July 24, 2009

Second Mile People I Know







GRANDMA RITA’S RAMBLINGS

Second Mile People

“JENNIE”

To My Grandkids With Love,

Jennie was my Mother-in-Love (your Great Grandmother). The name given her at birth on December 19, 1902 was Jantina Terhark. She was the youngest of thirteen children. Her parents were born in the area of Beerta, Holland. Four of the brothers came to America in the late 1800‘s. They were Ben, Ralph, Henry, and Frank. Jennie’s father, Roelf (Ralph), was one of them. They were all married and had families. They settled in the area of Northwest Iowa and Southern Minnesota where almost everyone spoke Dutch and belonged to some brand of the Dutch Reformed Church.

When Jennie was young she spent much of her childhood helping take care of children-nieces and nephews of family members. The “Terhark Geneology” Book that I have registers very large families. Sister Fanny and husband, John Mulder outdid them all. They had 16! In fact, Jennie was helping one of her sisters that had a new baby up in Park Rapids, MN when she met her soul-mate and love of her life.

At the age of 18 Jennie became the bride of Howard Manlove and of course she then became Jennie Manlove. He had a job at the Post Office. They met at a Church Meeting. After one year they decided on marriage. If you read between the lines and use your imagination as I have been doing, the marriage might not have been that simple. I know that I am getting off on speculation rather than known facts.

I would imagine this caused a bit of a stir back home in Little Rock as Howard’s ethnicity did not match Jennie’s nor did his faith! Howard was of English stock whose ancestors left England during the great persecution of the Quakers in about 1668. These Manloves landed in the Cheasepeake Bay area. They were as much English as the Terharks were Dutch!

I’m sure Mom and Dad Terhark spent some sleepless nights over their youngest child! Howard had only recently become a Christian in the Baptist Church! Besides Howard not speaking Dutch and not being of the Reformed Church Doctrine, they were quite young and knew nothing of each others background! Like Tevia in “Fiddler on the Roof” tradition had deep roots in this family!

Did Howard ask Jennie’s father for his blessing on their marriage? I don’t know. Probably. Later, Jennie would chuckle at the times that Howard would go to family reunions and everyone but him was speaking Dutch! Being quite the conversationalist, it made him pretty disgusted at their insensitivity to his situation!

When I was browsing through the above mentioned geneology I found a picture of the whole Ralph Terhark family-all eleven of them ( two had died when young) standing by their spouses. I found Howard and Jennie Manlove right in the middle of this large group of relatives, all Dutch names. The name “Manlove” didn’t quite fit. Jennie definitely married “outside the fold”. I think that took courage!

Their first child, was your Grandpa Lynn. He was born in Park Rapids on July 2, 1922
The other five siblings came during their years in Hibbing, MN. This was an iron ore mining town in Northern MN After firstborn, Lindley D, there were twins, Don and Donna, then Gerald, Juanita and Marilyn.

Howard worked in the mines and went to school nights to get his Civil Engineering Degree. This resulted in a job change and eventually a move to St. Paul MN There was always a struggle to keep food on the table for their six kids and guests. Jennie, now called Mom, had the ability to serve very tasty meals with little money. Even so, guests were always welcomed to their table as Mom was gifted with hospitality.

On Sunday, students attending Simpson Memorial Church who were from the St. Paul Bible School were often recipients of Mom’s cooking and the love of the family. It seemed that to Mom it was a delightful challenge to be able to stretch the dinner for one more person. This was a special treat that St Paul Bible School Students never forgot.




Juanita’s (child # 5)-Childhood Memories of her Mom.

“My first recollection of my Mom is sitting quietly with my doll while she had her devotions after the big kids went to school. She would sit over the steel grated opening that was over the coal furnace in the basement. It was the warmest place in the house. I can remember her doing that each morning before she started her work.

Monday was washday, Tuesday, ironing. She would have a great big clothesbasket with sprinkled clothes and spent most of the day ironing. I was so glad when I got big enough to do the handkerchiefs and pillow cases.

