Dear Folks:
I know you're wondering whats happened to me - NOTHING exciting. But we decided to stay here a few months - the new "Miss World" is from down in these parts!!! Actually I have been approached to accept a "charge" as "stated supply" for a few months. Apocalyptically - at the same time came a letter from Guadalajara saying "we must have a married couple" so that church is out. What a narrow attitude. If a man can't stand alone, no wife will help.
It all began when I went to church at a Presbyt. Cathedral (God's frozen people) just swarming with a congregation of 40 head. Anyhow, the Africaner paster took me to "tea" & dinner, salted and savoired with a good dose of Apartheid. In the course of conversation he offered me this 300 mens church in the industrial area. The stipend wil not be much but of frugale I can save & replenish my capital. After all, a T bone .steak dinner with all the courses costs less thatn a $1. It would be a real job preaching twice a week with my "barrell" at home - I don't even have a Bible (N.T. is all); besides I'm just not dressed for it - (Feminine?); no clerics band, or robe - naked by ecclesiastical standards! Tuesday, its acceptance by Presbyt & after that a grand march on Pretoria to get a new Visa, (an experience in itself).
Sent home for JHB two items 1) some African records - jungle boys (forgot to take down the names & #'s - when they arrive tgell me what I bought. 2) ivory bracelet, beads & a Bacuba hat. All of the newpaper clippings I used as packing please spread out and save SAVE! If you want to read the best travelogue "The Heart of Africa" Alex Campbell, 1954Alfred A. Knopf N.Y.; "Tell Freedom: Memories of Africa" by Peter Abrahams N.Y. 1954. "Dr. Sschweitzer:An Anthology" Charles R Joy, Beacon Press London. 1925 "On the Edge of the Primevil Forest" ,1938 "From my African Notebook" both by Schweitzer pub Allen & Unwine; "The Dark Eye in Africa" Laurens Van Depost - who is a South African Boer.
One reason for my prolonged stay is that I've found this country the hardest one to find out what's going on. As you know, I have been examining & studying missions. But here - few Americans are at work and the rest are clams; Besides, I am sure that much of the work is without government approval - and the less said the better. Of all lands I've visited this is the closest to a police state of any. Fear, suspicion, and unprovoked police raids happen all the time. 75% of the people are subject to arrest at all times, if they don't carry a "pass", are in the wrong district of town, walk thru a door marked "European", or have a drink of whiskey. Where it will all and can only be defined in the word TRAGEDY! And the forces are forming, more severely and more deadly than the "white" man admits.
To study this country, to see what is happening, to be honest will take time. To, to find out more, to penetrate the surface, and to come to any conclusions will take time. No one needs me at home - so why not make the most of this opportunity - to pause in my travels, assimilate some of my experiences, do a little work for a change, I then go on refreshed and revived!
PS If the immigration people cause too much trouble I'll just move on.
My love to all;
Bruce
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Octiober 4, 1958
Dear Hugh:
Here I am, holed up in a Methodist Mission getting all my summer mail read. Three months is quite a spell to be out of touch with civilization. Have more of my Malad parishmen's answered "the rollcall up yonder". Barstow wrote about Guardalajara & nuberous epistles of less note.
Please excuse the delay in answering your July 18th letter - but I just picked it up today. No doubt you're all settled - but in case not - here goes on your questions.
Parma is a town and country church. Marshall, the previous pastor was a pretty good guy . He was always looking for a good deal - guess he found it as rel prof at CofI. Don't know the church very well - The farmers around there are loaded, conservative and good people. John Show has a church 5 miles away - ask him about the set-up. Idaho Falls is the fastest growing city of Idaho (the Oakridge of the West) with a large (1200) growing Presbyt. Church. Dr. Gulick, the grand old man of the Presbyt (36 yrs at Id Falls) plans to retire soon. Harry Washburn (remember him met at seminary) was there as associate for about 8 yrs. There were factions in the church built around the precher's personalities but I think of that as being resolved. I think a lot of Dr. Guliek and he supported me at Presbytery in every way he could. One of these days they intend to start a new church at Id Falls. I don't know much about Laramie - the connection of both Harvard is that he went to Union and Butreck was one of his proffs. If you have any questions on Idaho Falls, I can probably help you out.
Much has happened since we last corresponded. Fr Eq. Af., Congo, Rhodesias, and no So Af. Took up the Se Presbyt. Mission in the Congo - They treated my like a long lost brother. Now the roses are blooming. There are girls sun-bathing, beautiful blooming jaserandas line the streets, my window I see pile after pile of slag, Jo'burg is on a drift, and gold mines stretch for 40 miles. The deepest mine in the world is here, 2 miles over 11,000 ft down.
