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Asa Fitz Randolph

April 20, 2009

Asa Fitz Randolph was born Feb 15, 1833, and died of ptomaine poisoning September 3, 1903 in Berea, WV. He is buried in Pine Grove Cemetery in Berea. His first marriage was to Marvel Maxson, born to John and Mary (Bee) Maxson on September 4, 1832 in Greenbrier, WV.

The chance for schooling was very limited, and Asa never got more than three quarters or nine months of schooling until after he was married. He had a felon (an infected abscess deep in the palm side of his thumb tip) on his right hand which kept his arm in a sling for 18 months. Part of this time he went to school. Later he cut his leg very badly; as soon as he was able to ride, he went to school. He read much and was especially good in figures. In fact, one of his teachers said that he did not need to study arithmetic-he could make one. His interest in education is shown in the fact that of the nine children who grew up, all went to college at least a year, and five have a degree.

Marvel was as much interested in education as Asa, but she did not have as good a chance as he. She could read about like a third grader. She was a very great worker; the only request she made of Asa before they were married was that he would furnish her plenty of work. She was also an excellent manager. There is little doubt that she had much to do with his financial success.

Asa and Marvel were married in the fall of l851 at Washington, Pennsylvania. They eloped! They lived on the waters of Bone Creek for a while, then on Middle Island until 1857, when they bought the farm on the South Branch of the Hughes River, a mile below Berea, where Alois Preston was born and reared.

Asa operated his father’s tan yard, and had one of his own also. He was a member of the Ritchie Seventh Day Baptist Church in Berea where he served as an ordained deacon.

Marvel died December 2, 1887 in Berea, WV. Asa married Mary Hannah Saunders in Alfred, NY on April 16, 1891. Mary was born in Alfred July 4, 1837 and died there June 11, 1907.

Children of Asa Fitz Randolph and Marvel Maxson, born in Bone Creek, Middle Island or Berea, WV:

Experience “Perie” Fitz Randolph, born July 10, 1852 in Bone Creek, WV. Perie became a Seventh Day Baptist preacher. She married when she was 35 (1887)to Leon B. Burdick. Both Perie and Leon were graduates of Alfred University, Alfred, NY, and both Seventh Day Baptist ministers. Perie was a teacher as well as being a minister. They had one daughter, Genevieve Burdick, born December 10, 1892 in DeRuyter, NY. She also graduated from Alfred University and married Arthur Loland Penny of West Hampton, Long Island, New York.

Calphurnia “Callie” Fitz Randolph, born October 21, 1854. Callie married John Meathrell April 18,1882 and spent her life on a farm near Berea. Callie died October 26, 1948. Callie and John had four children:

1. Julia Eliza Meathrell, born Feb 28, 1883 in New Milton, WV, died June 17, 1964 in Berea

2. Rupert Richard Meathrell, born June 3, 1884, married Dottie Bee on April 19, 1911. He was a foreman on the B&O Railroad.

3. Conza, born June 17, 1886, a high school teacher, died in Salem, WV

4. Draxie, born March 19, 1888, married Ruben Marion Brissey in 1922

Emza Fitz Randolph, born June 11, 1857, married Rev. A. W. Coon, Seventh Day Baptist minister in Salem, WV in 1888 and died a few years later without children

Virgil Fitz Randolph, born February 22, 1860 in Berea, WV. Virgil taught a few years after finishing his PhD at Alfred University, then became a farmer. He married Mary Eloise Yale on February 28, 1894 in Wellsville, NY. Mary was born October 10, 1866 in Wellsville, NY and died Janaury 25, 1930. Virgil died August 28, 1950 in Alfred, NY. Virgil and Mary had a son, Winston Yale Fitz Randolph, born December 10, 1907, who was an engineer, and who married Helen Jaunita Fanton in 1927.

Ellsworth Fitz Randolph, born August 12, 1862 in Berea, WV.. Ellsworth bought the Hise Davis farm from his father, married Sarah Virginia Stalnaker December 3, 1890. Sarah was born July 21, 1870. They settled down on the farm. He had a fine team of horses and did lots of logging in the winter. While logging for Zeke Bee May 17, 1905, he was accidentally killed. They had one child, Blondie, born November 17, 1900, married Joice Jones in 1927, and who was a school principal in West Virginia.

Andrew Core Fitz Randolph, born March 10, 1865, died May 14, 1866

Alva Fitz Randolph, born April 20, 1867, in Berea, WV. A graduate of Alfred University, who married Mary Caroline Hoff on May 3, 1888 in Auburn, VA. Alva graduated from Alfred University and settled down near Alfred. He organized the Allegany County Farm Bureau, was president of it for 15 years, and was also President of the Alfred Farmers’ Co-op Association . Mary died April 19, 1944 and Alva died July 17, 1949 in Alfred. They had five children: (Is this Jerry Snyder’s farm??)

1. Fucia, born June 18, 1889 in Berea, a graduate of Alfred University, and a teacher at the Seventh Day Baptist Mission School in Fouke, Arkansas.

2. Elizabeth, born October 10, 1890 in Alfred, a graduate of Alfred University, a student of Theology at Alfred and Oberlin, Ohio, an ordained Seventh Day Baptist minister and a traveling evangelist.

3. Lowell, born October 7, 1894 in Alfred and married Fanny Rane September 15, 1921 in Boston. They worked at Cornell University in Ithaca, NY and had three children: Robert, Jane and Rane.

4. Florence, born March 4, 1899 in Alfred, married on March 15, 1920 to Eldon Lee of LeRoy, NY, and died September 20, 1927 in Aurora, Colorado

5. Vida, born June 7, 1903 and married James T. Barrs of Cadwell, GA on September 2, 1931. Vida received her Bachelor’s degree from Alfred University and Masters at Harvard University. She worked in a hospital laboratory in Boston. James received his PhD from Harvard and was the Registrar of Southern Georgia College in Douglas, Georgia. They had two daughters and a son, names withheld as they are likely living.

Cleora “Cleo” Fitz Randolph, born September 27, 1869, moved to New York taught for several years, married Eugene “Gene” C. Jordan of Clarksville, NY on May 21, 1903. Eugene died April 11, 1925 and Cleo lived with one of Gene’s sons in Pennsylvania.

Alois Preston Fitz Randolph, born Sept 7, 1872, married Jennie Mae Sutton in 1895. They are my great-grandparents, more information is in the section below, and the autobiography of Alois is on this web site.

Felix Fitz Randolph, born April 30, 1875 and died two weeks later on May 13, 1875

Delvinus “Delvia” Fitz Randolph, born May 13, 1876 in Berea, WV. He graduated from Alfred University, married Henrietta Short of Elmira, NY in Elmira in 1904, and moved to California for her health. In 1950 he was retired and living with his second wife, first name Marie. He died November 4, 1958. Delvia and Henrietta had two children:

1. Dorothy, born August 21, 1905 in Rochester, NY

2. Beach, born July 5, 1908 and married in 1934

Also tagged Alfred New York, Alois Preston Fitz Randolph, Arthur, Asa Fitz Randolph, baptist, berea, fitz randolph, Jennie Mae Sutton, Meathrell, new york, randolph, salem, Seventh Day Baptist, sutton, tan yard, virginia, west virginia – No Comments

Chapter 1 – Family Connections

April 19, 2009

My Parents: My father, Asa Fitz Randolph, was born in Salem in 1833, the son of Doctor John Fitz Randolph, being the only son by the first marriage. He had five half brothers—James, Reverend Gideon Henry (who was a Missionary to China about 1890), Joel (who was chief of police of Salem for many years), Steven and Thomas. These are all deceased. Two of the sons of Uncle Henry are Seventh Day Baptist ministers—John is pastor at Berea, West Virginia; and Wardner is missionary in Jamaica, British West Indies.

Mother, Marvel Maxson, was born on Greenbrier in 1832, the daughter of John Maxson. Her mother was one of a large family of Bees, all of whom were Seventh Day Baptists. The most famous of these were Ezekiel, (who was pastor of the Pine Grove Church at Berea for many years) and Ehriam (who went to Richmond to the state legislature before the war).

Mother had one sister, Annetta (who married Grandfather for his second wife), and two brothers, Nathan (who moved to Ohio about 1865) and Elisha John (who spent most of his married life on Otter Slide near Berea). Her father, John Maxson, was a very consecrated Christian and a local preacher. As nearly all the Randolph ministers from West Virginia were direct descendants since their mother or grandmother was a daughter of John Maxson, this, I feel, was inherited from him. Her brother Elisha lived to be past 97 in years.

Father ran a tan yard for Grandfather and had a tan yard of his own until he left West Virginia. I will mention several experiences in the tan yard later in this article.

