Surnames: Anthony, Anderson, Stewart

----Source: Millie Lee Collection

Anthony, Clyde (October 11, 1898-Dec. 21, 1942)

44-year-old Recluse Takes Long, Last Ride Today After Spending 15 years In Seclusion of His Home Granton - Clyde Anthony, 44, of the town of York, Clark County, will take his long, last automobile ride this afternoon -- his third in 15 years. Those three rides have come close upon one another. First on Monday of this week, when ill and nearer to death than perhaps was realized, he was removed from the home he had not stepped outside of in all those years. Three hours later he died, at 7:30 p.m., in the Luther Hospital at Eau Claire. And then came the second ride. The third, and last, will be in the long black hearse after funeral services at 2 p.m. today in the Gilbertson home. A ride in a modern vehicle was something new to Clyde. For those many years he had watched silently, his head in his hands, from a second floor window as sleek cars passed by the William Anthony farm home in York. For it was on the upper floor of the house that Clyde had spent most of his last 15 years. He was a recluse, who had returned to the protective shelter of the second floor of the farm home after there had been words. That was back during the golden era of the late 20's; before there was such a thing as a depression, before there was such a thing as a war. Most of those 15 years he spent in solitude, seeing only his younger sister, Ruth, who kept the Anthony house for Clyde and for William Anthony, a 84-year-old frugal Scotsman and head of the household. But, although they lived under the same roof, Clyde and his father had nothing to do with one another. It was only during such rare occasions as his old father left the house that Clyde ventured from the solitude and security of the second floor and wandered aimlessly through the lower part of the home. Visitors calling at the Anthony home rarely saw him, and then it usually was because they glanced quickly toward the second floor window; for Clyde watched them all come and go during those 15 years. Those years in voluntary solitude were lonely ones, for Clyde could not read. His eyesight was too poor to permit this. Mostly he sat holding his head between his hands, staring into space, or at a spot on the wall, or on the floor. His solitude was broken by the activities of his sister, Ruth, who cleaned Clyde's bailiwick and brought his food. When it came time for men between 35 and 45 to register for selective service, Clyde knew little or nothing of the war. He did not register. Long afterward a registration card was sent by Elmer F. Anderson, a member of the selective service board, through Mrs. Elizabeth Stewart, who had been helping Ruth through some trouble, and who wanted to help Clyde. He was weak when he signed the card; thin from the lack of exercise, pale from the long lack of sunshine, more feeble than ordinarily because he had lost considerable blood when he pulled several of his own teeth a short time before. Clyde was far from well. On Monday morning, then, a telephone call was received from Ruth, asking that a physician be sent to see him. Ruth said she feared her brother was very ill; but she little realized how seriously ill he was. Clyde was born Oct. 11, 1898, His mother died last March, and a brother died in France in the first World War.