Last night I visitest a compound where the mine workers are housed. There we held a literacy class (Lauback method) for contract laborers imported from Mozambique. Outside the door, in red hot jive the drums were playing and men were dancing: inside it was hyms, prayer and reading books on the life of Christ. All designed to keep the "native" calm, cool, unblemished from knife wounds and fit for work. These devices are considered by the officialts to relieve tensions and suppressed desires. I WONDER. The men have left their families, wives, and children, to work for 12 to 18 monoths. This is tough for a man as sexed up as the African - unnatural social situations - "apartheid" at its worse and we wonder why the African is revolting in his chains? These are wonderful, happy long suffering people - but how much will they take?
Along the highway I passed Sophia-town (Read Alan Patons "Cry, The Beloved Country") This was the only place in the city where the native could own property - you see, the sewers emptied here - the place STUNK! Today a modern "disposal plant" has been put in and the blight is gone - i.e. Good real-estate. So the government condemns, white housing units are built and the "native" is pushed into rental units. Here is freedom, justice and Christianity in South Africa! There is fear among the whites - you an feel it in the air, why shouldn't there be? "Whatever you sow - That you will also reap!"
Next week I hope to go to Kruger Park to see the big game - here; man is caged, its illegal to get out of the car. And problems: I cannot get a telephoto lens for my camera, so we will have no pictures - PITY!
Here I am, holed up in a Methodist Mission getting all my summer mail read. Three months is quite a spell to be out of touch with civilization. Have more of my Malad parishmen's answered "the rollcall up yonder". Barstow wrote about Guardalajara & nuberous epistles of less note.
Please excuse the delay in answering your July 18th letter - but I just picked it up today. No doubt you're all settled - but in case not - here goes on your questions.
Parma is a town and country church. Marshall, the previous pastor was a pretty good guy . He was always looking for a good deal - guess he found it as rel prof at CofI. Don't know the church very well - The farmers around there are loaded, conservative and good people. John Show has a church 5 miles away - ask him about the set-up. Idaho Falls is the fastest growing city of Idaho (the Oakridge of the West) with a large (1200) growing Presbyt. Church. Dr. Gulick, the grand old man of the Presbyt (36 yrs at Id Falls) plans to retire soon. Harry Washburn (remember him met at seminary) was there as associate for about 8 yrs. There were factions in the church built around the precher's personalities but I think of that as being resolved. I think a lot of Dr. Guliek and he supported me at Presbytery in every way he could. One of these days they intend to start a new church at Id Falls. I don't know much about Laramie - the connection of both Harvard is that he went to Union and Butreck was one of his proffs. If you have any questions on Idaho Falls, I can probably help you out.
Much has happened since we last corresponded. Fr Eq. Af., Congo, Rhodesias, and no So Af. Took up the Se Presbyt. Mission in the Congo - They treated my like a long lost brother. Now the roses are blooming. There are girls sun-bathing, beautiful blooming jaserandas line the streets, my window I see pile after pile of slag, Jo'burg is on a drift, and gold mines stretch for 40 miles. The deepest mine in the world is here, 2 miles over 11,000 ft down.
Last night I visitest a compound where the mine workers are housed. There we held a literacy class (Lauback method) for contract laborers imported from Mozambique. Outside the door, in red hot jive the drums were playing and men were dancing: inside it was hyms, prayer and reading books on the life of Christ. All designed to keep the "native" calm, cool, unblemished from knife wounds and fit for work. These devices are considered by the officialts to relieve tensions and suppressed desires. I WONDER. The men have left their families, wives, and children, to work for 12 to 18 monoths. This is tough for a man as sexed up as the African - unnatural social situations - "apartheid" at its worse and we wonder why the African is revolting in his chains? These are wonderful, happy long suffering people - but how much will they take?
Along the highway I passed Sophia-town (Read Alan Patons "Cry, The Beloved Country") This was the only place in the city where the native could own property - you see, the sewers emptied here - the place STUNK! Today a modern "disposal plant" has been put in and the blight is gone - i.e. Good real-estate. So the government condemns, white housing units are built and the "native" is pushed into rental units. Here is freedom, justice and Christianity in South Africa! There is fear among the whites - you an feel it in the air, why shouldn't there be? "Whatever you sow - That you will also reap!"
Next week I hope to go to Kruger Park to see the big game - here; man is caged, its illegal to get out of the car. And problems: I cannot get a telephoto lens for my camera, so we will have no pictures - PITY!
Saturday, October 13, 2012
October 4, 1958 Johannesburg
Dear Sniffer Jean;
Just got into town the other day and have been working thru a pile of correspondence ever since. Your last letter was dated July 30th - so its been a long time since I heard from Malad. Mrs. Mahaffrey sent clippings of "Jack Frosts" acceptance and your mothers funeral. Please know that I share with you the loss and am sure you miss her greatly. She had a wonderful, triumphant spirit which struggled to overcome all obstacles. I am glad that her problems have ceased and she is now at rest. How providential that you were home this last hear to make life so meaningful and full for her. Of course I assume the funeral went as it was set up years ago Just out of curiosity, where is the grave? No doubt this has been a very trying time - dealing with emotional outbursts but hope everything has calmed down. There are new adjustments ahead and I hope everything works itself out.