The chance for schooling was very limited, and Father never got more than three quarters or nine months of schooling until after he was married. He had a felon on the thumb of his right hand which kept his arm in a sling for 18 months. Part of this time he went to school. Later he cut his leg very badly; as soon as he was able to ride, he went to school. He read much and was especially good in figures. In fact, one of his teachers said that he did not need to study arithmetic—he could make one. His interest in education is shown in the fact that of the nine children who grew up, all went to college at least a year, and five have a degree.

Mother was as much interested in education as Father, but she did not have as good a chance as he. I think she could read about like a third grader. She was a very great worker; in fact, I have heard her say that the only request she made of Father before they were married was that he would furnish her plenty of work. She was also an excellent manager. I believe there is no doubt but what she had much to do with his making a success financially.

Father and Mother were married in the fall of l852 at Washington, Pennsylvania. (The grandchildren and the great-grandchildren must skip this.) They eloped! Father said that Grandfather promised him if he would stay at home until he was 21 he would give him the shoemakers trade. But when he arranged to stay, Grandfather forgot the deal; so Father did too. (This should be a lesson to all parents, except me, to keep their word.)

They lived on the waters of Bone Creek for a while, then on Middle Island until 1857, when they bought the farm on the South Branch of the Hughes River, a mile below Berea, where I was born and reared.

My Siblings: There were eleven of us, of which I was the ninth. Two died as infants, but the rest of us grew up and married. There are four of us still living—Virgil, who is 90; Cleo, 80; myself, 78; and Delvia, soon to be 74. We are a long-lived family. Callie lived to be 94, and Alva was 81.

Of the nine, Perie was the most noted; she became a Seventh Day Baptist preacher. She married when she was 35 to Leon B. Burdick, whom she educated and made a preacher. They had one daughter.

Callie married John Meathrell and spent her life on a farm near Berea. They had four children—Julia, Rupert, Conza, and Draxie (who married Ruben Brissey). They are all living.

Emza married the Reverend A. W. Coon and died a few years later.

Virgil taught a few years after finishing college, then became a farmer. He married Mary Wells. They had one son, who is now an engineer.

Ellsworth bought the Hise Davis farm from Father, married Sarah Stalnaker, and settled down on the farm. He had a fine team of horses and did lots of logging in the winter. While logging for Zeke Bee in the spring of 1905, he was accidentally killed. He and I had been more than brothers—we had been companions for years. If one needed help, the other helped him. If there was sickness, the other was there to help in any way possible. Things have never been quite the same since his death. They had one child, Blondie, who is now principal of a school in West Virginia.

Alva married Mary Hoff. He finished college at Alfred with the best grades of anyone who had ever graduated there. He settled down near Alfred and became a famous farmer and leader in farm activities. They had five children—Fucia, Elizabeth, Lowell, Florence and Vida. Florence died in young womanhood, shortly after she married. Elizabeth is an ordained minister of the Seventh Day Baptist denomination. She is now a traveling evangelist.

Cleora (Cleo) went to New York, taught for some years and then married Gene Jordan. Gene died a few years ago, and she is now living in Pennsylvania with one of Gene’s boys, Leon.

Delvinus (Delvia) went through school at Alfred, married and moved to California for his wife’s health. They had two children, but I never knew anything about them. He is retired now and living with his second wife.

The last two mentioned, Cleo and Delvia, and I were inseparable from earliest childhood. Where one went, we all three went. We would go after the cows together until Cleo was almost grown. We had a deal with mother in which we were to feed and care for the chickens and gather the eggs. When we took her twelve eggs, the next one was ours. We made lots of money, for eggs were often worth 5 cents or 10 cents a dozen. We really felt we were in business. Prices are just a little different now.

Mother died when I was 15; three years later Cleo went to New York; and then in 1892 Father took Delvia to New York, which broke up this trio. Oh, that we three could be together for at least a few days! But we are separated by many miles, and none of us has the money to travel so far, I fear, and age is creeping up on us. Blessed are the memories!

Grandfather, Dr. John Randolph

Before I begin the record of my own life, I think I had best give a paragraph to my Grandfather Randolph, as I have already given a short account of Grandfather Maxson. Doctor John Randolph was the son of Jesse Randolph by his first wife, whom he married soon after coming to Salem with the church in 1792. Doctor John was much better educated than most of those of his day. He was a stone mason and helped build the Pike through Salem. He practiced medicine without any special preparation, so was called Doctor John. He had a very keen mind, but I think was very self-willed.

I will give one anecdote about him. Uncle Elisha and he went to a revival meeting down at Bristol. A girl who had worked for Grandfather for years went down the aisle shouting her best, and Grandfather called to her, “Where are you going, Bet?” She replied, “To heaven, I hope.” Just then she reached a young man who had been going with her and threw herself into his arms. Grandfather said, “You have got there now, Bet!”

Also tagged Alfred New York, Asa Fitz Randolph, baptist, berea, Dr. John Randolph, fitz randolph, Meathrell, new york, otter slide, Pine Grove Church, randolph, salem, Seventh Day Baptist, tan yard, virginia, west virginia – No Comments

Alfred Station “Happenings” to Remember

April 6, 2009

How privileged I was to be invited to join the School of Theology professors in attending the Steuben County Ministers Association. Dean Bond, President Norwood, Dr. Edrar Van Horn and I often rode to the meetings together. The conversations were always stimulating–and sometimes hilarious. Papers read by members of the association on relevant religious topics were discussed and evaluated on the rides home.

I remember a Minister’s meeting held in the Gothic chapel when Dean Bond presented a paper on The Sabbath. In the discussion that followed the Episcopal priest from Hornell pontificated, “I believe every Sunday should be a “little Resurrection”, and every Saturday should be a “little Creation”.

It was at one of the Minister’s meetings that I met Rabbi Karl Wiener. He was the Rabbi of the Reformed Jewish congregation in Hornell. With his wife, Eva, he had escaped from Nazi Germany and had come to the United States by way of Israel. Madeline and I and Karl and Eva developed a warm, vital friendship that has lasted through the years. (More on this friendship later.)

I have never enjoyed a richer fellowship with ministers than in The Ministerium of Greater Alfred and the Upper Reaches of the Kanakadea. Alfred University Chaplain William (Bill) Genne and Betty; Alfred Pastor Everett (Ev) Harris and Clora and Madeline and I had lunch together twice a month. It was always fun being together but there were often serious matters to share and discuss. Bill was a confirmed pacifist and our discussions on that theme often caused deep soul-searching among us.

The three of us became involved in a serious situation with the Board of Education. The board refused to divulge why they fired the high school principal, appreciated in the community for his long tenure and excellent record. With approval from the principal–who insisted he was not told why he was being dismissed–we confronted the board for answers. They gave us none but out of community-wide pressure, the board established a policy giving the public access to their deliberations and decisions. Our efforts were not without good and lasting results. (Bill and Betty honored me by having me perform a Service of Dedication for their baby son, Tom.)

It was a major event in the life of the Second Alfred Church when Dr. Dumont Clark, founder of The Lord’s Acre Plan, shared the plan with our congregation. Dr. Clark was a charming, white-haired minister from the south who presented his Lord’s Acre Plan with enthusiasm and fervor. It was a joy having him as our guest. Our congregation “bought” the Lord’s Acre Plan and incorporated it in our program for several years.

Along with many individual Lord’s Acre projects the first year, we carried on a joint project by planting five acres of buckwheat on land donated by Irving Palmiter. Though there was a profit from the harvest of the buckwheat, it was not as much as expected because the deer rolled in the buckwheat and ate around the edges of the field. Some wag in Alfred Station said, “The deer ate the Lord’s buckwheat”. The Lord’s Acre Sale each fall was supported by people from the area and raised appreciable monies for the church budget.

Madeline sustained a serious injury in the Alfred Station parsonage. Half awake and missing the hall light switch, she walked through the open stairway door in the dark and fell seventeen stairs down onto the kitchen floor. I carried her back up the stairs to bed. Her back pain did not improve over several weeks so we sought help from an orthopedic specialist in Rochester. He advised an operation with six weeks in bed to recuperate. For a second opinion a specialist in Buffalo suggested sleeping on a hard bed and letting time bring healing. We followed that course with some success but Madeline has never been free of some back pain.

The first funeral I was called on to conduct was for a seventy-five year old man from Olean, New York. No one in Alfred Station remembered the man. His wife, from whom he had been separated, told me he did not believe in God but she thought she ought to take him through a church.

As you can doubtless appreciate, the funeral service I conducted was brief. It was reported to me that the undertaker, Phil Place, when asked how the young preacher had done, said, “I like that young man. He’s short”.

