He was born in Moodna, town of New Windsor and was the youngest child of a family of thirteen children. He received a thorough education. He was one of the first volunteers to offer his services in the civil war. He was made chaplain of his company. He came home on a thirty days furlough and married the beautiful and accomplished daughter of Nathaniel Sands, one of the first families of Orange County. Mrs. Roe left her home of culture and refinement and returned with her husband to the war to nurse the wounded soldiers.
After the close of the war he was stationed at Highland Falls in charge of the First Presbyterian Church there. It was there that he wrote Barriers Burned Away, a story of the Chicago fire. When I asked him how he came to write the story, his answer was that he was reading the paper one morning when the fire first broke out, and in a casual way he made the remark to Mrs. Roe, "I think I would be able to write a story of the fire with your assistance." Like all noble women she encouraged him in the work. He started at once for the burning city together material for the book, returning after a few weeks, he started on the work of his life, destined as he was to become the greatest author of his day. Barriers Burned Away, first edition, was 50,000. The public is too familiar with his work to go into further detail.
He engaged in the nursery business in Highland Falls and not having land enough at that place he purchased a beautiful home in Cornwall that he loved so well and where he lived and died. At this place he built up the largest nursery trade in the country, shipping millions of plants annually throughout the United States and Canada, and as far as the old world. He was a born horticulturist. From boyhood up he loved the beautiful in nature. Every flower and shrub around his beautiful home was planted by his own hands.
His death was very sudden but he was always prepared to meet his Heavenly Father, who seen fit to endow him with all the gifts that will be found in noble manhood. When we lost him we lost a friend indeed. Ministers and horticulturists came from far and near to pay tribute to one who could find time to rest only when death claimed him. Time will not permit me to go any further, but I trust some future day I will be able to write a biographical sketch of his life.