THE NEED OF RESCUE WORK
As early as the fall of 1909 we put out this call:
CENTRAL BUREAU OF LABOR
“The District of Columbia needs a Labor Bureau to which our Mission
and the Associated Charities can send men and women out of
employment. The Bureau, being a government affair, should know where
labor is needed and should furnish transportation to such places,
whether it be to the cotton fields of the South, the harvest fields
of the West, or the manufactories of New England.
“Such a Bureau should secure from the railroads concessions, such as
they give to immigrants, in sending our unemployed to the fields of
labor.
“Unless Society, with a big 'S,' reaches a hand to the unemployed
these people will surely become a menace to our great cities, and on
some sad day they will dynamite our public buildings.
“We, who work among them, know their sorrow, their anguish, their
despair, which will end in desperation, unless relief is furnished.
“Use your influence to secure a Central National Bureau of Labor for
the unemployed. The strong and wealthy can care for themselves, but
a good government should concern itself with its weaker members.”
_The Survey_ (published in New York) is now (1913) steadily advocating
something of this kind, and now Congress (October, 1913,) is considering
the matter.
FOR THE UNEMPLOYED
An organization or industrial army of the United States was provided for
in a bill presented to the Senate by Senator Poindexter, upon the
request of R. A. Dague, of Creston, Iowa. Eligible to membership in the
army would be any unemployed man more than sixteen years old. The
Secretary of Labor would be the recruiting officer, but an “industrial
general,” at a salary of $250 a month, would command the forces. The
army, according to the bill, would not bear side arms or fight bloody
battles, but would be employed in labor at harbors, forts, government
buildings, irrigation ditches, canals and other public works of the
nation, state and municipality. Residents in the United States who
become members would receive $2 a day, “together with board and
lodging,” while those who have been in America less than five years
would receive only $1.50. Foreigners who hereafter come to America would
receive only 25 cents a day, which would be wrong. We expect from the
United States government that ideal justice, even to a foreign workman,
which we shall each receive when we stand in the presence of Eternal
Justice.
All this shows that the idea of a Bureau of Labor which will help the
laborer is steadily growing.
AN INCIDENT OF THE WINTER OF 1910
One day Mrs. Kline, the wife of the Superintendent of the Gospel
Mission, phoned me, “We have a man here so covered with vermin that I
cannot let him into the house, yet he seems to be an educated man. [This
was at the Industrial Department on Fourteenth Street, before we had our
new building.] What shall I do now?” “Call Donavan, Hall and Happy, and
take him to the woodshed and have a tub of warm water; let the men give
him a thorough bath, barber him and wrap him in blankets, till we can
get clothes for him.” That was done. We found Taylor an educated man, a
graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, the editor of a paper in a
suburb of Philadelphia. He claimed that he had been “shanghaied,” that
is, drugged and carried on board an oyster boat as a common laborer. He
had gone to Baltimore to go on a drunk, hoping his friends would not
find him out, but his Nemesis was there waiting for him.
He had been kept six weeks on the oyster boat, had been forced to bunk
with negroes and common roustabouts. After he became sober, I fancy the
owners of the boat saw that they had captured the wrong man, and would
gladly have gotten rid of him. They did not dare approach land lest
their entire crew escape; at last he was put aboard a passing boat and
sent to Washington. He was over six feet high, of fine physique, about
thirty-two years of age. We did not find it easy to get clothing
suitable for such a person. The day came when he was able to attend the
services at the Mission. He kneeled at the altar, and we hoped he was
converted. We greatly wanted him to bring suit against the oyster men,
but that would have made his case public, and he did not desire that. He
readily secured a place on one of our city papers as the purveyor of
automobile news, but when pay day came he got drunk and fell down the
stairs and broke his arm. His system was in bad condition and he was
obliged to go to the free ward of Providence Hospital. We now wrote to
his family, and his mother came for him in a big touring car from
Philadelphia and took him home, but the exposure and dissipation had
done their perfect work, and he only lived a few months. He seemed, from
all accounts, a truly penitent man, but only at the judgment day shall
we know whether he entered into the rest prepared for the children of
God only.
Another experience in the winter of 1911 gave us a still lower opinion
of the oyster men of the lower Chesapeake Bay. Mr. Hall telephoned me,
one cold slippery day, “Do come down at once, the oyster men are in. Mr.
Kline is away, and the men are in bad condition.” I went at once. The
halls were full of them; many had only overalls, shirt and shoes without
stockings; they looked frozen. I ordered coffee and rolls at my expense
till I could call help. I feared if I opened the clothing room they
would raid it, so great were their needs.