My first wedding in the Second Alfred church united Elmer Willard and Bertha Lewis in marriage. Elmer has had a successful career as a school principal and Bertha was an elementary teacher until their retirement.

Charles Bond, with whom I had grown up in Salem, came to the School of Theology to study for the ministry. Madeline and I enjoyed having him spend-a number of weekends with us. During a Christmas vacation in Salem Charley and Margaret Skaggs were married. Margie had to return to Plainfield for a couple of weeks after the wedding and when Charley returned to school to told us about the wedding. He regretted that the Salem friends had not serenaded them. (They were prepared with refreshments). In West Virginia they called it a “serenade”–in New York it’s a “shivaree”.

When Charley and Margie were together in Alfred, we invited them for dinner and a movie with us. On the pretense of taking Anne to a baby sitter, we left the newly weds at the parsonage. By prearrangement, our church people were gathered at the church with all sorts of noisemakers. We surrounded the parsonage and broke the silence with all the noise possible. (Fred Palmer had a public address system with which we summoned the couple to come out). When our bewildered guests could no longer stand the racket they came out to greet their tormentors. We concluded the evening with a reception for the Bonds in the church social room.

When Charles Bond became Pastor of the Hebron, Pennsylvania Seventh Day Baptist church he invited me to preach evangelistic sermons on two weekends with the two of us visiting in the community during the week.

Also tagged baptist, Baptist Church, bera, bond, lewis, new york, sabbath, salem, Seventh Day Baptist, virginia, west virginia – No Comments

Beginnings in Ministry

April 6, 2009

On December 17, 1938 the Salem Seventh Day Baptist Church, where I had kept my membership to that time, acted officially to license me to preach. It was thrilling to become involved in the life and program of a church so vital and dedicated. It was heartening to have the people accepting of my ideas and patient with my inevitable mistakes.

I submit that there were few rural churches with music programs of the quality we enjoyed in Alfred Station. The adult choir was blessed with good voices in all four parts and under the professional direction of Mrs. Lois Scholes the choir sang the most uplifting choral church music.

Mrs. Scholes was a rare soul with whom Madeline and I became warm friends. Coming to our church to direct the choir–two trips a week–was a labor of love with her. She did insist on being paid $1.00 a trip because, she said, “If you pay me, you can fire me any time.” Lois often made suggestions for changes in the worship services that I was reluctant to introduce for fear the congregation was not ready for such innovative ideas. It was a joy to work with her and I learned many lessons as I came under her dynamic spirit.

Madeline, whose music education in college was extensive, organized and directed a junior choir in the church. Robes were sewed for them and they made a fine contribution to the church worship when they sang.

One idea I had difficulty selling to the church was the conducting of Friday night (Sabbath Eve) worship services. I felt that welcoming the Sabbath with a service in the church was highly appropriate and that such services could bring in community people who would not otherwise be served. Our farming people who lived some distance from the church, liked to take their baths and study their Sabbath school lessons Friday nights.

At one diaconate meeting I pressed again to begin Sabbath Eve services and Deacon Fred Pierce said, “The Pastor wants Sabbath Eve services and I move we let him have them.” That could have been interpreted more than one way but we did plan and lead a long series of services on Friday nights that were well received and attended. I believe those service outlines are still in my files.

After Madeline came to Alfred Station she continued to write her column for THE ALFRED SUN with the title, DAYS TO REMEMBER. The new demands on the Parson’s wife made it seem wise to discontinue the column after a few weeks.

The Boy Scout Troop continued to be active. He put a ping pong table in the front room of the parsonage and the boys were free to come any time. In the spring, after a hard sleet storm, the Scouts came to the parsonage with a strange bird in a cardboard box. It’s feet were webbed and its eyes were red. There was a topknot on its head that raised and lowered. It had been beaten down by the storm and was very weak. We knew it was a water bird so we filled our bath tub and set the bird in it. Our avian guest was obviously pleased when we dropped several of our goldfish in the tub and he swallowed them. When the goldfish were gone the Scouts caught minnows in the creek for him to eat. A bird authority at the university identified this bird as a Horned Grebe.

Our stranded Grebe stayed in our bath tub over the weekend, eating minnows and gaining strength. When we needed to use the bathroom, Scouts and children had to be shooed away from the edge of the tub. The bird bit little Anne’s finger with no serious results. On Monday we crowded the Grebe and eight children into a car and drove to Andover. First we took the bird to be banded by Mr. Watson. He was greatly pleased to band a bird that was only passing through. After the banding we went to Andover pond and set our guest down in the water. Immediately he dived several times and then took off to fly one lap around the pond and land almost at our feet. What a thrill It was like he was saying, “Thanks for everything, folks.” Mr. Watson reported to us that our bird stayed on the pond two or three days before continuing his migration to Greenland for the summer.

Dad and Mother Watts came to spend his vacation with us every year. One year he told me he had been reading a book on Amateur Telescope Making and wanted to grind a mirror for a telescope. My first reaction was to be skeptical. I knew he was an excellent craftsman but I feared grinding a telescope mirror might be too much for him. When I took Dad to visit professor Potter, physics professor at Alfred University who had ground mirrors, it was evident that Dad was already well read on the procedures of telescope making.

Our next trip was to the Corning Glassworks, in Corning, New York, where we interviewed Dr. Gates. Dr. Gates was one of the scientists who worked on the 200 inch Palomar telescope mirror. His son had been at Camp Gorton when I was director. He was most helpful, giving us two pyrex six inch mirror blanks and a source for Dad to order the supplies he needed for the grinding work.

When the folks visited the next year, Dad had the mirror ready for polishing. He set up the mirror on a barrel in the basement and proceeded with the polishing stage. He called me down one day to help him test the mirror, using a knife-edge test he had set up. There were two facing pages in his telescope making book with pictures showing how the mirror should and shouldn’t look with the test. I determined clearly that he had succeeded perfectly with the mirror. Dad had the mirror silvered commercially and their testing confirmed our opinion. He completed his first telescope by building an aluminum tube and a portable mount. Dad gave the finished telescope to me and I have enjoyed excellent viewing with it for more than fifty years. In the ensuing years he ground several mirrors. His crowning achievement, shortly before his death, was the completion of a twelve-and-a-.half inch mirror that is now in use in the John Watts Memorial Telescope at Camp Paul Hummel. More on this at a later point in my life story. I was so proud of Madeline’s Dad!

During our pastorate with the Second Alfred Church, Madeline had the rewarding experience of singing in a trio organized and trained by Mrs. Lois Scholes. Lois was a soprano and Madeline an alto. Betty, whose married name eludes me now, was the third member of the trio that achieved a near professional level of performance. They memorized their programs and sang them a capella. There were many requests for them to sing in our area. Mrs. Elma Strong, a close friend who sang in our church choir, replaced Betty.

Mrs. Scholes also organized a choral group called, Friends of Music. I believe Madeline and I both sang in that group. Music has enriched our lives.

Also tagged baptist, Baptist Church, fish, new york, sabbath, salem, Seventh Day Baptist – No Comments

The Gothic “Home is Where the Heart is”

April 6, 2009

Our apartment in the Gothic at the School of Theology in Alfred was waiting for us on our return from Schiff. A bedroom and living room were ours and we shared the kitchen and bathroom. Paul and Ruby Maxson lived in the apartment opposite our wing and Earl and Mabel Cruzan had a third living space. Luther Crichlow cooked in our kitchen, too. Marion Van Horn had left the Gothic to live with his new wife, Erma in her Alfred home.

Furnishings for our apartment were sparse but it might be said that we could have lived on love. The first visit paid us by Madeline’s parents, Dad Watts insisted we needed a better bed and bought one for us.

My Boy Scout work took me away from Alfred most week nights and I worried about the fire hazard at the Gothic. There were no fire escapes and the only exit from the second floor was by a long hallway and wooden stairs. I secured a length of very heavy rope that would reach from the bedroom window to the ground. Tied on one end to the heat register pipe, it could be thrown out the window for a person to slide down to safety. Instructing Madeline in how to accomplish this feat in case of fire was comforting to me. Fortunately, it was never necessary to use it.

Madeline’s first visit to Dr. Hitchcock was cause for deep concern. He feared that her condition was not normal and that she might not carry the baby to successful birth. It was our first brush with frightening realities that, in this case, did not prove to be true. Dr. Hitchcock served us faithfully and well through all our years in New York State. We had great confidence in him.

Perhaps our first rather serious disagreement should be documented. Newell Babcock–Calvin Babcock’s father–was an inveterate trader. He traded for the pure joy of trading and when he visited us he brought “trading stock” we would haggle over as I offered what I would exchange.