Another thing I remember most about Mom was the absence of yelling at us. I’m sure there were times she raised her voice, but I remember most that she was always whistling around the house and was pretty calm even when we had so much company.

Lots of the kids friends came to the house where they always felt at home and on Sundays of course we usually had some students from St Paul Bible School. Dad always peeled the potatoes the night before and helped with the younger kids Saturday night baths.

Speaking of Mom never getting mad brings to mind the one time I remember her getting really ticked at me. She heard me (the shy one) calling my best friend Barbara, a “big poop”! She rushed out of the house and brought me inside and washed out my mouth with soap! I think it was Ivory-not so bad.

I remember one day seeing my Mom and Dad hug and cry because they had to punish my brothers because our renter (a single man) had tattled on them and they had to punish them to save face although they felt it wasn’t justified.”

For the most part life was at it’s best. Mom loved providing loving care for the family even though many times that meant double duty as Dad Manlove often had to be away because of job responsibilities. And even though the family “lived on a shoestring”, it was seemingly a happy and peaceful time in their lives.

This all changed abruptly on December 7, 1941. World War II was as much a shock to the Manloves as it was to most in our nation. There would be testing times ahead. Mom’s young boys were just the right age to serve their country. Lynn went in to the Navy, Don went in to the Army. Jerry also went in to the Navy. Later Karl Alteneder (Navy) became a part of the family as he and Donna were married.

And because Dad had always felt bad that he wasn't accepted in the military in the First World War, he so wanted to do what he could for his country that he enlisted in the Minnesota National Guard!

These were tense times for Moms of servicemen. As most mothers did, Mom prayed that she would never have to hang a Gold Star sign in the window of the Manlove home. That would indicate that someone in that home had been “Killed in Action”!

Mom prayed as she never had before. She met with a group of ladies that met regularly to pray for their sons and other loved ones in Service. Sometimes weeks and months would go by without hearing from anyone. It was so different then. There were no phones, no e mails, no Skype. You waited and prayed for weeks and sometimes months for a letter saying that all was well. These were four years when ones faith was tested as never before.

Then that day finally did come in 1945 when all four of these young men returned within a short time of each other. They left as young “boys” and returned as quite mature young men. Each was anxious to get on with their lives! Can you imagine the joy of that household and celebration of God’s faithfulness when the last one walked in the door? That old house must have rocked!

Things went along pretty smooth for a while. There were marriages in the family and the Baby Boomers were coming right and left. Grandma Manlove was now having the time of her life. By the way, it wasn’t until years later that they were called “Baby Boomers”.

However this joyous time was soon to take on a different hue.

It was in the prime of life that Mom’s sweetheart of many years, Dad Manlove was found dead in his sleep at a hotel room close to where he was working. The year was1952. That totally changed Mom’s lifestyle. She had always been the homemaker and caregiver to her family and now she had to get out and find her first “real” job. Marilyn was still in High School, living at home.

Here is what Juanita recalls about this time in her Mom’s life. “After Dad died and left Mom a widow at age 49, I remember how faithful the Lord was to provide her with a job she loved. She was Salad Cook at Midway Hospital and got an apartment near the church, (she didn’t drive then). I’m sure these were very difficult and lonely days for her. I never heard her feel sorry for herself but just relied on her Lord.”

Grandpa Lynn and I were living in Texas at that time so being so far away we didn’t know much of what she was experiencing. Although I had known Mom since before we were married in 1949, yet it wasn’t until later that I spent more time with her and I realized what a “Second Mile Person” this lady was. She seemed to be strong in weathering the storms of life that came her way.

It was about four years later when Mom’s life was to take another turn. This was a happy turn. She had known Abe Bronner for quite a few years because of their activity in Gideons International, a worldwide organization for business men and women who distributed Bibles in Hotels, Schools, prisons and other places. Dad Manlove was President of the Minnesota Chapter of Gideons and Mom was Women’s Auxiliary President for a time.