It was too slippery for women to venture out, so I began phoning to
members of the Lutheran Church whom I believed would come. One man in a
bank said, “I am not a clerk. I can't go out this kind of weather for
that class of men.” I replied, “I saw you at communion last Sunday, and
I venture you promised your God to serve wherever you were needed; here
is your first call.” “I shall come at once and bring three other members
of the church with me.”
That winter the Luther Memorial Church, of Erie, Pa., had sent us a
large box of men's clothing, every article mended, clean and in good
condition, and just the week before a charitable organization, at Chevy
Chase, Md., had sent us two large barrels of men's clothing, and a full
half bushel of socks nicely darned and every article clean.
So we put trousers on one pile, coats on another, vests on another,
underclothes on another, a churchman at each pile. I had charge of the
socks, then Mr. Ifft, of the Luther Memorial Church, in the next room
superintended the trying on, fitting and exchanging garments. As we
handed each garment we said about this, “The ladies of the different
churches send you these garments with their love and sympathy.” Many a
poor fellow, all unused to blessing, said, “God bless the churches for
remembering such as us.” In an hour's time we clothed over seventy-five
men. A few did not need complete outfits. We never supposed we had that
many garments on hand, but that day cleared out all we had in reserve.
Among these men were two Welsh boys, both Christians, not long in this
country. They had not known the strength of American liquors (which were
doubtless drugged); they were very contrite and were at once put to
work, one as a furnaceman, the other in the wood yard. We hear the
United States revenue cutters have been after the oyster men and
shanghaiing is no longer a common crime.
When a friend looked in on that crowd of superior business men helping
distribute clothing and saying words of consolation to the broken men,
he said, “I believe in my soul you would order in the President of the
United States to help at the Gospel Mission.” “Oh, no!” I replied,
“President Taft, good man as he is, would not be permitted to drive so
much as a tack at the Gospel Mission. He does not recognize Jesus as His
Saviour; only orthodox Christians who can tell the sinner of the
redeeming power of Jesus the Christ can successfully work in a rescue
mission like this.”
THE HOLIDAYS
are a sore trial to the homeless or to the recently bereaved. Often
women of the highest social rank come to the Gospel Mission on
Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's, when we give a good dinner to
everyone who applies. (These women forget their own woes as they serve
others.) The subjoined newspaper letter will give you a good picture of
one such occasion:
THANKSGIVING DAY AT THE MISSION OF 1910
“It is a very curious thing to say, that while I saw no relative of
mine, being far separated from all of my kindred, while I had no time to
accept the hospitality of friends, but ate my dinner at my boarding
house, so as to be at the Mission for service, yet it was one of the
happiest days of my life. It is wonderful the kindness God puts into the
hearts of His people at this season. Not a member of the Mission has
wealth, yet God gave us means through His children to feed between three
and four hundred people. A little Ohio Joint Synod Lutheran church at
Fulton, Md., sent us a dozen chickens, two bushels of potatoes, some
fine apples, turnips, beets, cabbage, etc. We bought fifteen turkeys, a
lot of hams, then the New Willard Hotel prepared our fowls and other
meats, and the Raleigh Hotel prepared and cooked all our vegetables,
adding enormous pans of baked beans, and all this they did free of
charge.
“Bakers sent us bread and pies, florists sent us great quantities of
flowers, so that we were able to feed all comers and send out a number
of baskets to poor families. This was the bodily side; the spiritual
side was even better.
“The services began at twelve o'clock noon, and lasted until ten at
night, with a change of leaders, musicians and varying audiences each
hour.
“Two boys, about sixteen and eighteen years old, had walked all the way
from Richmond, Va. As they fed their famished bodies, one said, 'O Jim,
did you ever before hear of such a place where one can really get all he
wants to eat, can get a hot bath, can get one night's lodging all for
nothing? I am so tired I just couldn't walk any more!'
“One man, about thirty years of age, simply prostrated himself at the
altar, and cried aloud to God for pardon. After he rose he said about
this, 'I came from the workhouse this morning an angry, outraged man,
after thirty days' sentence. I felt my punishment was a great injustice.