Congratulations! Finally you zeroed in on a pastor. By the build-up on the paper, about all he hasn't done is swim the English Channel - as we say in French FORMIDABLE. Just think, an engineering, law, BD, degree with a Mrs who has a B.D. and "Bee by". Such a formal array of letters surely ought to confuse the Mormons. And what about a manse? Started a campaign to buy yet? Whose this Maralyn Bjorkman? I'll kick myself if I missed another wedding fee.
Got a letter from some guy who is looking for a pastor for a church at Guadalajara, Mexico - it is right down my alley (ideal vacation spot). The only problem in accepting a call is I'm too slow and too far away.
So much for the mail bag. Here I sit in delightful Spring weather (guess it was frightfully cold in July and Aug). My this letter is getting long (It'll costs a fortune to mail). But then its been a spell since I wrote last. Oh yeh - I must mention the romances ( "one in every port" is the motoe). Something wrong - I keep giving these eligible, lonely, maiden missionaires a break - must be the jungle fever. The last was a 30 year old nurse in S Rhodesia. We went hunting together; while she and I sat on an ant hill waiting for game to come to the water hole, our chaperone, with his elephant rifle blasted away at a Duiker (about the size of a jack rabbit). He just creased its back but half the meat was spoiled. Actually, I think I was the boy with the big game...mmmmmm...YES!!!
Told some fellows I was interested in buying a ranch. They pricked up their ears and took me 200 mls (each way) into the bush to see a layout. A dirty trick - but at least I saw some mighty fine country - and if I were buying a ranch in Africa this would be it! Just think all the land you want, with shoulder high grass, easily put under gravity irrigation, for $4 an acre. Labor is cheap too - $7.00 a month. Don't tell Johnny Fred or he'll bust a blood vessel n excitement. Truly this is the pioneer land of the 20th cent. Wish I was young and would make a start.
I'm going to be around Jo'Burg tell Oct 14 (you can get a letter here by then); Then look on your maps, follow me as I go to Salesbury, Lake Tanganyika, Dar es Salaam, Kilamanaro. Till Oct 24th my address will be Presbyterian Mission. After that it is Am. Express, Cairo.
Give the girls my love - and I hope all is well.
Sincerely,
Bruce
Just got into town the other day and have been working thru a pile of correspondence ever since. Your last letter was dated July 30th - so its been a long time since I heard from Malad. Mrs. Mahaffrey sent clippings of "Jack Frosts" acceptance and your mothers funeral. Please know that I share with you the loss and am sure you miss her greatly. She had a wonderful, triumphant spirit which struggled to overcome all obstacles. I am glad that her problems have ceased and she is now at rest. How providential that you were home this last hear to make life so meaningful and full for her. Of course I assume the funeral went as it was set up years ago Just out of curiosity, where is the grave? No doubt this has been a very trying time - dealing with emotional outbursts but hope everything has calmed down. There are new adjustments ahead and I hope everything works itself out.
Congratulations! Finally you zeroed in on a pastor. By the build-up on the paper, about all he hasn't done is swim the English Channel - as we say in French FORMIDABLE. Just think, an engineering, law, BD, degree with a Mrs who has a B.D. and "Bee by". Such a formal array of letters surely ought to confuse the Mormons. And what about a manse? Started a campaign to buy yet? Whose this Maralyn Bjorkman? I'll kick myself if I missed another wedding fee.
Got a letter from some guy who is looking for a pastor for a church at Guadalajara, Mexico - it is right down my alley (ideal vacation spot). The only problem in accepting a call is I'm too slow and too far away.
So much for the mail bag. Here I sit in delightful Spring weather (guess it was frightfully cold in July and Aug). My this letter is getting long (It'll costs a fortune to mail). But then its been a spell since I wrote last. Oh yeh - I must mention the romances ( "one in every port" is the motoe). Something wrong - I keep giving these eligible, lonely, maiden missionaires a break - must be the jungle fever. The last was a 30 year old nurse in S Rhodesia. We went hunting together; while she and I sat on an ant hill waiting for game to come to the water hole, our chaperone, with his elephant rifle blasted away at a Duiker (about the size of a jack rabbit). He just creased its back but half the meat was spoiled. Actually, I think I was the boy with the big game...mmmmmm...YES!!!
Told some fellows I was interested in buying a ranch. They pricked up their ears and took me 200 mls (each way) into the bush to see a layout. A dirty trick - but at least I saw some mighty fine country - and if I were buying a ranch in Africa this would be it! Just think all the land you want, with shoulder high grass, easily put under gravity irrigation, for $4 an acre. Labor is cheap too - $7.00 a month. Don't tell Johnny Fred or he'll bust a blood vessel n excitement. Truly this is the pioneer land of the 20th cent. Wish I was young and would make a start.
I'm going to be around Jo'Burg tell Oct 14 (you can get a letter here by then); Then look on your maps, follow me as I go to Salesbury, Lake Tanganyika, Dar es Salaam, Kilamanaro. Till Oct 24th my address will be Presbyterian Mission. After that it is Am. Express, Cairo.