Abe, a widower wrote Mom a letter from Hawaii and asked if he could visit her when he returned. He wanted to take her out to go with him to the State Fair!

This ultimately led to a wonderful marriage (in 1955) until his death (in 1970).

So now what was next? The days following are when I got to know Mom best.

Having outlived two husbands Mom spent much of her time in later years with her “children” and “step-children” and grandchildren. We always looked forward to her coming to Arizona. She would spend a few months in the winter with us.

At that time we were very busy, Our kids were teenagers, your Grandpa Lynn was totally involved in starting a new church and we were doing a lot of entertaining. There were church people, college students, and at times visitors from the North (Snow Birds) who experienced meals, overnights or stayed with us for a period of time.

And Mom fit right in to the situation! She loved the Hub-bub, it seemed. Most of all she could practice her gifts of helps and hospitality. She just worked right alongside of me. You might say we were a team! At the mention of entertaining twenty guests for a Sunday Dinner, her juices started flowing. What to serve? "I can fix this or that-- sticky buns, pies, cookies, or whatever might be appropriate. Let me help buy a roast". When everyone arrived she was right with me doing whatever needed to be done. I would just say the word and it was done. She was truly a life saver for me during those busy years.

It was her service to the Lord and for the Lord. She wasn’t going to be put on the shelf after all. There were times when I was so tired I thought I would drop but watching her and her energy would energize me. I shall always cherish those days.


There were a few tense times too. Long before we were in Arizona I remember hanging some sheets on the line and she tried to tell me there was a better way! She hit the streak of stubbornness that was in me and I couldn’t see but what my way was just as good as hers!

When I went back to teaching in Tempe,AZ I was quite late in getting home one evening. I had stopped to do some major shopping. She and your Grandpa Lynn were both waiting for me letting me know they weren‘t very happy with me. They didn’t mind my being late but were ticked that I hadn’t called to let them know! I had to eat humble pie and admit that I was in the wrong!

And then when she was 70 she wanted to learn to drive. Since none of us felt up to the task we hired a teacher. I so respected her for wanting to do this but we all were worried. It turned out to be a good thing though when she later lived in Iowa. She was able to go down country roads to visit relatives or friends. And she could go for groceries for herself.


A few Sundays ago one of our pastors talked about “Second Mile People”. His text was in Matthew 5, “If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two”. I later started to think about "Second Mile People” that have influenced my life. Not very many I know that are famous or outstanding as some might think, but people who willingly and gladly went the second mile even when it wasn’t understood or appreciated . Going the first mile is doing something that you are asked to do or told to do, going the second mile is perhaps doing an unpleasant task and going beyond because it was a sacrifice of love.

I could name a few that fall in that category but one stands out to me and that was my Mother-in -Love, Jennie Terhark, Manlove, Bronner!
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P.S I want to thank Jerry and Juanita for their help. If I didn't get some of the facts right, please let me know as I can always edit it. Some time ago Jerry wrote an article and included a quote from Harvey Cox's book called, "Journey of faith."
I liked it so much that I want to share it with you as it seems appropriate to this writing.

"No one's faith journey begins at birth. It starts back eons with the mothers and fathers of our great grand-mothers and great grand-fathers, and before. Our faith seeps into our corpuscles carried on the songs we hear before we know what the words mean. It enters us with voiceless grimaces, smiles, and distant looks, whispered secrets, tics, smells, stories, all incorporated into our tissues before we are aware of it. It comes to us bound up with caste, and class, with color and gender, with language and cruisine. We all meet ourselves, as Kirkegaard once put it, 'on a ship already launched. a journey already underway".