On one such visit Newell brought a nearly-new Corona portable typewriter that he had traded some radio parts for with an oil-worker friend. He was willing to sell the typewriter for $25.00–perhaps a third of what it was worth. Although I owned a Remington portable typewriter, I was certain the Corona would be marketable on the university campus at a good profit.

I bought the typewriter with our last $25.00 without consulting Madeline. She was incensed over, and uncomprehending of, how I could use our only dollars in such a transaction. I quickly had the Corona appraised and soon sold it for $35.00. There is no doubt in my mind of the rightness of Madeline’s rationale regarding this episode. She found it in her heart to soon forgive me.

Madeline’s adjustment to life in Alfred as a “theolog’s” wife was most gratifying to me. We had never seriously discussed whether she could become a Seventh Day Baptist or not. I believed that if becoming a Seventh Day Baptist was right for her to do, she would do it–without argument or pressure from me. Her fifty-six plus years as a devoted, dedicated Seventh Day Baptist give credence to the soundness of my thinking on this point. Dean Bond deserves credit for giving Madeline helpful counsel in matters of her Christian faith.

Madeline was excited when Mr. Frank Crumb, editor of THE ALFRED SUN, invited her to write a weekly column in his paper focusing on what was happening in the Gothic and the School of Theology on the Alfred University campus. She titled her column, GLIMPSES OF THE GOTHIC and the weekly series began December 9, 1938. We believe her remuneration was five cents per line. She bought a baby carriage with earnings from the column. Here are two poems she composed. he first one was in the May 12, 1938 column, the second in the May 19 column:

Ah, I must have a garden
With flowers blooming there.
Flowers that will tint the morning
And scent the evening air.

My love will plant my garden
And love will keep it neat;
Love for each little flower-face
Nestling at my feet.

For love is rarest beauty
And beauty brings releaser
For every pain or anguish
This loveliness brings peace.

Now I must plant my garden
And quickly make a start,
Exchanging thoughts for flowers
And plant–A garden in my heart!

The rain slid down our pointed roof
And ran across the eaves.
It fell so softly no one knew
It washed the May-born leaves.

I never have in all my life
Seen such a gentle rain.
There was no lusty, blowing strife,
No pounding on the pane.

Then all at once, the sun shone bright,
As if it did not know
The rain still fell so clean and light
Upon us here below.

The pine tree leaves hung bright with drops,
The grass was glistening so;
And all out-doors was glad to see
The lovely promise–a rainbow!

Imagine how proud Madeline’s published writing has made me always.

A happy experience of our year in the Gothic was getting well acquainted with uncle Alvah, aunt Mary and cousin Fucia. Uncle Alvah offered to pick up our $600 loan with a bank in Hornell and have us pay him in monthly payments without interest. We accepted his generous offer and this arrangement gave us opportunity to visit them every month when we made the payments. We were pleasantly surprised when uncle Alvah gave us clippings from the BUFFALO EVENING NEWS with excerpts from Madeline’s GLIMPSES OF THE GOTHIC. The column, LIFE ‘ROUND ABOUT US used Madeline’s material several times, and credited her for it. Fucia sometimes sent us home with a loaf of her fresh-baked bread.

Our plans and program in study and Scout work changed when Percy Dunn accepted the position of Executive for the Manhattan Boy Scout Council in New York City. Steuben Area Council asked me to work full time for them while they searched for a successor to Chief Dunn. With Dean Bond’s approval, I took the assignment in Scouting and continued to carry one course in school. There was concern by some of my professors that I might never return to the ministry. Dean Bond felt that the experience in Scouting was excellent preparation for serving the church. I have always appreciated his confidence in me.

On June 3, 1938, I took Madeline to the hospital in Hornell and Anne was born. I was alarmed at seeing our baby for the first time when they brought her from the delivery room. Never having seen a new-born, I was fearful that she might not be normal. As a Boy Scout Executive, perhaps I would have preferred that our baby be a boy. What a blessing Anne has been to us–and still is! I tried celebrating by smoking a cigar with Crich and Van. It didn’t go well at all.

While Madeline was in the hospital I woke one night with severe pain in my side. Fearing it might be appendicitis, I called Dr. Hitchcock. At his suggestion I walked about a block to his office and he took me to the university infirmary. In the morning I went to the hospital with Dr. Hitchcock and my entrance into Madeline’s room no doubt shocked her. There were ten days of intermittent sickness and testing in the hospital before my problem was diagnosed as a strictured tube from a kidney to the bladder. Two medical students observed the glystoseopic procedure that located and corrected the problem. Their interest made a painful experience more bearable for me.

One night, when Madeline and I were both in the hospital, I got out of bed and walked in my sleep down the hall toward her room. The night nurse on duty caught up with me and escorted me back to bed. When she asked where I was going I said, “I’m going to the farm”. Hospital gowns being what they are, I was embarrassed and greatly relieved to get back in bed. The next day Miss Crandall, the supervisor of nurses, visited me in my room and said, “I have a problem.” When I asked what the problem was, she replied, “All my nurses want to be on night duty.” The doctors who came in enjoyed the story, too.

Coming home to Madeline and baby daughter Anne was a joyous occasion. Ruth Powers, Madeline’s Bride’s Maid, came from West Virginia to help with our new baby. My recovery from the hospital experience was rapid and complete. I’m sure an anonymous member of the Boy Scout Council Board paid a major part of the hospital bill. We were prepared to meet the expense of Anne’s birth but not a ten-day medical and hospital bill.

Before the 1938 camping season began Wally Hill came to Steuben Area Council as the new executive replacing Percy Dunn. I was camp director at Camp Gorton again and was successful in recruiting two new staff members who were high school coaches in area communities. The two coaches and I rented a cottage on the lake near camp and our wives, with baby Anne, lived in it through the camping season. Dick Lambert, Arkport coach, and his wife, Beulah, became close friends. We were deeply saddened when Dick contracted polio and died.

The relationship between me and Wally Hill was not smooth. My complete loyalty to Percy Dunn and his method of operation made it difficult to adjust to a new Executive. I vigorously opposed Wally’s idea of changing the name of Camp Gorton. He did not accomplish that innovation. The 1938 camping season was successful and it was good to be back in the Gothic with Madeline and Anne, carrying a full seminary course. Now I was doing half-time Scout work again.

At some point during the fall semester in 1938 we were called upon to make a decision that would impact our lives in exciting ways. Dr. Edgar Van Horn had resigned after a long pastorate in the Second Alfred Church in Alfred Station and the church had “called” several ministers without success.

It was like a “bolt out of the blue” when Mr. Lynn Langworthy stopped me on the street in Alfred to inform me that Second Alfred Church was about to issue me a “call”. I was elated and stunned at once. It was significant that I was perhaps a year from receiving the Bachelor of Divinity degree. I felt greatly honored to be considered for so fine a pastorate but the $600.00 salary offered seemed woefully inadequate for our family needs. We had very few furnishings for a parsonage and we were still paying for our automobile.

In a meeting with the trustees of Second Alfred Church, I expressed a genuine enthusiasm for accepting the “call” but shared with them my feeling that $600.00 was hardly a subsistence salary. With the exception of one trustee, they asked among themselves, “Who thought a Pastor could live on $600.00?” Asking what my financial requirement would be, I suggested $900.00. They quickly agreed to that figure and I accepted the “call”. It is interesting that the one trustee indicated that “His financial concerns are no business of the church. He should either accept or reject the “call”. This person and his family chose to attend the Alfred church during my pastorate.

It is my memory that Madeline and I moved to the parsonage in Alfred Station about New Year 1939. The congregation welcomed us with a party to which they brought many useful gifts. Deacon Palmiter, Erving Palmiter’s father, gave us a rocking chair that must have been a treasured possession.

My first efforts at preaching were traumatic for me. The perspiration would drip off of my nose and chin and if I wiped it off it would come out again. By sheer will power I persevered and in time overcame the problem.

Dr. Harry Emerson Fosdick inspired me in those days. I listened to his radio sermons regularly and read his books. Again I cut back my course load at school and so took five years for the three year course, graduating in 1941. In my first days in Alfred Station I leaned heavily on Dean Bond’s counsel.

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Boy Scouts to the Rescue

April 6, 2009

There were times in my early seminary days when I wondered if I was doing the right thing. Intellectually and spiritually I was plowing new ground. My self esteem and ego were sometimes low. I needed a lift and accepting the position of Scoutmaster for a new Troop of rural boys in Alfred Station gave me that lift.

My memory is that there were ten or twelve boys in this new Troop. Leighton Austin was the assistant Scoutmaster with me. Outdoor activities were what the boys liked most. We bought material for a fire-by-friction tool and experimented with it ‘til we could light fires with it. From that time on all our campfires were lighted with fire-by-friction. A dramatic achievement.