Give the girls my love - and I hope all is well.
Sincerely,
Bruce
Sunday, October 7, 2012
August 9, 1958 Annual mission meeting
Dear Folks;
Well here I sit in the annual mission meeting at Elate. An African, pastor is now holding forth telling the "fraternal workers" how to get a long. We've been listening to all the problems of the church; its frustration, persecution and it's pleasures. Here are all our missionairies in Cameroun - about 120 strong - with many fine, talented people in the group.
Paragragh edit out by tcc
The last week I've been sick with some kind of African measles. The damage done - but its much nicer to be sick at home than out in the bush.
Am getting some names and addresses down South so will be able to stop at other missions in Africa. The Congo etc. It will probably take me two or three weeks to get to Johannesburgh - but thats ok. I have plenty of time now the big game hunt looks out of the question - but am going into elephant country and might see some of the beasts.
At the work camps we had a tape recorder and took some type of drums, dancing and singing. This will come home sometimes in the fall so PERSERVE IT for me. Got the film bags - THANKS - will send some home. I appreciate this very much. This presents a problem. 1. That I won't see the film to identify the shots before I forget 2. There is no opportunity to see how my camera is behaving if it leaks light and if my exposure is correct. There are KODAK processing plants around the world (not technicolor) and I can get my film develped in these various places, ie. Johanessburg, Rome, Paris, etc. That s why I want KODAK - kodachange bags for technicolor I have to send home without editing. Still I would like some 6 exposure bags to carrry with me 4-6.
There is very little native craft work in this area. What little handiwork there is, is rough and dying out. The people would rather buy an enamel kettle than make one of their own. They hang advertisements out of magazines on their walls instead of creating their own art. All these cheap foreign goods replace the native crafts. Hence I won't be able to send much from this part of Africa.
Just got a letter that my friend Robbie MacFarland is getting married to a Lutheran girl. He just met her this summer, and Aug 1th the ceremony. If he can do it so can I; when I am old enough for such a responsibility. Would like to send them a present. Would you please wrap up the "salad forks" from Denmark and asend them from me.
He has accepted "a call" to a church in North Dakota and I am sure they will have a powerful ministry now that Robbie has direction, his tremendous drive and brilliance will know no bounds.
A guy wanted to give me an ape today. What would I have done with the critter - after all, as I said previously I am not ready to get married.
John and I are thinking of going down to the coast tomorrow - should be fun swimming in the surf and we are only 3 hours away. This is just North of Spanish Guinea on your map. Then to Libama and another mission station for a couple of days, Douda and then South to Brazzoville. I hope to spend about a week in the Congo area - Then on S. to Elizabethville and Ndola. From Ndola I hope to go via bus to Victoria Falls - This should take another week - Then a couple of weeks in the Johannesburgh area - So start sending my mail down there for the next month. I hope to visits Kruger Park, look over he racial problems of Apartheid and see life "down under".
There is so much to see and this is such a big country that I don't know when I'll get north. I have heard no word from any church so it looks like I might as well relax and just wander. I'm scheduled for the Am. Sch. In Jerusalem the middle of Sept. but might not make it by then. Besides my expenses are minimal, so what's the rush - only $100 this last month.
Well I'd best send this on it's way. Do write tell me what's going on.
Love,
Bruce
Well here I sit in the annual mission meeting at Elate. An African, pastor is now holding forth telling the "fraternal workers" how to get a long. We've been listening to all the problems of the church; its frustration, persecution and it's pleasures. Here are all our missionairies in Cameroun - about 120 strong - with many fine, talented people in the group.
Paragragh edit out by tcc
The last week I've been sick with some kind of African measles. The damage done - but its much nicer to be sick at home than out in the bush.
Am getting some names and addresses down South so will be able to stop at other missions in Africa. The Congo etc. It will probably take me two or three weeks to get to Johannesburgh - but thats ok. I have plenty of time now the big game hunt looks out of the question - but am going into elephant country and might see some of the beasts.
At the work camps we had a tape recorder and took some type of drums, dancing and singing. This will come home sometimes in the fall so PERSERVE IT for me. Got the film bags - THANKS - will send some home. I appreciate this very much. This presents a problem. 1. That I won't see the film to identify the shots before I forget 2. There is no opportunity to see how my camera is behaving if it leaks light and if my exposure is correct. There are KODAK processing plants around the world (not technicolor) and I can get my film develped in these various places, ie. Johanessburg, Rome, Paris, etc. That s why I want KODAK - kodachange bags for technicolor I have to send home without editing. Still I would like some 6 exposure bags to carrry with me 4-6.
There is very little native craft work in this area. What little handiwork there is, is rough and dying out. The people would rather buy an enamel kettle than make one of their own. They hang advertisements out of magazines on their walls instead of creating their own art. All these cheap foreign goods replace the native crafts. Hence I won't be able to send much from this part of Africa.
