that the financial drives became a crusade, an adventure in human
relationships. He took off his coat, so to speak, and plunged into the
drives as one of the solicitors. The calls assigned him were the general
run as well as the difficult cases. He canvassed people of modest means
whom he didn't know as well as the large donors. As the calling was done
by two men soliciting together, he often found himself teamed with a man
whose occupation contrasted sharply with his own, once being paired with
a distiller! In the personal interviews his was not the milk and honey
approach, and he often became quite indignant if some did not give
according to their means. On one occasion he called with Mr. William J.
Shroder on a man who headed a large corporation but who refused to give
commensurately, using as an excuse the fact that the directors were
away. Mr. Nelson's feelings blazed forth and he blurted out, "You run
this corporation, and you can do as you please," and with that he strode
out of the room leaving his calmer friend to secure a gift of $500.00.
Sham irritated him beyond measure. Again, at headquarters one day
Maurice Pollak was holding forth in vivid language on the subject of
people who refused to contribute, and he did not notice Mr. Nelson
coming in behind him. When he suddenly stopped in some embarrassment,
Mr. Nelson exclaimed, "Go ahead, Maurice, you are saying just what I
feel but can't express so well." As he was a man of intense fervor, it
is probable that he was better at interpreting the inner significance of
the cause than in soliciting contributions. In 1922 he was elected the
General Chairman of the drive, and from 1916 to 1939 was a director of
the Chest.
As the years went by, Mr. Nelson became something of an "institution" in
Cincinnati, and his popularity made him "fashionable" to the
superficial-minded. Yet there was something decidedly spontaneous in the
acclaim with which he was once greeted by over one thousand canvassers
at a campaign dinner in the suburban city of Norwood. To a man the great
audience rose when he stood to speak, and applauded with genuine emotion
this Christian minister who represented Cincinnati as they wanted it to
be. Always sensitive to the reactions of a throng, he poured forth such
utterance as made them see the Community Chest as a great moral force,
not as just a financial campaign. Their consciences were quickened by
his graphic portrayal of their desires for righteousness and decency and
fair opportunity.
He was always one of the speakers held in reserve for the crucial last
days of the campaigns, and at the large daily luncheons held in the
Hotel Gibson for the canvassers he was at his best. The following
sentences from a newspaper report of one such address are typical:
You know what this Community Chest has done for this great city,
how it has been, as the old seer said long ago, the river of
life, flowing through the streets of the city, keeping it clean,
refreshing it, strengthening it, heartening it, so that the tree
of life, bearing all manner of fruits, through all the year,
could grow upon its brink and spread forth its branches to
shelter and give new vigor and hope to the inhabitants of the
city. That river of life which we call social service is more
vital, more important and more needed for the steady maintenance
of the morale, well-being, and good life of the whole community
than the Ohio River is, believe me.
By the power of simple, forceful speech, strengthened by his great love
for people and his belief in them, he enabled Cincinnati to see beyond
the horizon, to dream dreams; and by his uncommon labor some of these
dreams became actualities. He looked at the city's welfare from the
religious viewpoint, and in so doing commended religion to the
religiously indifferent. He saw the practical value of spiritual things
and the spiritual value of practical things. When, for example, he
addressed the National Conference for Social Workers at Denver in 1925
and propounded the theme of Immortality, the audience was at first
aghast, and then enthralled. He maintained that they had nothing to work
for unless it was for eternity; that their business was concerned with
souls, and that the souls of the feeble-minded were as much heirs of
immortality as those of others more fortunate, and that no man has the
right to condemn or stand in judgment. It was a bold speech to such an
audience, and held their rapt attention; it was perhaps the more
stimulating because it had been preceded by the scholarly and very
formal address of the president of the conference. It was this occasion
that produced a choice story which Mr. Nelson loved to tell on himself.
At the close of the long evening two men were overheard commenting on
the speeches. One of them remarked, "The first man was over my head, and
the second just plumb crazy."
He not only made the Community Chest common ground for all, but he also
enabled the churches to see it as their work, calling the social service
organizations "sub-committees of the Church, doing for the churches the
work that the churches want done and would have to do themselves if it
were not for the Chest."
