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NEXT - ELKINS & SHENANDOAH


n 1942, Annual Conference met at our home church, Vienna, W. Va. I was returned to the Freemansburg Charge, but was struggling with the conviction that I needed more education. I had asked about a student pastorate in the Southeast Ohio Conference, so that I could attend Otterbein College, at Westerville. One month after Conference, I received a wire offering me the Harrisburg-Pleasant Corners charge, 31 miles from the college. After much prayer, we were led to accept the offer, and resigned reluctantly from a happy pastorate to return to school after eight years as full time pastor.

Memories of the Freemansburg Charge include the Sunday morning, Dec. 7th, 1941. 1 went to the door at the close of the service, and Ernest King, who had baby-sat with the children while his wife came to church, came running across the street and told me that the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor. When Elizabeth heard the news, she went around to the back of the church and shed a few tears.

Even though it was a student work, I received $100 more salary than the work at Freemansburg paid me. I arranged my classes to attend college on a Monday - Wednesday - Friday schedule. I stayed at home the other three weekdays, spending them in study. I did my pastoral calling and sermon preparation in the evenings. Our son, Marion, had to change schools for the last year of high school, attending at Grove City.

Howard was in second grade, and had only to walk next door to the schoolhouse in Harrisburg. Gasoline was rationed in those war years, and I was allowed only a "C" ration card. Many times it would not last for the 186 miles I had to drive weekly. It was necessary to catch the bus at 5:30 a.m., change buses in Columbus for Westerville, arriving just in time for 7:30 classes. In spite of my heavy schedule, and having been out of school for so long, I managed an "A" in all subjects except one. This was French II, making a "B" in that one for the first semester only, then bringing it up to an "A" and graduating magna cum laude.

Since I had only 3 semester hours to complete for the A. B. degree in June, 1944, I enrolled at Ohio State University in the Political Science Department for the fall term, completing the 3 hours at Otterbein by writing a thesis for honors, using the subject, "The Jews, and Their Prospects for a Just and Durable Peace." So I had the unusual experience of getting two degrees in three months, getting the A. B. at Otterbein in June, and the M. A. in Political Science in August of the same year.

Elizabeth was a loyal and a devoted wife during these busy years, working full time to help us pay expenses. The first year, she worked at J. C. Penneys in Columbus in dress sales; the second year as sales person for the National Biscuit Company. The next year they reverted to their pre-war practice of using only men for this work, so she taught first and second grades boys, from 6 to 15 year-olds, at the Orient School for the feebleminded.

This year was interrupted by the necessity for a serious operation in February. I had preached for a revival meeting in the United Brethren Church in Elkins, W. Va. (my home community) in 1941. 1 felt a definite leading from the Holy Spirit to go to that very small congregation to lead them in the building of a new house of worship to replace their very dilapidated one. I wrote of this feeling to Dr. T. L Miles, the conference superintendent. He and the Bishop concurred, and assigned us there at conference time in September, 1945.

It was an eventful year for us, since our older son, Marion, after finishing high school and one year along with me at Otterbein and working one year at the Goodrich Tire and Rubber Co. in Akron, Ohio, had joined the navy, and was sent to do submarine patrol duty on the North Atlantic. This added to our very heavy burden of the graduating year, the new assignment and the move from Ohio back to West Virginia.

Since I am leaving Ohio, this is a good time to divert to a more humorous vein. I found a strong contempt among native Ohioans for my home state, especially on the part of those who had never visited that state.

My French teacher, Dr. Gilbert Mills, was from Buckhannon, W. Va. Once, while studying a French play, an old French king had a court maiden come to him on the throne, and gave her a pinch of snuff from his gold snuff box. One of the girls in the class said, (in English) "Dr. Mills, they still rub snuff down in West Virginia." Professor Mills said to me, 'They have us there, don't they Brady?" A student who worked in a local grocery said, "You'd be surprised how much snuff we sell right here in Westerville at the local grocery store." Several girls spoke up simultaneously, "Oh-h-h no! Not in Westerville!"

Prof. 'Buckeye' Altman stated in my English class: "People still live in log houses with dirt floors over in West Virginia." He had never been there. I can state positively that conditions are no more primitive in West Virginia than in southern Ohio. In fact, the dirtiest home I was ever in was on the highway, 13 miles southwest of Columbus. I was asked to visit a sick man in that house, and found a dying man, lying in a bed with two hens roosting on the head of his bed. Chicken lice were so thick that I had to keep stamping my feet to keep them front crawling up my shoes to my body. I never saw anything that bad in my home state!