MOM and her kids in 1982.Front Row: Juanita, Marilyn, Mom, Donna. Back Row: Don, Lindley (Lynn), Gerald (Jerry)

May 30, 2009

NEBRASKA NOSTALGIA

GRANDMA RITA’S RAMBLINGS



June, 2009

To my Grandkids with Love


Kathy Murphy, my niece wrote a response when I announced that I would be attending a party for a lady, a distant cousin of mine, celebrating 100 years of life. It was a valid question! She asked, What does one do at a 100th Birthday Party? That is a good question that I will attempt to answer in the next page or so.

Before I tell you all about it I want to explain to you who the honored guest was. Her name is Leona Paustien and she lives in Wauneta, Nebraska, a small prairie town in southwest Nebraska. She has a nice home there, mows her sizeable lawn, keeps her Buick in good shape, (washing and cleaning it) and drives it in the area when the occasion arises that she needs to. Otherwise, if it’s a trip downtown and a good day she might walk!

Leona has very firm convictions and believes in speaking up and expressing them when it seems necessary to do so. Leona writes with beautiful handwriting, her letters are long and newsy. She always gives thanks to the Lord for all her blessings. She has outlived three husbands!

It was in one of those letters that I received from her that she mentioned that on May 4,2009 she would reach her 100th Birthday! This was a surprise to me and I soon got on the phone to sister Ila in California. After discussing the letter we agreed that this was a big event and it would sure be fun to be a part of it.

Ila is always ready to go back to our home town. In fact she still takes the “Wauneta Breeze” just to keep up on people and what they are doing. She especially enjoys the "Forty Years Ago" column.


Anyway, she said she was quite sure that brother Ed in Denver area would like to go. Well, from there things developed fast as she found some fabulous airline tickets to Denver that we just “couldn’t pass up”. Ed said he would drive his car to Wauneta so things just seemed to make sense that we should make this trip to our home town where we grew up, and help Leona celebrate her birthday. We found out that her daughter Joan, was planning a big party at the Senior Center in Wauneta and that everyone that knew Leona was invited. (That would be the whole town of 8 or 900.)


We arrived on Saturday. It was 2 p.m.-good timing! And here is where plans took an unexpected turn. We were told that Leona had fallen just two days before the party and broke her hip, injured her shoulder and was in the hospital! They said they decided to go ahead with the party as everything had been purchased and so many had been invited.

Joan’s daughter is a professional Party Planner. Thanks to her expertise the room was so beautiful-I can’t describe it. If I did try it just wouldn’t do it justice. Best of all there were hundreds of pictures we could look through. Each one told stories of the past. Since we were distantly related we were able to identify many. It seems that our Grandma,- Maude Morrison Nesmith, was a sister to Carrie Morrison Buffington, Leona‘s mom. If I have it figured right that made Leona our mom,Nellie Miller’s cousin and she would be our second cousin, right?! Don’t waste a lot of time trying to figure that one out!J


The most interesting album was one that had several pictures of my brother Dale, that died when he was eight months old. Leona says that she helped my mom at the time of his death. He died with some kind of stomach disorder which I’m sure would not have been fatal in our day.


Even though we didn’t see Leona that day we did see many old friends, neighbors of my Grandma Miller, and people from our high school classes. Lois, Vara, Ed, Ila and myself all went to high school there. It was the closest high school from where we lived, nine miles south. That night we were invited to the delightful meal that only Nebraska cooks can come up with.

However, we all had to admit that we were disappointed that we hadn’t seen the honored birthday girl that we came to see! Leona had been taken to the North Platte hospital, some 100 miles away where the doctors could more adequately care for her. As we drove back to the Bed and Breakfast where we were to stay, (no motels in Wauneta) we decided that even though it was a long way we were going to see Leona before we left. It was a good decision! Early the next morning we were on our way.