Frank Nelson's influence on the civic and political life of Cincinnati
cannot be measured, but its power was evident and was revealed time and
again through the contacts he had with civic leaders. A Roman Catholic
priest said that many politicians went secretly to Mr. Nelson before
expressing themselves on certain civic matters or endorsing certain
projects. If some considered him officious, they could not have known
his humility, much less his consuming passion for human beings. When he
addressed public gatherings, one could gauge his power by watching the
audience; as the sincerity of the man made his words convincing, even
cynical faces "broke up," and the light shed by his stirring eloquence
often brought tears.
Among the many tributes paid at the time of Mr. Nelson's death, was one
given by the Reverend Jesse Halsey, the beloved former minister of the
Seventh Presbyterian Church, who culled the phrase "An Unmitered
Bishop," a title which is signally descriptive of the man by reason of
the many civic causes to which he was spiritual advisor, and thus a
father-in-God to diverse groups scattered over the seven hills and in
the "bottoms." He actively furthered many humanitarian causes: the
Juvenile Protective Association, the Anti-Tuberculosis League, the
Branch Hospital, the Community Chest, the Council of Social Agencies,
the Helen S. Trounstine Foundation, the Hospital Social Service, St.
Michael's Convalescent Home, and many others. Now that he is gone, the
long list of social enterprises ceases to be a mere string of activities
and becomes a roll of drums.[11] His whole life seems to exemplify the
words of the philosopher Bacon: "The nobler a soul is, the more objects
of compassion it hath." His spirit breathed out upon men, and in his
lifetime the city felt its beauty and greatness, drawing from his
constancy the courage to endure. He protested impatiently against the
nonsense often bandied about concerning the alleged immorality of city
folk compared with country folk, and cited confuting evidence out of his
pastoral experience to prove his conviction saying, "Heroes of these
days are the poor people who live in our big cities."
One of the heroines of Cincinnati, though not one of the poor, was Helen
S. Trounstine, a remarkable young woman of Jewish faith, who was
responsible for making Mr. Nelson the first president of the Juvenile
Protective Association. She was a pioneer in social service work, but
her career was tragically cut short when she died at the early age of
twenty-six. At her memorial service held in Christ Church Parish House
January 21, 1917, Mr. Nelson made the principal address and some of his
words indirectly reveal much of himself:
I remember the organization of the Juvenile Protective
Association; I first met her then. I had never known her before
and I said to myself: "Here is another person with an enthusiasm
come to complicate my life." I tried to get out of it, but
because I wanted to help little children (I built this parish
house for the young people, making my people support it for their
sake), and she knew it, with infinite patience and constant humor
and courtesy she kept forcing me, until gradually she landed me
in the Presidency of the Juvenile Protective Association, utterly
ignorant of what I was to do or what was to be done. And with the
same humor and patience she went ahead and did the work and made
me and the board responsible for it--made us stand behind her,
until at last we were ashamed that our consciences were so dull
and poor that we had not seen it long ago. And then we set out to
do something.
According to the opinion of Miss Edith Campbell, who was thoroughly
acquainted with his social work, though not a member of Christ Church,
Frank Nelson's "doing" resulted in legislation for the Court of Domestic
Relations which was to be in the future a real guardian for unfortunate
children. His relationship with the Juvenile Protective Association is
but another instance of the ways in which he not only ministered to the
city and awoke its conscience, but also helped to foster understanding
between church people and social workers. Possibly in no other city are
there such close ties between churches and social agencies, and this
relationship was Frank Nelson's achievement. He often attended the
social workers' meetings of the Monday Evening Club; the conference of
Charities and Philanthropies found a welcome center in his parish house.
Thus he wove a pattern for social service that came to fruition in
municipal and state laws, the kind of laws which give such work
permanence and effectiveness.
Frank Nelson was a chivalrous individual who labored for what he thought
was right; he championed numerous causes when many people were
marshalled on the other side. It is in keeping with his character that
he took a pronounced part in the creation of understanding and the
removal of prejudices among Protestants, Catholics, and Jews. Years
before the National Conference of Jews and Christians was organized, he
practiced the principles of the inter-faith movement. At one time after
presiding at a mass meeting in Music Hall held to protest the
persecution of Jewish people in Europe, he wrote his friend, Dr. J.