Once I did have a similar experience, but not quite so dirty, I went home with some young folks to stay all night during a revival. We were seated around a stove in the living room, when I distinctly heard a pig grunt. When I looked up inquiringly, the father said, "Oh, you're lookin' for Samantha. She's layin here by my chair. She grunts when I scratch her back." When bedtime came, I followed two big teen-age sons between two beds in a tiny room, to a ladder nailed to the back wall, We climbed to the high loft, and I went to bed in a sagging mattress between the two boys. It was in March, and snow was blowing in where the mud had fallen out of the 'chinks' between the logs in the wall. We had only one old World War I army blanket over us. In spite of their body odor, I was glad for the heat of the two bodies before morning!

Another experience was unforgettable. I had been warned not to go home with one family, but one night during a revival, we had a very heavy rain. Besides myself, only one other person showed up at the church, a young man from that home. I read a scripture lesson, and had prayer before the young man said, "Now, Preacher, you have to go home with me tonight. There is nobody else here." Well, we walked for a mile up a steep hill in the red mud.

I had been warned. The odor was almost unbearable! The boy hung up his lantern and said, "Hey, Paw, guess what we have for breakfast? Preacher!" "Put him in your bed. You can sleep on the cot," said 'Paw. Man and wife were in a bed in the 'front' room. (The woman weighed over 400 pounds. She wanted to be baptized by immersion, but the pastors were all afraid to try to lift her out of the water.)

The son picked up the oil lamp from the table and led the way up a steep stairway to the second floor. It was a "story and a half house, with the sloping ceilings common to such. These were four teenage daughters, lying in two double beds in a room without partitions. The boy put down the lamp, took off all his clothes, and lay down on the cot.

"You can have my bed there," he said, indicating another double bed. "Do you blow out this lamp?" I asked. "Hope, we leave her burn," he replied. What was I to do? I had to get into my pajamas in some way, and while the girls all had their eyes closed, I had no way of knowing if they were asleep, or "playing 'possum."

Because of the slope of the ceiling, the bed would go no closer than three feet to the wall. I bent over, after having turned the lamp down as low as I dared crawled back in the space behind the head of the bed, and changed my clothes. I came out, turned up the lamp, put my shirt over the dirty pillow, and crawled into the filthy sheets. In a few minutes, I felt something crawling on my back. I caught the insect and crushed it between my finger and thumb, and from earlier experiences, knew from the odor that I had caught a bedbug. I fought those bugs all night until about 4:30, when the early June daylight gave me relief. When I threw back the covers, A whole battalion of bedbugs scurried for cover into a hole in the old straw mattress.

At six o'clock, the alarm sounded downstairs, the old man's feet hit the floor, and he began to sing, "Going Up to Jerusalem, Just Like John." One of the girls said, "Let's get up and go downstairs, maybe he'll shut up." I politely turned my back, but could have saved the energy, for when I went downstairs, I knew that all of the girls had slept in their clothes, from the many wrinkles.

"Well, I sung the cooks up; now I'll sing the preacher up." the father said. He sang all the way out to feed the pigs. The girls called, "Breakfast!" and we sat down to biscuits, sorghum molasses, fat-back pork warmed until it was just quivery, and black postum. (The father said drinking coffee was a sin.)

I thought, "I like sorghum, so I'll eat some on a biscuit and wash it down with postum." I asked a hypocritical blessing on the food and picked up a biscuit. I tried to break it open, but my fingers slipped off. On the third try, the gummy interior finally strung out and it broke open, and inside was curled a long black hair. I said, "You'll have to excuse me. I didn't sleep well last night, and I don't feel well this morning." It was every word true! I went out behind the barn and lost even my dinner from the night before.

I drove the 26 miles back home that night after church. When I told Elizabeth at the door about the bedbugs, she made me take off all my clothes on the front porch. I even had to leave my suitcase outside. Needless to say, I never went back to that house to eat or sleep again!

Such are the fortunes of those who would serve the Lord in West Virginia in the earlier days. I found that conditions were worse near the Ohio River than in the mountain areas of the state.

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The Brady Trilogy  I  Reclaimed Memories - (1991)  I  Pop Troy's Anthology - ( 1992)  I  Kinfolk - (1994)



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