We didn’t know whether Leona would be able to see us or talk to us but when we went
in to her room, our concerns vanished. This spunky lady was so wide awake in her hospital bed and so alert and happy to see us. For over an hour we talked, took pictures, remembered old times and enjoyed her usual sense of humor cracking jokes about her age and her fall etc. What a special time we had together. In fact, for us it was probably more quality time spent with her than if we had seen her at the party. The Picture: Ed, Ila, Leona, and Rita

I looked up the word nostalgia in the dictionary to be sure I was spelling it right and found it interesting that the basic meaning is from a Greek word that means “return home”. Thus the reason for the title of this story. There was one more thing I wanted so to do. It was to drive out on the south divide where our farm was, go past the Mt. Zion Church and visit the old cemetery called “Mt Zion Cemetery”. If we timed it right on Monday we could do all this and still arrive back at the Denver Airport by 6 p.m.


As you view the pictures you can see the deterioration. This was the church where I grew up, learned the stories about Jesus, went to Sunday School and Vacation Bible School, sang in the choir, observed people who truly loved the Lord and some who didn’t. But they were good hard working farmers who were our friends and neighbors. The building itself is only a shell--been vandalized, but some of the people I remember were a godly influence in my life and my siblings, and in many ways their beliefs and good moral values still live in me. I’m so grateful for this kind of exposure to life that I had growing up!

The same could be said of the small cemetery where our brother Dale was buried. We found it after quite a search. A small marker barely seen for the tall grass. It was alongside names of many whose gravestones revealed people we had known in the past. I was glad to havfe Ed and Ila with me to help me remember. It is always a sobering experience, but one that we all should have -to remember the brevity of life and that only eternal things are important when it comes right down to it.

Well, this is a rather sobering note to end up on but maybe that’s OK! I think I’d like to dedicate this blog to the memory of my brother Dale Miller, who passed away at 8 months. I never saw him but found myself returning home grieving that I had never had that chance. Another reason to look forward to our heavenly hope!
The picture: Lois, Dale, and Vara.




Much love to all,
Grandma Rita

May 7, 2009

AFRICAN ADVENTURES












GRANDMA RITA’S
RAMBLINGS

April, 2009


To My Grandkids With Love


This is one of those trips that I would not in my wildest imaginations have ever thought I’d do. It all started when Juanita, your Grandpa Lynn’s Iowa sister called me. She was making plans to go to Dakar, Senegal, Africa with her two daughters, Sharman and Heidi. Would I consider going along? From Atlanta, GA we could get a plane non-stop to Dakar, an overnight flight.

Since Ramona and Jim were there working with a missions organization called World Venture and Juanita’s son and family, Bruce and Julie Adamson were living only a few miles from them doing missionary work under another missions board,it seemed like a perfect opportunity to see them and get to know another part of the world. Reservations were made early for March 20th.

Yes, March 20th 2009 came and it became one of those days that I will not forget for a long time. I was of course excited and a bit fearful of the unknown. It all started with a phone call at 3 a.m. It was a canned phone call to tell me this was the day I was to travel. It is hard to hear messages on the phone and I had to play it several times before I knew what they were saying. I thought they might be telling me of a time change. It wasn’t. Oh well, I needed to be up by 4 a.m. anyway to get to the airport in time.

I won’t go in to all the little (or big?) things that happened that just kept me wondering if I would make it to my destination such as finding a big hole in one of my suitcases, losing my cell phone only to find it later in the bottom of my bag, and some other things.

Juanita (IA), Sharman (CA), and Heidi (NE) and myself planned to meet at Atlanta,GA Airport That went OK and we got on the plane ready to roll when we heard otherwise. We had to deplane as there was a mechanical problem. After a three hour delay in Atlanta we left at 7 p.m. All of our families were at the Dakar Airport at 8 a.m. the next day to meet us.





WORLD VENTURE MISSIONARIES RETREAT:
As soon as we arrived in Dakar (8 a.m. Senegal time) Jim, Ramona and I left by car for a Missionary Retreat by the ocean that is planned once a year for all World Venture missionaries in the country of Senegal. It was a good chance for me to learn about the work there and get to know Jim and Ramona’s co-workers. This week-end is designed to be a restful time, Time was spent on the beach, kayaking, swimming, family times, coffee times to chat with each other.



