Death and Remembrance
George Mason died peacefully at his home, Gunston Hall, on October 7, 1792. Located in Mason Neck, Virginia, Gunston Hall is now a museum and tourist attraction. The George Mason Memorial in West Potomac Park, Washington, D.C., near the Thomas Jefferson Memorial, was dedicated on April 9, 2002. The George Mason Memorial Bridge, one of five that make up the 14th Street Bridge, connects Washington, D.C., to Virginia. George Mason Elementary School in Alexandria, Virginia, George Mason High School in Falls Church, and George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia, are named in his honor, as are Mason County, Kentucky, Mason County, West Virginia and Mason County, Illinois. He was honored by the United States Postal Service with an 18ยข Great Americans series postage stamp. A bas-relief of Mason appears in the Chamber of the U.S. House of Representatives as one of 23 honoring great lawmakers; his image is located above and to the right of the Speaker's chair. The Society of Professional Journalists, Virginia Pro Chapter, presents an annual award named for Mason to a person who has made significant, lasting contribution to the practice of journalism in the Commonwealth.
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Famous quotes containing the words death and/or remembrance:
“I’ve been cursed for delving into the mysteries of life. Perhaps death is sacred, and I’ve profaned it. Oh, what a wonderful vision it was. I dreamed of being the first to give to the world the secret that God is so jealous of, the formula for life. Think of the power, to create a man. And I did, I did it, I created a man. And who knows, in time I could have trained him to do my will. I could have bred a race, I might even have found the secret of eternal life.”
—William Hurlbut (1883–?)
“Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.
Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe
In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night,
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide:”
—William Shakespeare (1564–1616)