As most of your are aware, I was a preacher’s kid. A PK, if you will. Unfortunately I didn’t have enough forethought to know I was eventually going to be in a Write Your Life Story class where one should know more about his father’s work life.

I can only piece together part of Pop’s work life. With the encouragement of his mother, Pop decided to become a minister. He went to Grinnell College in Grinnell, Iowa. After graduation he went to the University of Chicago Theological Seminary.

Upon completion he was ordained at a little town in North Dakota. The name of the town is Glen Ullen. My mother was teaching school, also in North Dakota. Somehow, they met and were married.

I don’t know chronologically where he was at his first church. I know that it could have been at New Hampton, Iowa. At this town, Pop loaned his horse and buggy to a parishioner while he and Mom went to either a church convention or to the San Diego World’s Fair. On his return and the return of his horse and buggy he couldn’t go anyplace without his horse stopping in front of the local saloon. Pop was a vociferous opponent of wine, beer, booze, tobacco and even coffee was a no-no. Imagine his embarrassment. About that time the local newspaper put on a subscription drive. The person who got the most new subscriptions would drive a brand new Ford. With the help of all the ladies in the church, Mom won their first car. That was the Ford with the beautiful brass radiator shield.

I don’t know whether Pop had had time to untrain his horse before he got the car, but I do remember the story of his going through the back of his garage yelling at his Ford to, “Whoa!”

As I said, I don’t know, chronologically, where he was first in Iowa. His other church was in a tiny town of Sherrill Mound. There, he built a new church, a picture of which I enclose. This is a nice building which is still in service. There are two large stained glass windows one of which says, Donated by Rev. And Mrs. George Hein. The other says, Donated by Rev. And Mrs. Geo. Hein in the memory of Mom’s brother, Chris Keller, who had recently died. I wonder how a poor preacher could afford them.

As I said, I don’t know which was first. The only thing that makes me think the Sherrill Mound was the later was in 1980, my first wife and I took my older brother Lee, on a trip around the country. We stopped at the town and my brother remembered the school house he and his older brother, Ken, had gone to. It was then being used as a hay storage building. This established that they were at least of school age when they lived at Sherrill Mound. From the size of the town it would seem a demotion but maybe someone knew Pop would be a good builder. He had a knack for not asking whether someone would contribute, but rather how much they would contribute.

Subsequently, Pop moved on to Walla Walla, WA. This is where I joined the family. I was born in the St. Mary’s Hospital in Walla Walla.

Pop moved to two little towns in Colorado, Brush and Windsor. He didn’t stay long at either place as we moved to Seattle when I was less than two and a half year’s old.

At some time the family had attended the Alaska Pacific World’s Fair and Pop decided that Seattle would be a great place to live.

Consequently, when Reverend Detmers retired from the Seattle German Congregational Church, Pop applied for and was retained for the position.

He spent thirty five years as their minister, most of them happy. I remember one year he took on as an extra a small church at Suquamish, WA. Suquamish was the home of Chief Sealth, for whom Seattle was named. The Seattle and Suquamish churches held a joint church picnic at Suquamish. The local people had arranged for an Indian man to prepare clams and salmon for the main courses.

First he built a fire in the sand with a circle of rocks. When the rocks were hot he lined the hole with seaweed and then put in a bag of clams. Soon they were cooked and we had our first course of clams. Man, oh man, were they good!

He then wrapped two large salmon in seaweed and lined them in the hole, covered them with sand which he had also done with the clams. After a while the salmon was ready and we had a royal feast of probably the best salmon I’ve ever eaten in my life. We enjoyed that along with the usual potato salad and other picnic items.

I also remember the church dinner that Pop arranged. He would hit up Charlie Frye who had the largest meat packing plant in Seattle. Charlie would contribute two large hams. Pop would then take them to the Pioneer Bakery where the Marbets, the owners would cover them in rye dough and bake them in their authentic brick ovens. You’ve never had ham until you have it prepared in this manner. The rye bread on the outside was as delicious as the ham.

Everything went along well for thirty five years. Then Mom and Pop went to a church convention somewhere in the middle west. On their return they were asked to come to a church meeting. The purpose of the meeting was to tell Pop that they had hired a new minister and he and Mom were to be out of the parsonage in about a month.

This was right at the time that ministers were made eligible for Social Security and it would only require six months of employment. Mom, who worked at the Bon Marche offered to pay his wages if he could be an assistant pastor. No, you have to be gone.

The man whom they had hired was a Rev. Meers who had been a minister for some time at a little church in Missoula, Montana. Since they were now without a minister, Pop went to Missoula ostensibly just to qualify for Social Security. When he got there, he found that they were meeting in a store front. Rev. Meers had been trying for ten years, unsuccessfully, to build a church. Inside of two years Pop had pushed the people into building a nice little frame building. Maybe that was the program as set by the Man Upstairs.

Pop then retired and came out to live in the first house I had built. It was just four doors from the house my family and I lived in.

Soon after, his driving became very poor and when he almost drove me off the road I was forced to take away his car keys.

He was a great walker and being a little bit fuzzy, Mom pinned a note to the back of his jacked with a phone number and address. Some very nice people either called or brought him home. One time I picked him up at least five miles from home.

One morning, as my wife and I were about to leave for work, Mom called and said Pop had been gone for a long time and she hadn’t heard anything. As I drove past their house, I saw what appeared to be a pile of clothing in their front yard.

It was Pop. Not being very bright, I picked him up and carried him in and put him in bed. The only injury I could see was a very small wound on his forehead.

We called an ambulance and had him taken to Northwest Hospital. He stayed there for a couple weeks and then was transferred to a rest home where he lived for several more months. He was ninety one and a half years old when he passed away.