Just got a letter that my friend Robbie MacFarland is getting married to a Lutheran girl. He just met her this summer, and Aug 1th the ceremony. If he can do it so can I; when I am old enough for such a responsibility. Would like to send them a present. Would you please wrap up the "salad forks" from Denmark and asend them from me.
He has accepted "a call" to a church in North Dakota and I am sure they will have a powerful ministry now that Robbie has direction, his tremendous drive and brilliance will know no bounds.
A guy wanted to give me an ape today. What would I have done with the critter - after all, as I said previously I am not ready to get married.
John and I are thinking of going down to the coast tomorrow - should be fun swimming in the surf and we are only 3 hours away. This is just North of Spanish Guinea on your map. Then to Libama and another mission station for a couple of days, Douda and then South to Brazzoville. I hope to spend about a week in the Congo area - Then on S. to Elizabethville and Ndola. From Ndola I hope to go via bus to Victoria Falls - This should take another week - Then a couple of weeks in the Johannesburgh area - So start sending my mail down there for the next month. I hope to visits Kruger Park, look over he racial problems of Apartheid and see life "down under".
There is so much to see and this is such a big country that I don't know when I'll get north. I have heard no word from any church so it looks like I might as well relax and just wander. I'm scheduled for the Am. Sch. In Jerusalem the middle of Sept. but might not make it by then. Besides my expenses are minimal, so what's the rush - only $100 this last month.
Well I'd best send this on it's way. Do write tell me what's going on.
Love,
Bruce
Friday, October 5, 2012
January 7, 1958
Dear Folks;
And after the storm, "the still small voice." Or, a voice coming from the wilderness. Can't remember when I last wrote; the most recent I have record of was written December 12th (hope I haven't been that delinquent). Anyhow, there is reason for my silence I've bee as busy as the sparrow caught in a badmitten game. What with the Christmas rush, church work, and girls (you know, these females are so much like an old time evangelist, always pressing for a decision).
Christmas was hellish and beleive me no one gave me time to sorrow and feel homesickk. Heck I turned down 30 dinner invitations and then played musical chair all afternoon from one house to another; by the time I finished I was water-logged with tea. I sure miss our old Yankee coffee. Got for Christmas a couple of books, shirt and tie, a dozen of hankies (maybe, because of my nasal drawl, they think I need to blow my nose). Also very welcome were around 100 Christmas cards and letters from America (wish I had the money put into stamps on them). One disappintment, I never received a card or letter from the Neil Olsons or Dale Scheers - guess they must feel since I'm so far out here that they might as well write my obituary and have done with me. We had Holy Communion on Christmas day and the church was jammed, it was the most moving service of my ministry. On Dec. 21st in the morning we had a service of "Nine Carols and Readings" and in the evening I directed our church choir in singing Handel's "Messiah." It took a bit to whip them into shape as during practice I always heard "but this is the way we have always done it". Their attitude could be summed up in the words "Come weal or come wee, my status is quo." I even overheard one choir member say, "He's wee young, he will learn our ways." To make a long story short, I was young, had some ideas of my own, and they learned my ways.
Sunday night we had a reception for our new organist from London; what a combination, a Yankee preacher, an Africaans session clerk, and now a Limey organist in a Scotch Presbyterian Church. It sort of reminds me of something I see on the breakfast menu every morning, "savory hash," and I hope this church hash is much more savory than what I have for breakfast.
Last night at session meeting they asked me to stay on as their regular pastor - to become a South African. And if I insisted on going home, to turn around and come back. Also some of the ministers in Presbytery are tyring to persuade me to hang on here. They all admire the American way, organization, and vital life given to the church. But I told all that I must go home, and where God leads then , I will follow. Then, to cinch the argument I asked them how they would feel to up and bury all their family, all their loved ones, all their friends on one day; that is what it would mean for me to ex-patriate. Only because of some great catastophe would I consider staying here, earthquake, lightning, or marriage.
Last week I took a flying trip down into Zulu land. Left on Tuesday and was back on Friday. Put in 1,000 miles, 400 of them on dirt roads. It was interesting to get back into the native Reserves, where the only white men around were traders and missionaries. Here in Jhb crime is running rampant, and you always lock your car and room; but down on the reserve there was no theft and a man is much safer there with 60,0000 blacks living around him, that in the heart of the city. These South Africans get a "boot" out of my Yankee ways. I backed up to a service station and said to the native waiting, "filler 'er up with gas." Puzzled he replied, "What say?" and started jabbering in Zulu. The two guys in the car just roared with laughter - and finally clued me in that I should ask for "petrol."
Then we stopped to visit an American Lutheran Mission. I said to the fellows, "Now, for once, we'll have a "coffee break" and you'll see some real American Coffee." So the first thing the lady said at the house, "Won't you come in and have some tea?" SHOT DOWN!!! To top it off I still wanted some Am. coffee, so said, "I'll take coffee instead of tea." But all I got was de-cafe. What a blow to my pride.
