American Patriotic 10


John Marion Harrell

July 14, 1978 ~ February 21, 2018 (age 39)
Obituary Image

John Marion Harrell, 39, passed away from natural causes on Wednesday, February 21, 2018 at his home in Falkner. Funeral Services, with full Military Honors, will be at 1 PM Saturday, February 24 in The Heritage Chapel of Ripley Funeral Home with Dr. David Shepherd officiating assisted by Bro. Warren Harrell. Burial will follow in Little Hope Cemetery near Falkner.
  Born July 14, 1978 in Ripley, he was the son of Benny and Marilyn Yancey Harrell of Falkner.
  John was a Corporal in the United States Marine Corps at the time of his medical retirement because of wounds sustained in combat in Iraq in 2004. He was awarded the Purple Heart and several other medals including the Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal with Combat Distinguishing Device for his actions under fire while serving as machine gun squad leader in April 2004.
  John was a warrior, a genius, a poet and an adventurer. He never feared death and always had complete peace in his salvation, knowing that Jesus Paid it All.
  In addition to his parents, those left to cherish John's memory include the greatest loves of his life, his two precious children, Leah and Miles Harrell of Ripley, a sister, Elizabeth Elliott (Benton) , a brother David Harrell (Amber) both of Ripley, his nephew, Clark Harrell; and a cousin, Dell Harrell who was like a brother to him.
  The family request the memorials be directed to Folds of Honor, 5800 N. Patriot Dr., Owasso,OK 74055 or My Choices, 109 Bails Rd. Ripley, MS 38663.
  The American Flag at The Ripley Funeral Home entrance honors John and all Veterans for their service to our Country... GOD BLESS AMERICA!!!


(Written by John Marion Harrell in 1995)

Down a lonely meadow and across a deserted hill

There lies a place of beauty that I remember still

The Place is grown over with weeds now

Its beauty remembered by few.

But I have childhood memories

Of the Place when its beauty was new.

Only a lonely rose stands now

To tell us its sad tale.

The brook at the place seems sorrowful

As it trickles through the dell.

The footbridge is decaying

And falling into the brook

The rocks are covered with moss

And have a saddened look.

The place is not what it used to be

Its beauty is not so great

But the place will never lose its charm

Its attraction I can’t abate

For long ago it was there I spent

My lonesome summer days

The brook that flows

And the grass that grows

Is where I used to play.








Back then the place was different though

As the roses grew so wild

Back then I was no old man, I was just a little child

The brook sang so sweetly as it trickled right along

The rocks listened with pleasure

As the birds just sang their song

The place, through the years

Has decayed into ruin

Its beauty has been marred

And I, like the place, am not what I was

My body is battle scarred

For the war I’ve been in

Was not against decay

I was fighting other men

That people across the world might have

The freedom I had then

The place, like the wind, has a right to be free

And so I claim that right to be free

That I, as the place, might still have the freedom

The Creator has given to me.