I recall a winter snow hike on Hartsville hill when we built a fire and hung a large pot of hunter’s stew over it to cook while we chose up sides for a snow battle. If you were hit by a snowball from the enemy, you went over to that side. So the game went on and on until the stew was ready. It was good.

In the summer we found an ideal campsite on the bank of the Filmore Valley trout stream. Our overnight camps there were great fun.

It was a turning point in my life when I attended a Steuben Area Boy Scout Council training course in Bath, New York. There I met Percy L. Dunn, the Scout Executive for the Council. Neither of us knew then that we would impact each others lives in many important ways for years to come.

The summer of 1936, following my first year in seminary was coming up and 1 I didn’t know what I would be doing. So, on an impulse, I asked “Chief” Dunn if there were any job openings for the Council summer camp–Camp Gorton. He answered that they needed a craft director and wondered if I could qualify.

The truth was that I had little experience with crafts but I believed I could learn quickly and the craft projects the Boy Scouts did were mostly from kits that required minimal skills. I was promised the job that night and left that first meeting with Percy Dunn with mixed emotions–elation at the prospect of a Boy Scout camp summer and anxiety over my ability to do the craft job. Chief Dunn arranged for me to attend a two day workshop in Rochester where I learned to braid “boondoggle” and other craft skills I would be working with.

My employment at Camp Gorton began a month before the Scouts came. Chief Dunn took me and Floyd “Beef” Crane to camp where we lived and worked doing the many maintenance jobs needed before the opening of camp. “Beef” was the camp cook and a friendly, easy-going young man. We got along well, had good meals, and accomplished the necessary work assignments. Our pay was $1.00 a day.

Camp Gorton, owned by the Steuben Area Boy Scout Council, was located on the shore of Lake Waneta, east of Hammondsport and Keuka Lake–a finger lake. Waneta was a twin lake with Lamoka, joined by a channel. The farm land bordering on the channel is an ancient Indian site, called the Lamoka site, dating back to five hundred years before Christ—the oldest Indian site in York State. One-hundred-fifty Scouts were in camp for one week periods during the summer. The adult and junior staff numbered about twenty. During the 1936 camping season we had three directors: an Alfred University dean, a retired army captain and a Presbyterian District Superintendent.

Serving on the Camp Gorton staff was an ego-builder for me. The staff were all high quality men with whom I related happily. In addition to being craft director, I assumed a number of roles including leading songs and conducting church services. I supervised the construction of an attractive outdoor chapel. I enjoyed participating in the campfire programs, too. My status as craft director would have been in jeopardy but for the talent and excellent performance of James Wymant. He was a high school senior, skilled in crafts and dedicated to Scouting. I could not have had a better assistant.

My relationship with Percy Dunn strengthened during the camp season. He asked me to go with him and his wife, Clara, when they took their son, Larry, to the Doctor to have stitches in his head from a wound inflicted by a golf club swung by brother, George. (Percy was prone to fainting at the sight of blood.) The Dunn family, who lived in the “Chief’s cabin” by the lake, were: wife, Clara; daughter Ruth and sons, Larry, George and John.

Imagine what a shock it was, not long after the end of camp in 1936, to receive an announcement from the Scout Council office that Randy Randolph would be the director at Camp Gorton for the 1937 season. I had not been consulted before this announcement and my first thought was that the Chief was only using my name until he could recruit a qualified camp director. It was a bonafide appointment that catapulted me into a role of high responsibility when I was twenty-three years old.

1937 certainly was a BANNER YEAR in the unfolding of my life story. The Scouting experience gave me a strong sense of direction and worth, enhanced by the trust Scout Executive Percy Dunn placed in me. My involvement in Scouting was to take on even greater importance for me in the years to come.

Entering my second year in seminary, I moved into the Gothic with my classmates, Luther Crichlow and Marion Van Horn. We each had our own room and shared the kitchen and bath. It was a really good living arrangement that bonded us and brought our friendship to a deeper level.

I made friends with a ceramic student named Davidson. We cooked and shared our meals at least for a semester. Davey went to his farm home weekends and brought wonderful canned food and meat back for us week after week. remember finding a large puffball on campus that I fried for us. Davey was skeptical about this mushroom and may have refused to eat any of it. I confess he caused me to worry that evening over whether the puffball was safe. English steak was a favorite with us–hamburger mixed with egg and chopped green pepper.

Miss Creighton headed the women’s physical education department for the university. She made archery an important part of the program and I worked out a deal to repair arrows for us. For ten cents an arrow I replaced tips, glued on feathers, straightened shafts, etc. It was a good spare time activity.

Crich was a city boy, having grown up in Washington, D.C. It was fun introducing him to the natural world around us. One day as we were hiking on pine hill I spotted rabbit tracks going into a brush pile. I said to Crich, “There’s a rabbit in that brush pile and I’ll scare him out for you to see.” Crich laughed in disbelief until I jumped on the brush pile and the rabbit came out. From then on he appreciated what to him was my superior out-of-doors knowledge.

It was somewhere in this time frame that Marion (Van) and Erma Burdick began a serious relationship. Erma was an Alfred girl who lived with her Mother. Crich was a great “kidder” and the two of us gave Van a difficult time as he carried on his courtship with Erma.

It’s fun to remember when Crich decided to trap the mice that frequented the Gothic. Finding a mouse in one of the traps he had set, we tied it to the end of a light cord in the hallway where he would grab it in the dark. We were not granted the satisfaction of knowing how he reacted on lighting the light.

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The Transition–Leaving Home and Entering Graduate Study

April 6, 2009

The summer of ’35 was a period of crucial change in several areas of my life. My classmate friend, Byron Whitford, from Little Genesee, New York, invited me to spend the summer with his family before entering the School of Theology in September. Being in New York State appealed to me if for no other reason than I would close to Helen Mae Button.

In the beginning of the summer Byron and I teamed up with his Dad, Ferris Whitford, selling HURLBURTIS STORY OF THE BIBLE and Bibles door to door in the rural area around Little Genesee. Our salesmanship was not very productive so we gave up on that project. Next Byron and I undertook cutting wood for a pulp mill. I believe we were to receive $6.00 per cord. The trees we cut were elm and willow growing near a stream. Our task was to cut down the trees–some quite large–saw them into four foot lengths, debark them and stack them in cords. I enjoyed working with ax and two man crosscut saw but Byron was inexperienced and that slowed our production. We didn’t stay with it long.

When it was the season to harvest hay, I moved to Helen Mae’s home and began working in the hay fields for neighboring farmers. The pay was $1.00 a day and dinner. I helped harvest the hay for three farmers I can remember and stayed in the Button home nights. Haying was hard, hot work but I soon learned the correct techniques for “pitching,” “cocking”, “mowing away” etc. When I stopped at Mr. Guilford’s barn for my pay, he stood up from his milking stool, paid me and said, “You were better help than I thought you would be”. (I had letters of recommendation from president Bond and Dean Harley Bond but the farmers weren’t interested in them.) It was while we were in a hay field at work that news came of the death of Will Rogers and Wiley Post in an airplane crash in Alaska on a round-the-world flight.

It was very pleasant living in the Button home while working on surrounding farms but as the summer wore on it became increasingly obvious that Helen Mae was no longer interested in more than a casual friendship with me. I suspect that through our correspondence she may have fantasized a “me” that didn’t measure up to her expectations. It is fair to say that I was devastated by the breakup of what I hoped would be a lasting and deepening relationship. She went to Salem College as a sophomore and I entered the Alfred University School of Theology. It tore at my heartstrings when friends in Salem reported to me that the word on the campus was, “Button, Button, who’s got the Button?”

I attended General Conference at Alfred in August and stayed with my uncle Alvah and Aunt Mary Randolph. Uncle Alvah was said to have the highest grade average of any Alfred alumnus up to that time. He taught me a valuable lesson that has helped me through the years.

At Conference I was asked to speak on the Young People’s program. wrote a speech and asked uncle Alvah to critique it for me. In the introduction I was apologetic. Who was I to be addressing the General Conference, etc., etc.?” On reading my speech, uncle Alvah said, “Elmo, if you have to apologize for what you’re going to say, don’t say it.” I rewrote the speech and have always been thankful for the advise.

