Joining the Church

As children we played in the streets in the winter time when the weather permitted. Our streets were lit by gas lamps and every evening the lamplighter came by with a pilot light on a long pole to light the lamps. It was always a daily or nightly ritual to follow the lamplighter to the end of the street and watch him light all the lamps along the way.

Around the street lamp we played our games. There was hopscotch, five stones (jacks), skipping (jump the rope), French skipping, I was very good at that. We bowled hoops, played diabolo, this was a game where the player held two sticks, one in each hand, and a three foot cord was attached to the sticks. A large spool made for this purpose was kept spinning on the cord by quickly moving the hands alternately up and down, then at the right moment was tossed into the air and caught on the cord and kept spinning. This took a lot of practice and skill but was a lot of fun.

On winter days it was dark by three or four o'clock in the afternoon and we played long and hard under the street lamps. It took a lot of calling sometimes from our parents to get us to go home. To get instant attention we often heard our parents call out, "If you don't come in now the Mormons will get you". I didn't know what or who "Mormons" were but I always hurried home when I heard it.

One late wintry afternoon while playing in the street I noticed two well-dressed gentlemen stop at our house. They talked with Mother briefly then left. At the supper table that evening I was startled to hear Mother tell Dad that two Mormon missionaries had called and left some tracts. Dad asked to see the tracts but Mother said she had thrown them into the fire, adding, "We don't want that rubbish in the house". Dad said the next time they call, tell them to come when I am home and please save the tracts. The next time the missionaries called, Dad was home for it was later in the evening. We were all called in from play and we sat around the table in the kitchen which was the warmest room in the house. We were invited to kneel around the table in prayer. I can still remember the sweet spirit that filled the room. My father had lots of questions to ask the missionaries, things that had been bothering him for a long time such as "Why weren't there prophets upon the earth today? What happened to babies who died unbaptised?" The last baby mother had had died a few weeks after it was born and Mother had neglected to have it christened so the Minister had refused to bury it in consecrated ground. He said its soul had gone to Hell. The missionaries answered all of Dad's questions to his satisfaction. They told us the story of Joseph Smith's first vision. We listened in wonder and even then I knew it was true. I think my father was instantly converted. He told me years later that he knew the truth of what the missionaries had told us before they left the house. I also learned later that Father's oldest sister, Jessie, his brother Albert and three half sisters had already joined the Church and they were responsible for sending the missionaries to our house.

It took Dad a little while to overcome the tobacco habit but in about two months he was baptized by Elder Lorin A. Little. It was a year and a half later before my mother could decide to be baptized or consent to our baptism.