November 23, 1986
Some humorous stories about the church way back when -
The Ladies Aid was making mincemeat in the church kitchen. I remember Mrs. Preston Oden, Mrs. Elizabeth Brownlee and Mrs. Charles Dunshee were there, and many others. They ran out of one ingredient and called the store to see if I could run down with it. I did, and here is what happened. I said to Mrs. Oden, “Where is the mouse?” She said, “What mouse?” I said I had read an old-time recipe where a string was tied to a mouse’s tail and it was put in the pot. After awhile it was pulled out by the string and hung up for another time. Mrs. Oden grabbed a pan and chased me up the stairs to the street. It was all a joke, but I do believe she would have whacked me had she caught me. She always seemed to have trouble getting around with ease, but not that day.
Tony Landgraf was our minister when this mouse story took place. He was preaching about Satan and that he might appear in many forms. Just then there was a disturbance in the choir. A mouse was running along the top of the choir rail. It would run a little, then sit up. In this fashion it moved across the rail and was gone. Reverend Landgraf turned back to his sermon, and pointed to the fact that Satan could appear in many forms and perhaps this was one of them. What could be a more fitting end to a sermon?
Dr. L. H. Oatman was a Chariton resident years ago. He was a watchmaker and optician. He told me one time that he preferred to be called an eye doctor. His home stood east of the Presbyterian Church were the new apartment house stands now. His life dream was to build a pipe organ. When he was seven or eight years of age, he had made up his mind. As he practiced on the old reed organ in his home, his dreams began to take shape. He needed an education and money. He left home at the age of sixteen to go to Dubuque to study watch making. He financed his studies by restoring reed organs. This work gave him a better understanding of the principles on which the pipe organ is built. In the great historic city of Dubuque he had many opportunities to hear the beautiful music of many pipe organs, and each time he was fired with renewed zeal.
He moved to this home in Chariton in 1923 with his wife and two daughters. The construction of his organ started at once. The blueprints had been finished for some time. No one thought he could do it, but he was determined even if his wife and daughters had doubts. As a young man I delivered his groceries to his home and each time I got to witness the progress. For a long time, it looked like the box of a farm wagon. I remember two keyboards were in evidence after a long period. These were from the old family reed organ and from another he had purchased.
As a boy, when I was in his home, and in later years when Ruth and myself were invited there, he always mentioned the fact that no one thought he could do it. Then he would swell up with pride and point to his love. He spent many of his leisure hours studying the pipe organ at the old Episcopal Church at the corner of Court and 8th Streets.
In the year 1928, Dr. Oatman experienced his greatest thrill. His daughters stepped to the organ and soft mellow tones came forth. It was not complete, but it demonstrated that he had succeeded in his work. With a special hook-up with the telephone company, Christmas anthems were broadcast, thus stilling the criticisms of all the doubters. I have no idea what happened to the organ in later years. I have heard several stories, but was never able to pin one down as the truth.
Sometime between 1929 and 1936, this partly humorous and partly serious event took place. Dr. Harliss was our synod executive. He was a fine man and very firm. Reverend Nichol and Dr. Harliss were friends of a sort, but always in disagreement. This particular Sunday Dr. Harliss was here to speak to us after Reverend Nichol would give a short sermon. Reverend Nichol spoke on and on and on until the town clock struck twelve. Reverend Nichol introduced Dr. Harliss, and not to be outdone, Dr. Harliss pronounced the benediction, ending the service. Mrs. Harliss was along, and she and Mrs. Nichol were the best of friends. Earlier the Harliss’ had been invited to the manse for dinner. During the meal, Dr. Harliss took sick and was put to bed. He could not be moved for three weeks. Stomach ulcers seemed to be the problem. I don’t remember whether the friendship was better after this story or not.
Years ago, a Presbyterian merchant had a pet bulldog. Every morning he put a nickel in the dog’s mouth and sent him to the butcher shop. The butcher would take the nickel and give the dog a chunk of bologna for his breakfast. One morning the dog wouldn’t eat the bologna, and a note was pinned to the dog’s collar explaining what had happened. That night after the merchant had gone to bed, he was pondering over the dog’s behavior when the good fairy appeared and explained it all. It seemed the bologna was made from one of the bulldog’s old girl friends! This article was not taken from one of the great literary magazines of the day, but was one of the great stories told in butcher shops.
George and myself left at 2 p.m. Sunday. Charles went to Des Moines to see another movie. Therefore, he was not along. We went southeast on a zigzag route to Lake Rathbun. We saw several deer, hawks and geese. Hundreds of geese flying low over picked fields. They were undoubtedly disturbed by the shots of hunters shooting other game. The countryside is a study of browns. Lakes are full, as well as streams. We went through Confidence, Melrose and Russell. Went on a tour of the Melrose Cemetery. You don’t see much from the road, but upon driving to the hilltop you’ll find a large well-kept cemetery. We saw a big stone with the name Erickson on it. We wondered what a good Swede was doing in that Irish community.
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