Now for some of the names of places we visited (wish I were there so be the pronunciation): Hluhluwe (pronounced shu-schluie), Mtuga tuba (mmmm- tuba) Umfolozi, ....(edit unreadable by tcc). The best way to tacle all these words is with a plug of tobacco in your mouth, then spit everytime you pronounce.
Talking about language: this Africaans is impossible. The first thing they taught me was a phrase and then they would tell me what it meant. It took me three weeks to find out it meant "give me kiss." And by that time my face as so red from being slapped that it didn't matter much. Just the hazards of being a foreigner.
Its time I started grinding out a sermon so will close for now.
Love
And after the storm, "the still small voice." Or, a voice coming from the wilderness. Can't remember when I last wrote; the most recent I have record of was written December 12th (hope I haven't been that delinquent). Anyhow, there is reason for my silence I've bee as busy as the sparrow caught in a badmitten game. What with the Christmas rush, church work, and girls (you know, these females are so much like an old time evangelist, always pressing for a decision).
Christmas was hellish and beleive me no one gave me time to sorrow and feel homesickk. Heck I turned down 30 dinner invitations and then played musical chair all afternoon from one house to another; by the time I finished I was water-logged with tea. I sure miss our old Yankee coffee. Got for Christmas a couple of books, shirt and tie, a dozen of hankies (maybe, because of my nasal drawl, they think I need to blow my nose). Also very welcome were around 100 Christmas cards and letters from America (wish I had the money put into stamps on them). One disappintment, I never received a card or letter from the Neil Olsons or Dale Scheers - guess they must feel since I'm so far out here that they might as well write my obituary and have done with me. We had Holy Communion on Christmas day and the church was jammed, it was the most moving service of my ministry. On Dec. 21st in the morning we had a service of "Nine Carols and Readings" and in the evening I directed our church choir in singing Handel's "Messiah." It took a bit to whip them into shape as during practice I always heard "but this is the way we have always done it". Their attitude could be summed up in the words "Come weal or come wee, my status is quo." I even overheard one choir member say, "He's wee young, he will learn our ways." To make a long story short, I was young, had some ideas of my own, and they learned my ways.
Sunday night we had a reception for our new organist from London; what a combination, a Yankee preacher, an Africaans session clerk, and now a Limey organist in a Scotch Presbyterian Church. It sort of reminds me of something I see on the breakfast menu every morning, "savory hash," and I hope this church hash is much more savory than what I have for breakfast.
Last night at session meeting they asked me to stay on as their regular pastor - to become a South African. And if I insisted on going home, to turn around and come back. Also some of the ministers in Presbytery are tyring to persuade me to hang on here. They all admire the American way, organization, and vital life given to the church. But I told all that I must go home, and where God leads then , I will follow. Then, to cinch the argument I asked them how they would feel to up and bury all their family, all their loved ones, all their friends on one day; that is what it would mean for me to ex-patriate. Only because of some great catastophe would I consider staying here, earthquake, lightning, or marriage.
Last week I took a flying trip down into Zulu land. Left on Tuesday and was back on Friday. Put in 1,000 miles, 400 of them on dirt roads. It was interesting to get back into the native Reserves, where the only white men around were traders and missionaries. Here in Jhb crime is running rampant, and you always lock your car and room; but down on the reserve there was no theft and a man is much safer there with 60,0000 blacks living around him, that in the heart of the city. These South Africans get a "boot" out of my Yankee ways. I backed up to a service station and said to the native waiting, "filler 'er up with gas." Puzzled he replied, "What say?" and started jabbering in Zulu. The two guys in the car just roared with laughter - and finally clued me in that I should ask for "petrol."
Then we stopped to visit an American Lutheran Mission. I said to the fellows, "Now, for once, we'll have a "coffee break" and you'll see some real American Coffee." So the first thing the lady said at the house, "Won't you come in and have some tea?" SHOT DOWN!!! To top it off I still wanted some Am. coffee, so said, "I'll take coffee instead of tea." But all I got was de-cafe. What a blow to my pride.
Now for some of the names of places we visited (wish I were there so be the pronunciation): Hluhluwe (pronounced shu-schluie), Mtuga tuba (mmmm- tuba) Umfolozi, ....(edit unreadable by tcc). The best way to tacle all these words is with a plug of tobacco in your mouth, then spit everytime you pronounce.
Talking about language: this Africaans is impossible. The first thing they taught me was a phrase and then they would tell me what it meant. It took me three weeks to find out it meant "give me kiss." And by that time my face as so red from being slapped that it didn't matter much. Just the hazards of being a foreigner.
Its time I started grinding out a sermon so will close for now.
Love
Thursday, October 4, 2012
January 5, 1958
Westminster Book Store
Witherspoon Building
Dear Sirs:
For several months now I have been a pastor in a church here in South Africa; having come from the United Presbyterian Church in the USA. I miss very much some of your very excellent church materials. Hence I would like to make the following order - to bring some of American's efficiency to this place. I still have an account in a bank in America and will pay you in "dollars" by check (when I am billed).
