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The Church and It's People

“Better do something about that roof, preacher.” The voice was that of Bill Richardson, tall and weather beaten. “Wish I could,” said the preacher. “Well, let’s get busy on it real soon. I’ll bring over my pound poles and we’ll put up a scaffold and get started.” With amazement the preacher watched him the next day as he unloaded what looked like telephone poles and single-handedly, he lifted and drove them into the ground, nailing a short board to the side of each one and then connecting them with longer boards. “There,” he said, “that’ll do it just fine.” The preacher’s brother-in-law was employed by Philip Carey Company of Perth Amboy and he arranged for the church to purchase “seconds” of the singles they manufactured at the rate of a penny a pound! That Saturday found the preacher’s wife carrying shingles on her shoulder up the ladder to supply Bill and the preacher as they put them over the old cedar shingles which had covered the church for years untold. This was the day that the preacher was introduced to “horse-feathers”…a beveled strip of cedar used to level wood shingle roofs when making an overlay of asbestos shingles. It was also the day that the preacher slid off the roof, only to be caught by the strong arm of Bill who said, “You can’t get out of work on this job that easy, pastor.”

“Something has to be done about this crowding, Pastor.” The voice came from one our Sunday school teachers, Dorothy Mayfield. Dorothy had come to us to try and work with the Negro children. She was 90% American Indian and 10% Negro. She had been a jazz singer and dancer in the days of Al Capone and working in one of his night-clubs until she was led to the Lord by someone in Chicago some years before. Now she lived on the other side of town and worked as a housekeeper for a widower, John Mayfield. John would bring Dorothy to church in one of his trucks (he had a trash collection business) and the kids seeing the name “Mayfield” on the side of the truck assumed that she was Mrs. Mayfield. She said, “I’ll put a stop to that.” When she went home that Sunday morning she told John that the kids had called her Mrs. Mayfield and said, “I refuse to live a lie. Either you will marry me or you will look for another housekeeper.” The preacher married them later that week, and the man who played jazz trombone on Basin Street in New Orleans in years gone by (before he got converted) began to make a life of music with the girl who sang for Al Capone in Chicago! My! “What a wonderful change in my life has been wrought since Jesus came into my heart!” Needless to say, all the kids loved her as if she had been their mother.

She was right! Something had to be done and so plans were made by the pastor to put an addition on the old church building. “Give me $300, and we’ll start building,” said the preacher to the men of the church…now numbering about ten. “You’ll never build a church for $300,” was the reply. But he kept hounding them for the $300 until they said, “Let’s get him out of our hair and prove how wrong he is,” and they took up a personal collection for the sum requested. The largest donor was a lawyer who said, “It is worth the money to see you fall flat on your face! “We’ll start digging this Saturday” was the confident statement of the man of God.

Unknown to any that day, God had sent a stranger into the congregation to worship. At the end of the service, he approached the pastor and asked if he could help. He said, “I’m a surveyor, waiting for a transfer to Hawaii to do some work for my oil company. I have my transit in the car, and if you don’t mind my working on Sunday, I’ll lay out the area for you to dig this afternoon.” The preacher gave him the plans for the foundation and when the preacher returned for the Sunday evening service, there were the stakes, properly marked and ready for the excavation.

The following Saturday, after securing the building permit, the pastor and his wife went to the church about seven in the morning. If they had expected to find a crew, ready, willing and able to dig, they were to be disappointed. After all, he had gotten the $300, hadn’t he? Now he wants us to work too? So the preacher and his wife began to dig. The ground was sandy soil and that was a God-send. After a short time, a tall, lean, stoop-shoulder man ambled down the road from the direction of Port Monmouth Road. He approached the pastor and inquired if he had permitted a woman to be digging. “Sure,” replied the preacher and with that the old man approached the preacher’s wife, tipped his hat and said, “May I?” She gave him the shovel and returned to the old Chevy for another. This happened three times that morning and at the close of the day, a trench had been dug for the foundation…No, not a church member was there, but the job was started and when Sunday came, the congregation was filled with awe to say the least!

Mr. Collins, of Collins Brothers, had agreed to send the concrete trucks over on Monday and to pour the concrete if we would have the “batter boards” ready. He would also charge “his cost only” for the services. As the Lord would have it, our surveyor friend was back in service for that last time that day and that afternoon he placed the “batter boards” so that the concrete could be poured. The cost of the footing concrete was $300! But they were started. About two weeks later, the surveyor left for Hawaii and they never heard from him again, but the Lord has the record of his efforts for God’s glory.

There was a gleam in the preacher’s eye that Sunday morning as he announced that he had made arrangements with Mahr’s mason supply of Matawan to supply the blocks for the foundation at cost and in addition extend us 30 days credit. They arrived promptly on Monday morning. About the same time, Cedric Henry, a mason stopped by inquiring as to “who was going to lay them blocks?” The preacher said that he didn’t know but that “the Lord hadn’t let us down so far and I guess it is His turn to do some work.” “I’m not working,” said the mason, “I’ll put the foundation blocks in for you for nothing if you’ll find me someone to mix the mud.”

Someone suggested Sam Larsen, and since the two men had worked together before, it proved to be an ideal arrangement. Sunday found some wide-eyed folks who gathered at the building site to marvel at what had been accomplished. That morning’s collection was not the result of a request for funds because it had been agreed that there would never be an emphasis on raising money, but on “being right with God.” But more than enough to pay for the blocks came in without a plea for funds. They ordered more. Now they had to make arrangements for the mason to get paid. At the rate of $25 per day, he laid the rest of the blocks and the following Sunday there were some more wide-eyes and praises to the Lord. Again, the funds came in to pay the bills. Talk about miracles!
 

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