How the arrangement came about, I can’t remember but Bertha Lewis went from Alfred Station, New York, to Salem College and lived with my mother. My first year in seminary I lived in Alfred Station with Bertha’s mother, Ivanna Lewis and high school age daughter, Jean. Mrs. Lewis was a brilliant woman who was Postmistress of the Alfred Station Post Office for many years. In high school Jean was an outstanding student. I enjoyed an interesting, happy year in the Lewis home. It was often fun teasing Jean and then retreating to my room where she was not allowed to enter. Ivanna Lewis was an educated conversationalist and a good listener. She helped me through homesickness and intellectual and spiritual trauma. The two mile walk to and from Alfred was good exercise but there were times when the wind and the cold were intense.

It was sometimes difficult going in the beginning days at the School of Theology. (Before leaving home in Salem I went to Pastor Shaw for any advice he might have for me. He simply said, “Just use your good horse sense.”) I did experience some loneliness and homesickness. It was my first extended time away from home and Mamma. Then, too, I had been in the limelight through college in Salem and in Alfred few university students knew me or cared. No doubt I suffered a deflated ego from the ending of my romance with Helen Mae.

There were three of us in Dean Bond’s first class: Marion Van Horn, Luther Crichlow and I. Through our years together we developed warm, strong ties of deep friendship. Marion was the son of a Seventh Day Baptist minister, Christopher Van Horn. I believe he was a Milton College graduate. His health was precarious. Luther Crichlow, a Negro, was a graduate of Howard University in Washington, D.C. He was a fine trumpet player and had played varsity football in college. (Alfred’s football coach persuaded Luther to play tackle on a winning team one year.) I believe Luther Crichlow was the first Negro I had known personally. He and I became fast friends during our years together. The three of us, with Dean Bond, became quite successful singing as a quartet.

I came to seminary with an open mind. There was no preconceived intellectual or theological position I was committed to defend. The conservative religious beliefs of Lon and Amelia Button seemed to work good in their lives and so I thought to lean in that direction until something better came along. In church and college experience I had been surrounded with people of intellectual integrity who practiced genuine Christian principals in their daily lives. The School of Theology proved to be an excellent environment in which to discover direction and meaning for my life.

Dean A.J.C. Bond served as a safe harbor in a stormy sea for me often. He brought a wealth of knowledge and experience to his role as Dean. Perhaps even more importantly, he loved and understood his students. A rich sense of humor was one of the attributes we lauded him for. His teaching field included Bible, homiletics and Seventh Day Baptist polity and beliefs. How fortunate we were to come under his teaching and to have him as a counselor and friend.

Dr. Edgar Van Horn was our professor of practical theology, giving us the techniques of pastoring and administering a church and congregation. In addition to his teaching, he pastored the Second Alfred Church in Alfred Station.

The whole range of history courses related to Christianity and other religions were taught by Dr. Walter Green. We admired him for his prodigious knowledge of his field and his enthusiasm in sharing it. In his college days he had been formidable as a football player. His presence was impressive.

Frail, sweet, elderly Dr. Powell was our Greek professor. Some university student wag was reported to say that he knew Dr. Powell moved because when he saw him at one point on the sidewalk and then looked minutes later he was not in the same place. Dr. Powell had a passion for Greek and tried valiantly to imbue us with it.

The little chapel in the Gothic was a perfect setting for the Sabbath Eve worship services Crich and Van and I conducted for Seventh Day Baptist university students. We took turns leading the services and received excellent support from the dozen or more faithful attendees. It was also in this chapel that we did our practice preaching under Dean Bond’s critical but compassionate ear and eye.

Another activity the three of us became en-aged in was the publication and distribution of the Seventh Day Baptist Youth Newsletter, THE BEACON. We ran each issue off on a mimeograph and when it broke down one option was to end the publication. Instead, we mounted a campaign with youth across the denomination to raise a fund for the purchase of a new mimeograph machine. The campaign was successful and publication of THE BEACON continued.

My first opportunity to conduct a Sabbath Morning Worship Service came when Pastor Harley Sutton invited me take over for him in the Little Genesee Seventh Day Baptist Church one Sabbath. I prepared an eight-typed-page sermon and placed the manuscript on the pulpit at the beginning of the service. At the insistence of the choir director, I wore a choir robe with flowing sleeves and before time for the sermon caught the robe sleeve in the corner of the sermon manuscript. Page by page the sermon fluttered to the floor.

A quick decision was called for. Did I go down the steps, stoop over in my robe, pick up the pages one by one and finally, put them in order? I thought, “I wrote this sermon and I know what’s in it, so let it lay.” I preached without the manuscript and at the close of the service an elderly lady stopped to shake hands and said, “If that was your first sermon, I’d like to hear your last one.” I did not ask her to explain her meaning.

On several occasions our Dean arranged for us to visit other seminaries for guest lectures or conferences. One such visit was to an Interseminary Conference at Gettysburg Theological Seminary in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. On the afternoon before the conference began we three had a guided tour of the Gettysburg Civil War battlefield. The experience left a deep impression on us.

At dinner time Crich, Van and I went into a Gettysburg restaurant to eat. As we checked the menu, the waiter said, “Do you want to eat it here or take it out?” Taken aback, we replied, “We want to eat here.” Then the waiter said–looking at Crich–”Your friend can’t eat here.” When he suggested the two of us could stay and eat we informed him, “This place isn’t good enough for us, either”. We were stunned to experience blatant racial discrimination so near the site of a decisive Civil War battle fought less than a century ago.

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The Salem College Years–An Adventure in Higher Education

April 6, 2009

Almost my entire life had been lived next door to the Salem College campus. It would be difficult to put a value on the opportunity afforded me to get a college education. However, there was the question of expense–tuition, books, etc. The Great Depression was still hanging over us and for our family it was a struggle to survive. From the perspective of the college it was important to recruit as many new students as possible, I suppose.

I am forever grateful that an arrangement was made with the administration of the college for me to work out my tuition doing maintenance and janitorial work during the summer months. I don’t remember how much the tuition was. By today’s standards it would be ridiculously low. The arrangement was for me to work ten hours a day, six days a week, during the summer vacation months. The hourly pay rate began at 25 cents and was later raised to 30 cents. A big advantage of the plan for me was that 1 could participate fully in the academic and social programs of college during the school year.

Being a Salem College Freshman was exciting. Friendships quickly developed with classmates and upper classmen. Introduction to a variety of courses, and their professors, was stimulating. At some point I decided to major in English and minor in physical education. The curriculum I chose stressed a liberal arts education including literature, mathematics, history, chemistry, French, physical education and music. Throughout the first three years of college I was committed to preparation to be high school teacher.

I feel especially privileged to have studied math under Dean M. H. Van Horn. He was considered to be one of the outstanding math teachers in I-lest Virginia. The course I had with him introduced us to algebra, geometry and trigonometry.

Chemistry introduced me to science with Dr. Gould as teacher. The lab work was most interesting–especially the experiments in qualitative analysis.

Dr. Ferdinand Ruge taught French and deserved the role of most eccentric professor on campus. There was the incident when he put his lighted pipe in his pocket before stepping on campus. As he walked down the hall, smoke was observed rolling up from his pocket. The pipe was removed promptly.

Dr. Ruge made a practice of harassing one or more students in his French class. He chose me for that dubious role and once said such offensive things about me that I slammed my books on the floor and confronted him eyeball to eyeball. From that time forward Dr. Ruge and I became fast friends. On learning that I planned to enter the ministry, he offered sage advice. Two examples: “Don’t ever preach to the people what they ought to hear. Preach to them what they want to hear. If you preach to them what they ought to hear, the moving van will back up to your door.” “The choir and the ladies aid are the war department of the church” (Dr. Ruge had been an Episcopalian minister). I was invited to tea several times with Dr. Ruge, his lovely wife and daughter, Genevieve.

My English and Literature professors were Dr. M. Channing Linthicum and Miss Nannie Lowe. Dr. Linthicum once suggested to me that I could make a successful politician. Is it not true that a successful minister must be something of a politician? Becoming familiar with English and American literature–especially poetry–inspired me in ways that have lasted through my life.

Pastor George B. Shaw, beloved minister of our Salem Seventh Day Baptist Church, taught a Bible course that was very popular with Salem College students. I still treasure the textbook he authored and have used it often.

I was the first male student to take the Table Service course offered by Miss Cleo Gray. She headed the home economics department and in the course we worked in teams to prepare and serve a number of meals, teas and receptions. College officials were invited as guests for these occasions. I baked an angel food cake and a meatloaf as assignments and for the table decoration for one event I decided to use dandelions. I arranged the decoration in advance of the event but alas, when the class members and guests gathered the dandelions had all closed up. My experience in the Table Service course paved the way for other college men, including a number of athletes, to benefit by it. What I learned from Miss Gray has been invaluable to me through the years.

