr.! Later, Cyrus shared his childhood with three sisters, Bertelle, Lillian and LeJeune. At a very tender age, Cyrus began to carve a private niche for himself.
One segment of his niche was geared toward developing an education. Having been deeply imbued with the value of an education. Cyrus obtained the Bachelor of Arts Degree from Paine College, the Master of Arts Degree in Afro American Literature from Atlanta University, and at the time of his death was a doctoral candidate in English at the University of South Carolina.
A second segment of Cyrus’ niche was centered about his career. Cyrus had developed a contagious quest for knowledge which spread rapidly to his students. As an educator he worked assiduously to lead his students to the thresholds of their own minds.
The quiet niche of Cyrus was developed through his charismatic, humane manner. He was an affable, sincere, and honest person who warmed each heart he touched. His gentle yet strong manner, his compassion for the unkind person, his humble yet stately grace, his relentless gift of giving, and his smooth articulatory skills made an eternal light on Cyrus’ path.
program
Processional
P rayer Rev. R. E. Donaldson
Scripture Rev. Paine Phinizy
Solo Ms. Ernestine Hill "The Impossible Dream"
Acknowledgements M r. Mallory Millender
Remarks Mr. John Elam
Solo M rs. Maxine Newberry "His Eye is on the Sparrow"
Eulogy Rev. George Brightharp4
Recessional
Tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from
Day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted
Fools to the way of dusty death.
Out! Out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow —
A poor player that struts and frets
His hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.
—William Shakespeare