Surface mail takes six weeks to get to South Africa and Air mail seven days. So please fill my order immediately so that they will get here for use; by surface mail the following:
Quantity Number Description Price Dollars/cents
100 5745L Communion folder $2.00
200 AP-3595 or No. 3681 Easter Folder $4.00
(or some nice folder you have. Send me your most attractive Easter Folder - as there is not time for you to send samples for me to pick)
1 No 14 Junior hi kit $3.00
1 No 15 Youth Fellowship Kit $3.50
1 "Rejoice and Sing" .35
camp book
TOTAL $12.85
Also; I am starting a Coummicant's Class next week and would like to have two filmstrips. It is URGENT that I have three strips immediately so please AIRMAIL them along with their script (if you have no separate scripts then send me also "The Pastor's Guide").
1 Number 1. "Jesus Christ, Son of God" film strip and script 4.00
1 Number 4 "The Word and the Sacrements" film strip and script 4.00
TOTAL 8.00
Postage, via 2nd class AIRMAIL
Thank you for your help and I hope the "Communicant's Class Material" lots here within a week. Again, if you have no seperate scripts please send me "The Pastor's Guide" also airmail.
Thank you,
Sincerely
Witherspoon Building
Dear Sirs:
For several months now I have been a pastor in a church here in South Africa; having come from the United Presbyterian Church in the USA. I miss very much some of your very excellent church materials. Hence I would like to make the following order - to bring some of American's efficiency to this place. I still have an account in a bank in America and will pay you in "dollars" by check (when I am billed).
Surface mail takes six weeks to get to South Africa and Air mail seven days. So please fill my order immediately so that they will get here for use; by surface mail the following:
Quantity Number Description Price Dollars/cents
100 5745L Communion folder $2.00
200 AP-3595 or No. 3681 Easter Folder $4.00
(or some nice folder you have. Send me your most attractive Easter Folder - as there is not time for you to send samples for me to pick)
1 No 14 Junior hi kit $3.00
1 No 15 Youth Fellowship Kit $3.50
1 "Rejoice and Sing" .35
camp book
TOTAL $12.85
Also; I am starting a Coummicant's Class next week and would like to have two filmstrips. It is URGENT that I have three strips immediately so please AIRMAIL them along with their script (if you have no separate scripts then send me also "The Pastor's Guide").
1 Number 1. "Jesus Christ, Son of God" film strip and script 4.00
1 Number 4 "The Word and the Sacrements" film strip and script 4.00
TOTAL 8.00
Postage, via 2nd class AIRMAIL
Thank you for your help and I hope the "Communicant's Class Material" lots here within a week. Again, if you have no seperate scripts please send me "The Pastor's Guide" also airmail.
Thank you,
Sincerely
My dad:Story written by me while attending college
Story written by me while attending college. I think this was in the 90s when I was living at Moffett Field California after Andrew was born.
It is hard to describe my Dad without writing a novel. He has a led a complex life. Thinking about him makes me feel so somber yet feel so much love towards him. My dad has overcome obstacles that would break any normal person confidence.
y memories of my Dad when young bring on feelings of safety and happiness. He always spent time taking me hiking and teaching me to ski. He is a very tall man whose hair has gone from black to grey with time. I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t grey but childhood pictures show me that there was. He has a laugh that is well known in town. It is so loud and echoes. People know when he is in the vicinity.
My father was a minister, at the Federated Church in Placerville, California, before my birth until I was ten years old. Placerville is an old gold rush town full of history. The church is situated on a hill overlooking the town. It is an old wood building with a very warm feeling. I so admired and looked up to my Dad. He had a way of preaching that a small child could understand. He as new age in his preachings in that he would, at times, have a congregation participate.
During the middle years of my life, from ten to fourteen, my Dad was distant. He left the ministry to pursue a career as a lawyer. From this point on it seemed everything he did turned sour. It was as if God was punishing him. He was attending law school in a distant town so we only saw him on the weekends and that was rare. Once he passed the bar, he began practicing out of an office in our home. Divorces and civil suits were his forte until one day an estranged husband showed up at our house. My sister and I were home from school with the measles or some other childhood disease I can’t recall. He threatened us with a gun, upset that my Dad was representing his wife. This incident and a few others made my Dad realize that he did not have the stomach for this kind of law. He changed his field to suits, wills, and non-threatening cases. Unfortunately, his income level dropped as a result. My father has one major problem. The minister in him takes over at times. He won’t charge someone who really can’t afford it. The good samaritan is what he is known as.
My father has remained very active. He plays tennis, skis, and takes the grandchildren on long hikes which they love. About eight years ago he suffer a major heart attack that went unnoticed for a week. After my Dad had not played his normal game of tennis for a week straight, my mom called a doctor. My Dad is the type of man who does not miss his tennis. If he does, something is wrong. It took him six months to completely regain the use of his left side. During this time he remained very active. My mom likes to tell the story of a time he was standing on a ladder changing a light bulb. He leaned on his left side which gave out. She said she saw out of the corner of her eye Bruce (my Dad) flying through the air. Thank God he landed on a bolt of fabric.