The credits I acquired in the music department came close to being enough for a minor. Music courses with Miss Elizabeth Bond included Music Appreciation and Sight Singing. I studied piano with Miss Bond and reached the level of playing Chopin and Brahms in recitals. It is one of my educational regrets that I did not become a more proficient pianist.

Following is the text of a brief paper written as an assignment in the Music Appreciation class. At the end of the piece is a comment signed, E. Bond.

“Using the word “appreciation” in its most sincere and deep sense I feel that Music Appreciation has really meant a great deal to me. Strangely enough, Music Appreciation has never seemed to be “just another course”, but rather it has stood among my activities as something finer, something that has had a real appeal–a subject devoted to happiness and true beauty.

I have learned to love music and all that it carries with it. Beautiful melodies and harmonies stir up feelings within me that reach far into my being.

Everything about me seems to have suddenly turned musical. Birds wake me in the morning with their happy chorus and their evening songs haunt my sleep. Nature seems especially musical.

Then too, I have learned to feel a deeper sense of appreciation for the composers who have given us our music. The stories of their lives reflect the beauty and sincerity of their compositions and their tireless work and effort make us appreciate the fruits of their labor even more.

Through the study of Music Appreciation” I have come to recognize some of the possibilities of music and what it can do to make people happy and contented–better able to enjoy the real fullness of life.”

The grade on this piece was A, with Miss Bond’s comment handwritten on the bottom of the page: “Fine! I copied this and intend to keep it. You have been an inspiration in the class and this little essay makes me very happy.”

In addition to the regular required physical education course, I took boxing and wrestling and tumbling. In boxing I was glad to learn rope-jumping. I excelled defensively in wrestling, being difficult for opponents to pin.

Samuel Kistler headed the physical education department. As an alumnus of Salem College, he had earned a reputation as a celebrated athlete in football, basketball and baseball. His teaching skills and dedication were of a high order.

The tumbling class was most enjoyable for me. We developed a team of tumblers who performed in a number of high schools in the area. Our routine included front and back flips, dives and a number of other tumbling maneuvers.

The tennis team was coached by Samuel Kistler, too. I made the team for only a few matches. One I played in against West Virginia Wesleyan on their courts is memorable. I did not win a point in the first game. From then on in the match I won the next eleven games–several of them going to deuce over and over. My opponent conceded the match to me when it began to rain. It is interesting to note that in the period up to college graduation I played endless hours of tennis. Since college I have seldom had a racket in my hand.

I was close to Salem College sports and athletes from childhood through college. Several outstanding athletes boarded at our home and ate Mammals cooking during their college careers. A few of them I remember were: Matthew Bowers, “Peely” Hogue, Doy Neville and Irving Menzel. I’m sure there aren’t many Salem College fans who witnessed more athletic contests than I in the years from 1925 to 1935.

In October 1932, early in my sophomore year, I was elected head cheerleader for Salem College. Sandford Randolph, my cousin, nominated me for the position and after “trying out” for the assembled student body I was surprised and elated to be elected. The Salem College “S”, with a megaphone on it is a treasured memento from many thrilling experiences of yesteryear. How exciting the pep rallies were, with bonfires and snake dances, on the nights before home football games. The Salem College songs still ring in my mind.

Now let me interject some memories of the summer work project that covered my tuition for the four years of college. Okey Davis was head custodian at the college, in charge of all janitorial and maintenance work. I consider it a real privilege to have worked for four summers under his direction. He became my friend as well as boss. He had a hearing problem and I remember him telling me, “One advantage of being deaf is that you can’t hear a mosquito buzzing before he bites you”. We worked on many assignments in the course of a summer: lawn mowing, window washing, floor maintenance, painting and varnishing and miscellaneous other projects. The most physically exhausting work I remember was mixing mortar at ground level and carrying it in buckets to plasterers on the third floor of Huffman Hall.

One summer experience is unforgettable. Nelson Tully and I, with girl friends, attended the summer school picnic on a river near Clarksburg. When we went to our car–after most of the picnickers were gone–we found a girl waiting for her boyfriend in a car. Concerned, we checked in the bathhouse and found his clothes. Quickly getting into our bathing suits, Nelson and I went into the river to search for the man. I carried a good sized rock so I could walk on the bottom of the river between coming up for breaths. It was a shock to step on the body as it drifted along on the bottom of the river. Calling for help, we lifted the body into a boat and brought it to shore. A rescue squad tried resuscitation but it was futile. The summer student’s name was Bailey. I had played tennis with him but didn’t know him well. The memory lingers.

The experience of falling from a window of the physics lab on the top floor of Huffman Hall is still vivid. Roommate Reece Burns and I were washing the windows at the end of a work day. I was standing on the window sill washing the outside of the pane, holding on with one hand on the top of the window. Reece finished the inside of the window and pushed it up briskly, knocking my hand from its grip and causing me to fall backward. I went into a crouching position and landed on my feet on water-soaked ground. I was stunned by the impact and could not see for a brief time. The first sound I heard was Reece flying down the stairs to my side. lost two days work from the soreness of my ankles, knees and hips but did not check with a Doctor. The distance of the fall was about thirty feet.

Twice during the summers I went on B. & 0. railroad weekend excursion trips to Washington, D.C. We got on the train on the night after the Sabbath; arrived in Washington in the morning; walked around the capitol area all day Sunday; came back on the train Sunday night and arrived home–very tired–Monday morning. On one trip I was with Bob Wise. Nelson Tully was on the other with me. I do not think it the ideal way to tour Washington.

It was certainly not unnatural that I should have “an affair of the heart” during college days. Helen McCullough was a classmate from Hole Hill, West Virginia. (The town has now taken the name, “Mountain”–proving that a mole hill can be changed to a mountain.) Helen’s brothers, Tom and Harold, were in college with her. I have forgotten how our friendship started but it grew into a serious relationship over a two year period. We studied together, were a formidable bridge team and enjoyed shooting bows together. Helen transferred to West Virginia University for her senior year and we parted company. I have speculated that her family decided I was not the man she should choose.

It could be said of my life during college that I did not let academics interfere with extra curricular activities. When I tried out for the Men’s Glee Club I made it as the first second tenor. Professor Clark Siedhoff was our director and we were proud to represent Salem College by performing concerts in a number of West Virginia communities. Wearing a tuxedo made me feel sophisticated and debonair. One of our favorite numbers, “Give Me Some Men Who Are Stout Hearted Men” still resounds in my memory. “Creation Hymn” was a real test of our musical competence.

I was fortunate to be chosen by the college as a delegate to a Rural Life Conference in Washington, D.C. On the bus trip to Washington I met Margaret Herndon. She was a harpist and director of music for the Clarksburg Presbyterian Church. A friendship between us blossomed as we walked and talked far into the night on the streets of Washington. The year was 1933 or 1934. We would not walk at night in Washington in 1994. During the conference I rode in an elevator with Secretary of Agriculture, Henry Wallace. Later he became Vice President with President Roosevelt.

Margaret and I continued to see each other after the conference. She was generous in agreeing to give harp recitals I arranged at the college and at our Salem church. The church recital was a benefit for the choir robe fund. Mrs. George Trainer’s large contribution made purchase of choir robes possible. No doubt Margaret was several years older than I. Our rather brief relationship was a happy one. I have wondered what has happened in Margaret’s life.

The spiritual life of Salem College students was not neglected. Daily chapel was mandatory and, for the most part, students appreciated the Christian emphasis. Area ministers and educators brought chapel messages. Our singing was heartwarming. Number 17 in the song book, “In My Heart There Rings A Melody” was a favorite. My theme hymn in that period was, “I Would Be True”. For some reason, that hymn doesn’t appear in current hymnals.

President S. Orestes Bond often led the chapel services. He was a dedicated Christian gentleman who successfully guided Salem College for many years. The students of those years remember that his prayers were eloquent and moving but sometimes overly long. The life of President Bond blessed us all.

YMCA and YWCA organizations were active on campus. It was inspiring to attend Christian Student Conferences on other college campuses. One such experience at Bethany College–founded by Alexander Campbell of the Church of Christ–made a deep impression on me.

The fellowship of our Seventh Day Baptist college youth was wonderful. We often gathered for parties and a number of us sang in the church choir. Dean Van Horn taught our college Sabbath School class. We met in the back pews of the church. I recall how Dean Van Horn stood with one foot up on the pew in front of us, ingling the change in his pocket as he spoke and taught. His teaching was always forward looking and positive. We respected and loved him.

The Christian influence of Pastor George B. Shaw and members of the congregation of the Salem Church was greater and richer than we knew then. And the friendships made in those college days will never be forgotten.