FAMILY TIME: The next couple of days were spent at another resort and it was time to spend time with family. This was a really nice place with plenty of beach and nice facilities. Since the two families hadn’t seen each other, some for years, we would just be enjoying getting connected.

By family I mean Bruce and Julie and their three, Taylor, Sam, and Ellie. Bruce is Juanita’s son and brother to Sharman and Heidi. We had a great time getting acquainted again. We ate one meal together each day.

Two one day trips were planned for all nine of us.

The first day we left early to go to a Game park--a refuge for African animals.


BANDIA GAME PARK:
Our tour bus was a pickup truck with two planks going lengthwise in its bed. There were bars above to hang on to to keep from falling out! It was a bit hard to climb in to. I was thankful for long legs and a push from behind!

The driver just drove around in this big reserve finding the animals. Our tour guide spoke French so Bruce translated information into English. It was great. The next thing to being on a safari, I think!

The only elephant we saw was the trunk of a Baobob tree that looked like an elephant. There is a legend about the Baobob tree.- in the creation God wasn’t pleased with the tree he made and he pulled it up, turned it upside down and replanted it. The Baobob trees are very numerous and they aren’t very pretty-they do look like the roots are sticking up. The inside of the trunk is hollow and they produce what they called “Monkey Bread” It is supposed to be nutritious.








THE CAMEL RIDE:
The second day we were together we left for the Sahara Desert which was about a four hour drive north. There is a little village right on the edge of where we were going to ride camels. There we parked our cars. Again we mounted our tour bus (pick-up) and were driven to our “motel” for the night (large tents).


Because the sand is soft and fine we sunk in about three inches every time we took a step. One of the pics you will see Juanita coming out of the “restroom” made of leaves. She and I were in one tent together. It was cold and windy. We slept on mats. Not really! I didn’t get much sleep that night.


But I’m getting ahead of the story. Toward evening we all got on camels with the help of some workers. There were two or three to a camel. I was worried that I might fall off for it isn’t very smooth riding and you are up there pretty high. Anyway, I am now able to say that I have ridden a camel!


The next morning we left via pick-up and went back to the little village for our cars. After escaping many men, women and children trying to sell us their wares, we left for “home”.

It took a while for us to recup from that trip! A couple of days later both families went by ferry to an island close to Dakar. It is called Goree Island or slave island. The history of that island is very sad. People would be forced from many villages in Africa by the French traders and there they would be housed in these buildings until the slave ships arrived.

Upon arrival of the ships they would be put in chains, (ankles and wrists), and would file out through the “Door of no Return” to be sold in the States or in other countries.

It is now a tourist area-you can go through the various buildings with tour guides. Also many little three sided shops sell many trickets, clothing, etc. When the natives see that we are a bunch of Americans they swarm over you like vultures trying to sell us something. This is the main way they earn their bread and butter.


THE TALIBI BOYS:
Friday is Ramona’s day to help at the Center for the Talibi boys, managed by a World Venture missionary.

The word Talibi means “Disciple”. There are estimated to be 100,000 of them on the streets of Dakar. Parents of these boys who live in the villages will give up their boys to the Muslim leaders to win favor with Allah. They are promised an education and care of them. But most of the times these boys are put out on the streets of Dakar to beg for their food. The boys think it is OK because they are sacrificing for Allah.

If they do not bring anything home at night to give to the Muslim leader, they will be punished. Eventually, they become disillusioned. They want to go back home but again will be told that would not please Allah.

When World Venture opened the Center six months ago the boys realized this was a haven where there was loving care. They have ministered to around eighty of them. The day I was there we counted around fifty. Some things they could enjoy was a shower and clean clothes twice a week, a cup of hot milk and a piece of bread with nutritional and tasty filling. They can play with blocks and toys, color in coloring books, watch a Christian film, listen to a Bible Story, play in the half basketball court and just relax. They spend a few hours there in the morning and then off they go for a day of begging on the street with their little buckets. These boys range in age from 5 to 14 years of age.