My hand was against every man, for I felt every man's hand was against
me. I was ready for any crime. Someone met me and said, “Go to the
Gospel Mission.” I answered, 'I prefer to go to the saloon and get drunk
and forget for a few hours my sorrows and loneliness.' But the friend
brought me here. You have given me a good dinner, but that is the least,
you have reached the friendly hand. Brother Wheeler says I can make this
my headquarters till I get work. I am a skilled mechanic, and I can soon
get my place back again, and now I want to say God has forgiven me my
sins, and they are so black and so many. I was a Christian in my early
life, so I know what I am talking about when I promise my God and all
you, my friends, that, God helping me, I, this day, take Christ for my
Saviour and I will love and serve Him all the days of my life.' That of
itself paid me for all I could do.
“From three to five people came to the altar for prayer each hour, and
the last hour saw nine young men pleading for forgiveness, and promising
a new life. In all, I should say, that about fifty people asked for
prayers and twenty-five people sought pardon.
“We had a great singer, Mrs. Fitch, whose singing was greatly used of
God to call men to repentance. Thanksgiving Day was a great day on
earth, at the Gospel Mission, and a great day among the angels of heaven
who saw sinners redeemed.”
CHRISTMAS AT THE GOSPEL MISSION
of 1909 was described by the writer in the following sketch of the
January, 1910, _Gospel Tidings_:
“Christmas at a mission takes on a great element of thanksgiving; first
for the great gift of God—and no anthems sound so sweet, so deep,
reaching into the deep places of the soul as, 'Now, when Jesus was born
in Bethlehem.'
“The first thing on Christmas Day was to remember our brothers in bonds.
Down at the barracks in the guard-house, we have two converted men. One
a soldier whom we believe is receiving four times the punishment for
neglect of target practice which he ought to receive; we can only
counsel patience, comfort by our visits and send him a good dinner.
“Then a dear Jewish brother is there. He had been in the army two years
ago, but he was baited, tormented and outraged in his poetic soul until
he deserted. After that he was converted, and felt with us that he must
go back and take whatever the United States had for him. One of our
workers went with him to the Secretary of War, who said, 'Why, man,
don't come to me; take a carriage for fear you be arrested on the
street.' Mr. Ellison, our helper, took a carriage and went directly to
the Commandant at the barracks. The Commandant said, 'We are sorry for
Mr. L., but he will get two years in the penitentiary at hard labor.'
“Mr. Ellison said, 'Commander, this man is the servant of the living
God; you will give to this Jew that mercy you yourself will at the last
expect from the Judge of all the earth, who came to this world as a
Jew.' Well, it would be a long story to tell of the court-martial, but,
in answer to prayer, the Jew got only six months in the guard house, and
that time will expire this month.
“Then two poor workmen are in the hospital, and four sinners who
promised reformation in the workhouse, must have a remembrance. Kindness
in shame often leads men to Christ.
“But the great event of the day was the service from twelve to one
o'clock, followed by a dinner at which from two hundred to three hundred
lonely men were fed. In the evening a service, at which the old, old
story of love is told, heart-broken men are redeemed, and we all go home
wondering at the never-ending miracle of the gospel, which takes tongues
which blaspheme and makes them sing God's praises, feet that walk in the
ways of sin and makes them run in the ways of righteousness, hands that
steal and makes them do God's service. Oh, it is a wonderful gospel, and
a wonderful Saviour!
“'O ye priests of the Lord, bless ye the Lord, praise and exalt Him
above all forever. O ye servants of the Lord, bless ye the Lord, praise
and exalt Him above all forever. O ye spirits and souls of the
righteous, bless ye the Lord, praise and exalt Him above all forever. O
ye that are holy and humble of heart, bless ye the Lord, and praise and
exalt Him above all forever.'”
NEW YEAR'S EVE
And New Year's at a Rescue Mission is an interesting time. Men have
wandered the streets for a week, when it seemed to them every other
human being on earth was happy but themselves; they see happiness in
every passing face, they have caught glimpses of Christmas trees through
open doors, they have sensed the appetizing smells of good dinners, they
have witnessed at the railroad stations and even on the streets the
reunion of families, they have heard the deep-toned organs from
churches, they have heard the ragtime music of happy people about the
home piano, and they only unloved, unloving, uncomforted, lonely men
walk the lonely streets of our great cities.
Is it any wonder that memory calls up the time when they too were in
happy homes, when mothers' arms encircled them, when a father's
benediction was on their young heads, and, like the prodigal son, they
say, “I will arise and go to my Father”?
Every one of them knows that sin is the cause of his downfall, and they
also know that they must get right with God before they can forsake evil
habits. Scarcely one of them but what has tried again and again to leave
off their grosser sins but have failed, but when at the watch-night
service they are told of a Saviour mighty to save, hope comes again to
the broken-hearted.