Matthew Bowers, Fisher Davis, Claude Nagel and Reece Burns each had a turn as my roommate during our college years. Matt distinguished himself in football and basketball. While he roomed with me I had a nightmare one night, dreaming that Matt was falling out a hotel window. In a desperate effort to save him, I grabbed him around the neck with both hands. Waking up rudely, he hit me a sharp blow on the chin with his fist. My nightmare ended abruptly.

Fisher Davis, “Eph”, was from Bridgeton, New Jersey–the son of Elizabeth Fisher Davis who wrote the Seventh Day Baptist Young People’s Song. “Eph” was very tall and a good tennis player. He graduated in the class of ’32.

Claude Nagel was also a New Jersey product, from Plainfield. His father was a successful New York artist. Claude was a sophomore in 1935 and wrote in my Dirigo, “Elmo- I can’t adequately express my appreciation for my stay in the Randolph cottage on the hill. I leave here as though I was leaving home.”

Reece Burns roomed with me for our last two college years. Vie became more brothers than roommates. He was sincerely Christian, serving at times as a Methodist Protestant minister. Because Reece’s parents were dead, he came to think of my mother as his, too. Mamma accepted that role graciously. She sewed pajamas for both of us out of feed sacks. She kept a length of rope that she whipped us with to get us out of bed mornings. It was a contest to see who could pull the covers off of the other when Mamma was swinging the rope.

Reece and I worked together at the college one summer doing maintenance and janitorial assignments. His influence on my life–especially when I was considering entering the ministry–was of great import. After college Reece became a minister in the United Methodist Church and was elevated to the position of District Superintendent in southern West Virginia. (I was honored to have him serve as “Groom’s Man” at my wedding.)

My room in our little house during college years was a happy haven for me. I rigged a chinning bar that hung from the ceiling. On the walls of the room I pasted favorite poems and quotations. “The House By the Side of the Road” was one of the poems and I believe “Invictus” was another. Psychologist Coe was popular in that period. A quote from him on my wall amuses me now: “Every day in every way, I’m getting better and better.”

A poem I wrote is illustrative of my darker moods of college days:
Sweep down on me, oh wind!
Why waste thy roaring on the darkened sky
Or on some tempest-twisted tree
From whose lean boughs the leaves were lately torn?
Sound not thy wrath against the silent hills
For naught but echoes will avail thee thus.
But rather, seek thy vengeance to allay
With merciless and unrelenting blasts
Designed to buffet and to purge
My soul, ill-steeped in worldliness.

Reflecting now, I understand that I often felt insecure and inadequate as I struggled through the stresses of college life. However, they were good years.

The experience I record now happened at the beginning of college spring recess in April, 1934. I began hitch-hiking from Salem to Sutton–about a one hundred mile trip–planning to spend the vacation week with Dad on the farm. At four o’clock in the afternoon I was still thirty-two miles from Sutton and wasn’t catching any rides so I began walking. Is it ironic that the name of the town where I started the trek was Walkersville?

During the day the temperature was warm and springlike. With sunset it cooled off rapidly. I wasn’t dressed for cool weather and I was carrying a small suitcase. That stretch of road was through hill country and was sparsely populated. I was not carrying a flashlight. Traffic was very thin.

I walked a few miles until after dark and decided to make a bed in a field beside the road and try to get some sleep. Cushioning the ground with a layer of broomsage (a West Virginia grass) I tried sleeping without success. The only option seemed to be to walk. So I walked all night long. Infrequently a car would approach me and pass, dousing my hopes. As I passed one home near the road I thought of stopping but a dog barked viciously and I kept walking.

Toward morning I came upon the site of a crosstie fire set by railroad workmen the day before. There were still hot coals and the ground was warm. It was restful to lie down for a while. I may even have fallen asleep.

I believe I walked up a final steep hill to brother Brady and Mary’s home at seven or eight o’clock in the morning. A hot tub bath was refreshing and sleep was welcome. When I awoke my knees were so stiff it was difficult to walk for some time. The miles I have covered walking in my life are many but at no other time have I totaled thirty-two miles on a cold spring night carrying a suitcase.

Being elected president of the college junior class in 1933-35 was thrilling for me. The other class officers that year were: Vice president Milton Van Horn, secretary- Virginia Thompson, treasurer- Abby Brent. I must have had a successful year because the class elected me president again for our senior year–1934-35. Arthur Bland was vice president, Leah Virginia Davis was secretary and Fred Early was treasurer. It was another good year. Our class gift to Salem college, for which we raised a sizable amount of money, was improving the electrical system in the administration building.

Following college tradition, our senior class presented a class play near the end of our college days. Miss Nannie Lowe directed THE YOUNGEST for us. I played “the youngest”. Milton Van Horn was my elder brother in the play and Wilma Keys was the female lead. It was fun doing the play and it was well received. (In earlier college years, Shakespearean plays were the tradition.)

There were two “happenings” for me during my senior year that impacted strongly on my life and future. At our Seventh Day Baptist General Conference in Salem in August, 1934 I met Helen Mae Button. Her home was on a farm near Friendship, New York and she was preparing for her freshman year at Alfred University. After our brief introduction in Salem we carried on correspondence through the school year that was heart-warming and exciting for me. (It’s odd that I remember she dotted her i’s with little circles.)

Blossoming romantic interest in Helen Mae led me to borrow Ashby and Ruth’s Plymouth car to drive to New York State for Christmas vacation, 1934. Betty and Ed Bartley and Ruth Sarah Davis made the trip with me and I was Betty and Ed’s guest in Bolivar, New York. We attended Christmas Eve Midnight mass in a Catholic church in Portville, my first experience in a Catholic III church. I visited my aunt Cleo–Dad’s sister–in Olean.

The overnight visit to Helen Mae’s home completely captivated me. If I was falling in love with Helen Mae, I was immediately charmed by her parents and her home. I would call her father, Lon Button, an entrepreneur farmer. He had trout ponds and in the winter trapped foxes. Strawberries were a successful crop in the summer. Amelia, Helen Mae’s Mother, was a quiet, white haired lady who was an immaculate housekeeper and an altogether charming person. They were sincere, committed Christians. Mr. Button was a Deacon in the Nile Seventh Day Baptist Church. I was awed by my visit with the Buttons.

I made a pair of moccasins for Helen Mae as her Christmas present. Here are the verses I placed in the moccasins:

These moccasins I fashioned with a prayer
That they might lead you in your eager quest
For happiness unbounded, wild and free.

O moccasins, like Indian maids did wear,
Thy steps must not stray, thoughtless, like the rest
For in thy trust I leave one dear to me.

Suffice it to say that Helen Mae and I corresponded frequently through the rest of my year in college. It may have been a case where “Absence makes the heart grow fonder”.

The second “happening” that occurred during my senior year in Salem college gave a new direction for my life that has marked all my days since. Rev. A.J.C. Bond had accepted the deanship of the School of Theology in Alfred University and was visiting Salem College to recruit students studying for the ministry. He visited with me on campus, between the Administration building and Huffman Hall, saying that his daughter, Wilma, had suggested I might be a candidate for the ministry. He urged me to consider the ministry as my life “Calling” and join his first class at the School of Theology.

This invitation was something of a “bombshell” of an idea for me. I had pursued my college course with the assumption that high school teaching would be my life work. Working toward that end I acquired the necessary education credits including practice teaching for six weeks in Salem High School. It was interesting to get the reaction of other people on my entering the ministry. An interview with Rev. Herbert Van Horn, Milton and Elston’s father, was very encouraging and helpful for me.

After serious consideration and soul-searching, I made the decision to study for a Bachelor of Divinity degree–a three year course–at the Alfred University School of Theology. At this point in time I was not certain of a “Calling” to the ministry and so made my decision on an exploratory basis.

Graduating from Salem College with the class of 1935 was the ultimate in achievement an excitement at that point in my life. I was the first member of our family to earn a college degree. (Brother Ashby graduated the next year.)

Dr. William L. Stidger, noted radio preacher, was our Baccalaureate speaker. His sermon title was: TITANS OF THIS TUMULT. He highlighted the current roles of Hitler, Stalin and Mussolini in 1935. Then he made the point that Dr. Albert Sweitzer, the Japanese Christian, Kagawa, and Mohandas Gandhi were the real Titans of This Tumult. His prophetic message has stood the test of time.

As president of the graduating class, it was my privilege to be at the head of the receiving line for President Bond’s reception following the commencement exercises. Several years previous to this Mrs. Bond had employed me to keep the punchbowl filled during the reception for the graduates. I carried the punch from the basement of the president’s home up to the reception table. I must be the only person who ever served in both roles.

My family members–including cousins, aunts, etc.–presented me with a gift of money. I had to decide whether to use the gift for buying a class ring or a new suit. Reluctantly, I chose the new suit–I needed it more.

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