Job Harman was born in Pendleton County, VA (Now West VA) on Jan 5, 1837.( other records say Jan. 4.) At 20 years of age, he married Catherine Mallow and they moved to Crawford County, MO in 1858; took up a homestead and lived there continuously until his death March 1920 (other records say Feb. 1919.)
His mother was Elizabeth "Betsy" Harmon, daughter of George Harmon. He told his children that his parents were not related, although bearing the same name, the only difference being one letter.
He was a successful farmer and business man; had a good education for that period; taught
three terms of school before leaving Virginia and several terms in Missouri, after retiring
from farm work; became a writer for local papers and wrote many beautiful poems, was a
very pious and religious man. Job is buried by his wife, Catherine at Liberty Cemetery,
near Steelville, Missouri. They were married 61 years.
of Liberty township, Steelville, Missouri
Caption from the Mirror newspaper Jan. 19, 1967
(At the request of relatives and friends, we are reprinting the following item which last appeared in the Mirror on November 24, 1955)
We are grateful to Joe Benton who brings us the following bit of verse, taken from an old, old clipping from a Steelville newspaper which has been in the possession of his family for a good half -century. The poem and introduction concerns the death of Bent Edwards, whose grave, in accordance with his dying wish, became the origin of the present Edwards Cemetery in the Cherry Valley community. The death of Mr. Bent Edwards occurred some 75 years ago.
Some years since, a young man of this county, who had been an enthusiastic hunter, died
and just before death requested his father to bury him at an old deer lick, where he had
often watched through the twilight for the cautious deer. His wish was regarded and his
lone grave may still be seen under the spreading oaks of the silent forest.--Ed,
By Job Harman
Low lying on his bed of pain,
His pulses faint and few
"Grant my request," he said, and then
I'll bid you all adieu.
"Father, you know the old deer lick
Where many summer eves
I've heard the stealthy tramp of deer
Among the forest leaves.
"There I have watched with eager eyes,
In that deep solitude,
And listened to the wind's low sighs,
In contemplating mood.
"I've seen them come, I've seen them fall,
Those monarchs of the waste,
The antlered hart, so proud and tall,
And fawns so sly and chaste.
"While pulsed the life blood through my veins
In boyhood's brightest day,
And free and playful as the fawns
Life's morning passed away.
"Alas, my days are numbered now,
I pass within the vale,
Though only in the prime of life
My flesh and heart now fail.
"Consumption, that fell foe of man,
Doth lay me in the dust;
I yield to fate, I yield to God,
And in his mercy trust.
"Inter me at the old deer lick
Say, father, do you hear?
There let me sleep my last long sleep--
The place to me so dear;
"Where fawns shall gambol o'er my grave
And winds around me roar
And branches green above me wave
Till time shall be no more."