I mainly want to leave a record for posterity of when the gospel (the truth) came to Manitoulin Island and when my (our) grandparents professed, because they were the beginning of the truth for us. I’ve been thinking about this for some time because I feel you should know about this. We who are professing, to us this precious truth is the most important possession we have, or at least it should be, and therefore we should know when and how our family found it. Jesus said it was like a treasure hid in a field, which when a man finds it, he sells everything he owns and buys the treasure and the field. Matt. 13:44. Someone once said that we should never put a price on truth, because once we do that, someone will pay that price and buy it. So for future generations, I’m going to record this valuable information here as I heard it from my grandparents, Grandpa and Grandma Beck, and some others.
Two servants of God came to the town of Gore Bay in January of 1913 and from there walked out to a small United Church building, a white frame building across the corner from where Lloyd Noble had his store, and had gospel meetings there. 1 think I should mention and explain at this point that getting from the mainland, likely Blind River to Gore Bay, was no small task in those days! It was necessary to cross the North Channel by team and sleigh on the ice, a distance of about 30 miles, and then from there (Little Current) more than likely by horse and sleigh to Gore Bay, a distance of 50 miles! The names of these ministers of the gospel were Crawford Crooke and Dick Watchorn. One of the great wonders of the sowing of the seed of the gospel is that God knows the whereabouts of every good and honest heart and will find and make a way for the servants, the sowers of the seed, to find it; my grandparents (George and Martha Beck) and a few others were among them, and we (their descendants) can be thankful for them.
Grandpa and Grandma Beck lived on a small farm just down the road from our old farm (known as the Joe Wilson farm) and went to the meetings every night (which in those days was every night except Saturday). I think there were five who professed in that mission: Mrs [Mary Ann] Brockelbank [1879-1962, wife of Edward Brockelbank (1868-1925)], Mrs. Morell and a young daughter El Harper (nee Morell), and our grandparents. I believe El Harper is still living (around 90 now), still keeping true. The others have gone home and all kept true and faithful. Mrs. Morell was Harry and Roy’s mother, also Burl and the others.
As usually happens, when some professed [the workers] were put out of the church building and finished the mission in my grandparents’ home. Grandpa used to tell me about how it happened. He had thought of asking Grandma about the workers staying with them and also to have meetings there. He had waited until one morning at breakfast. He said “Martha, I have waited a few days to ask you this. I just wondered what you would think about asking the two ministers to come and stay here and have meetings.” (They had not yet professed). He said Grandma just smiled, got up from her chair, kissed him, and said, “George, I thought you would never ask!” It was settled there and then.
Grandpa loved to talk about those days and of the workers helping him cut wood and logs and they talked and talked and talked. The Sunday meeting was in their home until they moved to Wyoming. Some years later George and Maggie Walker (husband and wife) were having meetings nearby and Mother professed. This was shortly after we moved to the old farm. I remember coming downstairs for a drink of water and 1 found Mother sitting on Dad’s knee in an old wooden rocking chair where he always sat in the kitchen. She was crying and Dad looked so serious. I sensed as a child does that their conversation was much more serious than an everyday conversation, and thought about it many times. I worried about it many times because I think a child in his or her own way does sense that something unusual has happened and unknowingly worries in our own childish way that something may disturb the love and security of our home life. But the change in Mother’s life and style never did change our home, and although I’m sorry to say Dad never did make this decision himself, he never to my knowledge tried to put a stumbling block in the way of my Mother. It was about 8 miles to the Sunday mtg and she in the early days went with the horse and buggy. She didn’t go every Sunday, as it was a two-hour drive, but when she did, Dad would always get the horse ready on the buggy and bring it to the house and then put them away when she arrived home. My grandparents on Dad’s side of the house, John and Mary Jane Witty, were very opposed to Mother’s choice, particularly Mary Jane, who was a strong Presbyterian and despised anyone and everyone in the truth and did everything she could to make it hard for Mother, but Dad always stood by Mother and defended her. I always admired him for that and so did many others.
In those days, driving a horse was considered a man’s job and one very seldom saw a woman doing this man’s work, and I remember watching Mother drive the horse and buggy and I went with her most days, also Roy and Murray, my brothers. As soon as I was old enough, around 10, I was helping with the farm work and I was good with the horses and learned to work with them and harness them. I used to stand on the manger and a stool to do this. As soon as I could, I was harnessing and driving Mother to meeting, which was 10 miles, not far from where Willard and Bess live, near the sand pit where Willard tests the rifles before deer season opens. We met in the home of Wesley and Mrs. Benedict with a few others, including Albert and Winnie Campbell (Vera’s grandparents) and others. It was a small log house, and I can see the small living room and those there as plain as if it was yesterday. In the winter, we tied the horses outside and covered them with horse blankets to keep them warm. We left home at about 8.00 a.m. to make it in time for the meeting with a few minutes to spare, and got home between 2:30 and 3.00 in the afternoon, so you can understand why we only made it once or twice a month. I think Mother tried to get there at least every second Sunday if at all possible. I have tried to find some trace of that old house, but only a small mound remains. It is precious to me, because it was there, Sunday after Sunday, that impressions were made which would help to mold and direct my life in the years ahead, and today I’m so thankful for this.
I professed at Special Meetings in the fall of 1934. In those days, there were 3 meetings, with a gospel meeting in the evening. Tom Watterson, Horace Cullwick, and Davey McFetridge were the brother workers. 1 can only remember Lizzie White and Lena Watterson, (no relation to Tom) and when they tested the mtg I stood up. I was 17. I was in a state of shock and I remember the tears flowing, and Mabel Harper, who had been professing a few years, put her arm around me and said, “Never mind, Les, we are with you.” I never read Psalm 20:2 without thinking of this, because there are really only two sources of help for us to continue in the way: one, the sanctuary where we meet with God, and the other, Zion, the place where God’s people dwell. “Send thee help from the sanctuary and strengthen thee out of Zion.” This was my first experience of receiving strength from my brothers and sisters in Zion and it has happened again and again through the years in this precious and wonderful family of God, where I have had so many blessings and an abundance of good things, of which I am so unworthy. In the New Year, Horace and Davey had gospel meetings at Jack and Vi Campbell’s, just down from Willard’s on the corner. I walked from the farm about 10 miles 2 or 3 days each week about 3½ hours each way…seems like a lot of walking now, but I was young and that hour spent listening to the gospel was so precious that it seemed like nothing!
Truth Archive 