After their day they return to the Muslim leader to show the results of their day and sleep on the ground in a shack-like facility. Our hearts were so touched for these precious boys. What of their present and future? Only God knows.


DAKAR CHRISTIAN ACADEMY
The school was on Spring Break most of the time I was there. But the last day I was able to visit and meet some of the staff. I also met the Fifth Grade Students that Jim teaches. There are 15 students from seven different countries. Most are Missionary Kids. Parents are originally from Korea, Brazil, and USA to name a few.


THE INTERNATIONAL ENGLISH SPEAKING CHURCH
This was the grand finale of my trip!! This was mostly Black believers from various English speaking countries in Africa. The worship time was a little bit of heaven on earth, the choir and the pastor’s message on Palm Sunday were very soul stirring and I felt such a sweet time of being truly in God’s presence. It’s hard to describe and no pictures would give you the sense of the time spent in this humble little gathering.

I want to thank Jim and Ramona for making this such a special trip. The pics are all what they took during the time I was there. They truly gave me the grand tour spending precious time to make this all possible. Also, the trip was a double blessing for me to be with Juanita, my dear sister in “love” and her family. This was truly a God planned trip and most of all I am thankful for His wonderful protection.

Love, to all,
Grandma Rita

February 21, 2009

LIVING IN SOUTH PHOENIX

GRANDMA RITA’S RAMBLINGS



To my Grandkids with love

January, 2009

Recently I got a call from Evelyn, my dear friend from South Phoenix. After visiting a bit I invited her and her husband and family to come out and have dinner with me. As Evelyn wrote later in an e mail, “it was a blessed evening”. We talked about experiences we had when we lived in the South Phoenix area.

The Oakes have eight children, four who still live at home. Three came that evening, Candace(16), and their twin boys, Timothy and Aaron(14). They seemed to enjoy it as much as we did.

Now I want to take you back to the beginning of my story:

THE 60’S and 70’S
The story I’m about to tell you happened in the 1970’s but God was preparing us for it even in the 1960’s Really this time in history was a pretty painful time for those of us who were living it out. It is hard to give you a true description of the climate of unrest that prevailed over our nation in the 1960’s. I am going to just list for you some of the main events before I get in to how these days affected your grandpa Lynn and me, as well as our family. This would include your parents.

Here are happenings that birthed a huge culture change:

Vietnam War

College campuses scenes of protest.

JF Kennedy assassinated (1962)

1963 Martin Luther King leading peaceful sit-ins--”I Have a Dream” speech.

Styles: long hair, polyester pant suits, Afros, and much more.

Black’s (no longer Negroes), Hispanics no longer Mexicans, Native Americans and Women--all wanting their rights.

Watt’s riots (1965) broke out in LA.

Hispanics under Caesar Chavez were considered an oppressed minority,
American Indians asserted their plight in violent protests and wanted to be Native Americans. Women organized and were known as NOW. It was the birth of Women’s Lib.

It was decided by the Supreme Court that we didn’t need God in our public schools making it unconstitutional to pray.

The Hippie Movement was the order of the day and along with it the sex revolution, drugs, communes and mystic religions. Out of this came the Jesus Movement.

Churches were also going through changes. Your Grandpa Lynn at the time was pastor of a new church in Tempe started in 1964. He had an honest desire to see us adapt to people’s needs without compromising the truth of Scripture. It was a stretching time for all of us.

It was during this time that we heard a man speak by the name of Keith Phillips. He had a ministry in the Watts District in Los Angeles. He left a deep impression on us as we realized more and more the needs--physical and spiritual, of the black communities in the inner cities of our country. Many of the larger cities were experiencing tremendous turmoil and riots.

