One Man's Calling : One Man's Calling, Ch 44 by Wayne Fowler |
In the last part Ben connected an alcoholic pastor with his friend, the drunk in what began an AA club. Henry Halleck awarded Ben funds from Juana’s will. ^^^^^^^^^ “You’ll be coming with us.” Two policemen came to Ben from behind, grabbing him by the arms as he finished one of his short street sermons. “No, sirs,” Ben said. “I’m heaven bound, myself. And I can’t say that I’m not anxious to return.” The officers had Ben around a corner, quickly out of sight of the crowd that had gathered to hear Ben’s words. “There’s a man at The Ram would like to see you. I think you’ve made his acquaintance,” one of the policemen said. The other, not to be denied a leading role said, “It’s only a few blocks. You can walk smartly, or it’s over me shoulder like so much potatoes. Hah!” “I’ve thought a bullet in the back of the head a far more favorable way to see my savior, but the Lord’s disciples suffered horribly, so who am I to quibble over petty details?” “You’ll be wishing, ahg…” The policeman to Ben’s left suddenly dropped as might his sack of potatoes. Ben’s left hand freed, he swung a roundhouse to the officer on his right, intending to break his nose. Instead, Ben felt teeth break along with what might be one of his knuckles. He also felt pain in his forearm. When that officer fell, the white hat escort’s ax handle continued its downward momentum, clipping Ben’s follow-through.” “Sorry about that, Mate," the white hat escort friend said. "Shall we be off before someone gets it in their head that civilians shouldn’t be knocking out police officers?” They left at a run, ultimately headed for a doctor that could look at Ben’s injuries. +++ Ben’s arm in a sling and his hand in a cast, his next project was decent living quarters. The white hat escort of the moment recommended someplace off the beaten path, the price of anything suitably safe being too high within the city. Ben found exactly what he needed, a bit more than he required, actually, on the corner of Haight and Ashbury streets, a full one-bedroom apartment over a piano and voice teaching studio for $25 a month. Ben choked, but with Juana’s (as well as Henry’s generosity…), it was doable. The teacher’s father owned the building. When Ben went to the bank for a withdrawal, he stopped in to visit Henry. “Henry, is there a venue, an opera room, or I don’t know, a large meeting room in San Francisco? What’s the largest there is that rents out the space?” Henry grinned. “Thinking of enlarging your street corner, are you?” Ben laughed. “Oh no. Not for me. I’m thinking of arranging a city revival, maybe call it an awakening.” Henry almost frowned, but didn’t. “Margaret!” Henry called to his secretary. When she appeared, Henry asked her to note all the larger venues that might rent their facilities, both indoor and outdoor, along with any available contact information. The next day Ben used his white hat escort to help him plot the venues on a map for the most efficient travel route between them. Ben also asked him how he might meet with Clyde. It was two days later that Clyde wore the white hat. “Clyde, the man I wanted to speak with.” “So I heard, Ben. Also heard you had another incident with our nearly shanghaied friend.” “I did. And glad, too. We’re going to have an alcoholics group of some sort in San Francisco. Where men with the problem can help one another beat it.” Clyde made a face, his eyes popping wide as he tipped his head sideways nodding. “Might work for some, might.” “Gonna try to get a Salvation Army chapter, too.” “Ar-my?” Ben described it to him, receiving another wide-eyed nod. “What I wanted to talk to you about, to ask you really, was about city politics. Do you have anyone running against the mayor?” “Well first, it’s not me. But I know what you mean. I’ve heard a few names, but doubt seriously if they could win. And even if they did, that they’d have the cajo… what it would take to clean things up, cut out the corruption.” “What about Henry Halleck?” “Halleck? He interested?” When Ben didn’t respond, Clyde continued. “He’s solid. Got a good reputation. Fearless in court. He’s got standing, too. Been here near his whole life. And no doubt knows people, could appoint sturdy people.” Clyde pondered a moment. “Let me float his name about, get someone influential to have a talk with him.” Ben nodded. Two days later he had a fair notion of how an Awakening series of services could work. At his first opportunity he took pen to paper, though he had to purchase both. Dwight L. Moody, Chicago, Illinois Dearest Bro. Moody, Please don’t think me presumptuous to write unbidden, but I have an engagement proposal. I also pray that you will receive this as bona fide despite no letterhead of officiousness. First though, I trust and pray that this finds you well and your ministry flourishing in Christ Jesus. I regret that during my brief stay in your fair city I failed to make your acquaintance. I’m afraid that the nature of my ministry there was of a slightly different social setting. I am now called to San Francisco, a virtual pioneer city. There are hints of modernity, but as of yet, shall I say, kerosene is king. The population of San Francisco is around only 300,000 and seemingly growing daily. There are sanctuary seats for about one in twenty, tightly scrunched together. The rest are fair heathen, some worse, nay, many worse than others. An awakening is needed. As such, God has led me to inquire as to whether you would have 1) the desire, or calling, to undertake such a mission, and 2) whether you would have a couple weeks in your schedule, which I am sure is stretched. I have no doubt, Sir, that should these points be satisfied, God will resolve any remaining issues. One thing further – should you be positively inclined, there is a man called to preach evangelistically. He has travel experience, though God can work through anyone with or without such. His name is Billy Sunday and plays outfield for the Chicago White Stockings, or at least he did last I was about. His heart is right, I can attest, though I understand you have yet to attest for my own. Also, Billy Sunday could immeasurably benefit by your guidance. In Jesus’ love, your humble servant, Ben Persons Ben read through it and decided not to second guess, trusting that the Holy Spirit gave him the necessary inspiration. Ben also took the time to write his friend, Tony Bertelli. Ben spent the next several days working with the Presbyterian pastor and Joshua, as well as another man that the pastor knew about. Ben also engaged with the United Methodist pastor who would coordinate with the Chicago Methodist pastor about the Salvation Army. And following up on something Henry Halleck mentioned as an aside one day. Ben had heard of the Y.M.C.A. while in bible college in St. Louis, but hadn’t given it a thought until Henry’s comment. Ben wrote the dean of his college inquiring of a chapter for San Francisco, trusting that with God’s help, he could get it done. It was almost, but not quite two weeks later that a letter awaited him under his door at his Haight-Ashbury apartment, a missive from D.L. Moody. Dearest Brother Ben Persons, You needn’t have apologized. I immediately knew of you. God, Himself, has endorsed you and your ministry. I am the one in need of forgiveness. I heard you preach on the corner of Roosevelt and Wabash. I placed a quarter in your up-turned hat. I have apologized to God already. Here I apologize to you. I should have emptied my pockets. My intent was to introduce myself, but you immediately lit into another sermon, obviously desirous that every passer-by hears something of the saving grace of our dear savior. Then it came upon me that it was you who was doing God’s will in that moment and not I, and that I was to simply move on and allow God’s hand free reign. Not that only, was it that I heard of you. Your reputation among the clergy had gotten about. Rumor of your exploits with regards to certain, shall I say, redeemed women, were not mere rumor to my ears. And then the untimely demise of a certain tool of the evil one immediately followed by your own disappearance, well, sir. God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform. As to your specifics: 1) I have the desire, and sense the calling. And 2) All of October is suspiciously open. Please telegram me the date of the first appointment with sufficient travel time between for me to arrive a day or two before. And as to Bro. Billy Sunday, he has been sold to the Pittsburgh Alleghenies. But fear not his season will be quite finished by October. We shall see what God has in store. Now, as to remuneration and expenses: Suppose we allow God to handle the petty things as well as things eternal. Your Brother in Christ, anxiously awaiting your reply D.L. Moody
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Wayne Fowler
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