I remember one occasion at the Breakfast Association, Philadelphia, at
the twilight service, New Year's Eve, I saw five hundred men stand for
prayer at one time. Our Mission is much smaller, but on New Year's Eve
and during New Year's Day, when we have a continuous service from 12
o'clock midday to 9.30 P.M., with an entire change of leaders and
musicians each hour, I have seen your nominal Christian, the toper, the
criminal, all so overcome by the convicting power of the Holy Spirit
that social differences melted away and they knelt side by side at the
mercy seat; we have seen fifty people enter into covenant relations with
God in that pivotal period of the year, and we have seen most of them
keep the faith.
Think of a church holding a meeting nine and a half hours long; in most
churches the pastor and the elders would have the last three hours or
more all alone. But at the Mission the interest deepens so that it is
hard to dismiss even at a late hour.
THE FORGER FROM NEW HAVEN
It was at one of those long services I saw a New England man brought
under deep conviction, and at last yield to the Spirit, make confession
and receive Christ.
It was about 4 P.M. when he arose to tell his story of sin. He said, “I
have committed a crime against the State, and I want to know if I can be
forgiven before that is made good. I want to see three members of the
Board alone.” Three of the men went into consultation with him. It
proved that he had forged a check at New Haven for $300, had collected
the money and had escaped.
He was told, “God will forgive you now and undertake for you in case you
promise full restitution.” He kneeled at the altar, began to pray out
loud, promised restitution and promised to bear patiently any punishment
the State demanded.
A worker was sent with him to New Haven. He went first to his own
father, who said, “John, I never want to see your face here; you had no
business to come back, for you will be sent to prison and disgrace us
all.” “But, father, I am converted, I mean to take my punishment, then
live a true man ever after.” “Oh! that is different; in that case, I
will help you all I can.”
They went at once to the man whose name had been forged. They found him
very bitter at first, but when John told his story of how ashamed and
sorry he was, and added, “I have come back to take my punishment, then I
want to be a good man and a good citizen all the rest of my life.” At
this point the father said, “Mr. Percy, I will gladly pay back the $300
and interest if you think you can forgive John.” That was done and the
prosecution withdrawn.
The episode had a little after-clap. John came back to Washington, and
came at once to the writer. He said, “Mrs. Monroe, I want you to ask
Miss Stanislaus if she will marry me.” “Why, ask her yourself, man; I am
not in practice in handling love matters.” “No, you see my red head and
freckled face and freckled hands make me so homely I am afraid to ask.
Do see her for me.” This I did. She accepted him, and he obtained a
situation in the mountains of North Carolina as a school teacher. He
preaches on Sunday and they both teach all week and seem to be doing
good work.
The _Gospel Tidings_, of December, 1910, had this notice:
WHAT WILL YOU DO, FELLOW-CHRISTIANS?
“Eleven men, cold, hungry and friendless, the night of December 5,
said, 'Mr. Kline, for God's sake, give us work!' He replied, 'We do
not have the work to give until we get wood-cutting machines.' Mrs.
Monroe said, 'I shall trust God's people to help me on that, even
though the horse and wagon are not yet paid for.' So she personally
took the risk of the 50 needed to put in the machinery. Her friends
will remember that a great fire three years ago not only destroyed
her property, but also her means of making money.
[Illustration: 10 AND 15 CENT DORMITORIES]
“'Blessed is he that considereth the poor, the Lord will deliver him
in the time of trouble.'
“The Gospel Mission Board feel that when the necessities of men are
so great as in this call that it is God's call to help by giving
them means to help themselves. Maybe in these suffering men your
Saviour passes by.”
The Christian people of Washington made a generous response to that
call, and by the next issue of the _Tidings_ we announced that we could
give fifty cents a day for six hours' work, leaving time to hunt a
better place, and yet pay lodgings and food.
The October _Tidings_ of 1910 said:
A MENACE
“What is the most important question now in Washington? From our
standpoint it is the care of the unfortunate and the sinful. Why? In
order to protect your home. When a man walks the streets hungry,
cold and friendless, and looks through the window of your happy home
and he sees you surrounded with the comforts he lacks, do you know
you are in danger? Unless the unfortunate are comforted, they will
surely dynamite our great cities.
“The Gospel Mission stands between you and this danger. We make
these sons of sorrow realize that they need be only temporarily
sidetracked from the great highway of success, that the grace of
God, their renewed will power and our friendly hand may yet restore
them to home, friends and society, and make them useful men.”