Keith’s passion became ours as well. But how to become involved was
something we thought and prayed over a lot. As is usually the case, we had to just take a step at a time. We would have liked it if we could have seen the big picture but God knew what was best for us.



Around that time we came in contact with Lee Montigue, a retired Air Force man who had just started a small Bible School called Canaan Bible Institute in South Phoenix. He asked Lynn to teach some Bible classes in the school. There were five young men who had a heart to learn and to see some changes in the black churches. Lee also worked with New Chance Ministries providing a camp in the mountains of Arizona for inner city youth.

After some time we left the Tempe Evangelical Free Church and bought a house in South Phoenix.
We had heard Keith Phillips emphasize how futile it is to do, as many have done-go down to the inner city to “do ministry” and then go back home to live in the safer suburbs.

We moved in to a neighborhood that was mostly Blacks with a few Hispanic families. We weren’t sure where to begin but we started to attend the Salt of the Earth Church.

Claudell Miles, the pastor received us graciously and we could sense that his preaching was true to the Bible. Our strongest desire was to live out the Gospel and in some way let those around us know that we really did care about the needs of our neighbors and those around us whether it was physical or spiritual. How well we accomplished that I will leave it to others to decide. There were blunders and painful happenings along the way but all I can say is we did what our hearts told us to do.

This all Black Church lovingly befriended us and we came to love them as well. We wanted to keep a pretty low profile and just be involved when we were asked. Lynn became the teacher of the Adult Bible Class and I, with the help of Evelyn Oakes, had a children’s choir we called “Kids of the Kingdom“.
This was a very delightful time not only for the kids but for us. During that time Evelyn and I became very close friends. We so enjoyed working together in ministries with kids.

Lynn got a job working at the same school where I was teaching Elementary Music. This school was a beautiful example of Blacks, Hispanics and Whites all working together side by side and nobody seemed to be concerned about skin color!


A few months later, we started the “Neighborhood Kids Club”. It was held in our home. Pictured were those who helped me. All were from the neighborhood.

It was once a week plus some parties and game activities along the way. I have often wondered where these kids are today-they were mostly from our neighborhood. Did any of the teachings stick with them as they grew up? Only God knows.

During these years we came to know some beautiful people. One that I want to tell you about was called “Big Mama”. Her real name was Roberta Miles. Big Mama birthed 11 children. The ones we knew best was Claudell, the Pastor of Salt of the Earth Church and my friend, Evelyn Oakes. Big Mama would put the youngest on her back and pick cotton in the fields around Coolidge, Arizona. Her husband was a good provider and the children were well cared for.

By the time we met Big Mama she was in her 80’s living either with Claudell or Evelyn. She seemed to be so happy with so little. She didn’t talk as much about her faith as living it.

One time she went with Evelyn and me to a Women’s Retreat. She was wearing a neat new cotton dress with pink and white stripes. I mentioned a couple of times how pretty it was and how nice she looked in it. Shortly after she came to me with it folded neatly and told me she wanted me to have it. I was so surprised that I hardly knew what to say. But I knew it would not be right for me to decline. It was her giving heart that caused me to remember her by all these years.

She made dozens of quilts, rocked and tended all of Evelyn’s eight children and reprimanded each one when they needed it. Her life was simple and adequate in her later years. Her body was strong. She died at the age of 97. I was privileged to attend her Memorial Service. The church was full of her family and others that her life touched- like mine. There was so much love there as they gave honor and respect to their beloved Big Mama. Her son Claudell preached, granddaughter Michelle, a journalist by profession, gave tribute to her grandmother, as well as her son in law that she lived with in her last years. It was all so right. For reasons that I can’t easily explain, my heart was so touched.

We were still living in South Phoenix when your Grandpa Lynn died. It seemed right to me to leave that area but not without feeling much richer than when we went. We learned so much-sometimes the hard way. Mostly I felt a deep gratitude for this slice of time in our lives when God allowed us to gain so many precious friends that remain to this day.