My Dad also had business dealings that have gone bad. He purchased thirty acres just out side of town with the idea of building houses. He is a big dream man. Unfortunately, he did not take into account the fact that the neighbors would not want to have their quiet little neighborhood turned into a sub-division. Fifteen years later he is still fighting for the permits to build. He also built our family home at the top of a hill located on the property. This house has had nothing but problems. It leaks in the winter, is too expensive to keep heated, gets unbearably hot in the summer, and is falling apart little by little every year. I can remember helping my mom clean up one day and noticing that there was grass growing in the carpet. I asked is she wanted me to get the vacuum or the lawn mower.
Recently, tragedy struck again. He discovered during a regular check-up he had prostate cancer. It was detecting early enough. He is now going through chemotherapy and radiation treatments. He has had to put his tennis on hold for eight weeks, due to the fact he has a tube in his arm. It is attached to a bag that administers constant radiation which is carried in a fanny pack. He has a great sense of humor about it though.
I have not see my father since the third week in July. I am going to visit this weekend. Writing this has made me realize that my dad is a very important part of my life. He has always appeared to be in the background. I now realize he is leaving a great impression me as well as my children. I love you, Dad, with all my heart and soul. I thank you for all the love and underrstanding you have given me. You have always been there for me in the good and bad, even when you did not agree with what I was doing.
Thank you!
It is hard to describe my Dad without writing a novel. He has a led a complex life. Thinking about him makes me feel so somber yet feel so much love towards him. My dad has overcome obstacles that would break any normal person confidence.
y memories of my Dad when young bring on feelings of safety and happiness. He always spent time taking me hiking and teaching me to ski. He is a very tall man whose hair has gone from black to grey with time. I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t grey but childhood pictures show me that there was. He has a laugh that is well known in town. It is so loud and echoes. People know when he is in the vicinity.
My father was a minister, at the Federated Church in Placerville, California, before my birth until I was ten years old. Placerville is an old gold rush town full of history. The church is situated on a hill overlooking the town. It is an old wood building with a very warm feeling. I so admired and looked up to my Dad. He had a way of preaching that a small child could understand. He as new age in his preachings in that he would, at times, have a congregation participate.
During the middle years of my life, from ten to fourteen, my Dad was distant. He left the ministry to pursue a career as a lawyer. From this point on it seemed everything he did turned sour. It was as if God was punishing him. He was attending law school in a distant town so we only saw him on the weekends and that was rare. Once he passed the bar, he began practicing out of an office in our home. Divorces and civil suits were his forte until one day an estranged husband showed up at our house. My sister and I were home from school with the measles or some other childhood disease I can’t recall. He threatened us with a gun, upset that my Dad was representing his wife. This incident and a few others made my Dad realize that he did not have the stomach for this kind of law. He changed his field to suits, wills, and non-threatening cases. Unfortunately, his income level dropped as a result. My father has one major problem. The minister in him takes over at times. He won’t charge someone who really can’t afford it. The good samaritan is what he is known as.
My father has remained very active. He plays tennis, skis, and takes the grandchildren on long hikes which they love. About eight years ago he suffer a major heart attack that went unnoticed for a week. After my Dad had not played his normal game of tennis for a week straight, my mom called a doctor. My Dad is the type of man who does not miss his tennis. If he does, something is wrong. It took him six months to completely regain the use of his left side. During this time he remained very active. My mom likes to tell the story of a time he was standing on a ladder changing a light bulb. He leaned on his left side which gave out. She said she saw out of the corner of her eye Bruce (my Dad) flying through the air. Thank God he landed on a bolt of fabric.
My Dad also had business dealings that have gone bad. He purchased thirty acres just out side of town with the idea of building houses. He is a big dream man. Unfortunately, he did not take into account the fact that the neighbors would not want to have their quiet little neighborhood turned into a sub-division. Fifteen years later he is still fighting for the permits to build. He also built our family home at the top of a hill located on the property. This house has had nothing but problems. It leaks in the winter, is too expensive to keep heated, gets unbearably hot in the summer, and is falling apart little by little every year. I can remember helping my mom clean up one day and noticing that there was grass growing in the carpet. I asked is she wanted me to get the vacuum or the lawn mower.
Recently, tragedy struck again. He discovered during a regular check-up he had prostate cancer. It was detecting early enough. He is now going through chemotherapy and radiation treatments. He has had to put his tennis on hold for eight weeks, due to the fact he has a tube in his arm. It is attached to a bag that administers constant radiation which is carried in a fanny pack. He has a great sense of humor about it though.
I have not see my father since the third week in July. I am going to visit this weekend. Writing this has made me realize that my dad is a very important part of my life. He has always appeared to be in the background. I now realize he is leaving a great impression me as well as my children. I love you, Dad, with all my heart and soul. I thank you for all the love and underrstanding you have given me. You have always been there for me in the good and bad, even when you did not agree with what I was doing.
Thank you!
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