Louis Ransohoff: "I realize how dreadfully you must feel, and I would
like to tell you that no matter how badly you feel as a Jew, I feel
worse as a Christian because in the beginning Jews were persecuted in
the name of Christ." On more than one occasion he preached in the Isaac
M. Wise synagogue for his friend, Rabbi James G. Heller. In one such
instance he spoke on his concept of the spiritual life, considering the
great thing in man to be his soul, and pointing out that the journey is
superior to the road in the realization of man's destiny. His candor won
him the respect and admiration of many in all faiths, for they knew that
he honored their opinions. No more dramatic incident illustrates his
spirit than the one occurring in the inter-faith meeting at the Rockdale
Temple Annex when he confessed his faith. Dr. Heller says there had been
a great palaver of generalities by the two preceding speakers, and Mr.
Nelson commenced his address by bluntly asking the audience if they
wanted him to speak as he saw the truth, and they roared back, "Yes!"
Thereupon he launched forth with the ringing declaration, "Let us be
honest! I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ!" He then proceeded to say
that he would like all Jews to become Christians just as he knew the
Jews and Roman Catholics desired universal allegiance to their faiths.
With one or two exceptions, not a soul in that great audience resented
his frankness. His ministry was that of one who lived day by day a life
of good-will rather than of one who merely talked about it.
Some men considered that he reflected too much surprise at the degree
of harmony already existing among the faiths, and that his expressions
of pleasure at finding such unanimity thus raised doubts as to its
reality. However, in his broad spirit and totally Christ-fashioned
personality, he himself was at home with men of all faiths. In 1939, Mr.
William J. Shroder, as Chairman of the Community Chest campaign, chose
for the year's theme or slogan "The Unity of Religion and Democracy." So
excellent a "sermon" did he preach on numerous occasions that Mr. Nelson
jestingly told his friend that he must stay out of his parish!
On the rare occasions when Jews change their religion, they usually do
so because of marriage. One such instance is of special interest. The
daughter of a leading Jewish citizen married a Gentile, and since her
rabbi would not perform the ceremony they turned to Frank Nelson,
admiring as they did his faith and works. In a large sense he was rabbi
and minister to all sorts and conditions of people. Dean Friedlander of
the University Medical School, as he lay dying, said to a friend, "I
have told my students how to treat the dying, but it is different when
it comes to yourself. Frank Nelson has given me a hand." Again, another
friend in his trouble found such sane religious counsel that, although a
devout member of his synagogue, he declared, "It took a Christian
minister to bring out my soul." He never hesitated to disagree or argue
with his best friends, always maintaining that "works without faith" are
not sufficient. Thus all who knew him welcomed him, and in their need
turned to him with affection, confident of his understanding.
Mr. Nelson was one of the three founders of the Council of Protestant
Churches. No small detail was above him, and with Jesse Halsey he
rummaged through second-hand stores for furniture for the first office.
With the ministers of other churches he worked in closest cooperation,
and together they fought the Cox Gang, supported the Social Agencies,
and many other activities to which the civic-minded and church-minded in
Cincinnati gave unstintingly of their devotion. The Reverend John F.
Herget, the distinguished former minister of another downtown church,
the Ninth Street Baptist, says, "For twenty-five years we labored
together and the passing years only added to my confidence in his
intellectual and spiritual integrity. He was a real friend, and when my
only son died, he was the first minister in Cincinnati to step through
my doorway. I can never forget it. Do you wonder that I loved him and
cherish his memory? We were very different in many ways but those
differences never deprived us of mutual respect and deep affection."
Without a doubt, ministers of all Protestant churches regarded him as
the foremost clergyman in the city.
In 1901 Mr. Nelson was elected to membership in the Clergy Club of
Cincinnati, an organization which is composed of many of the leading
Protestant ministers. On the occasion of the club's twenty-fifth
anniversary in 1919, Dr. Dwight M. Pratt, then of the Walnut Hills
Congregational Church, wrote a witty and apt characterization of each
member. The following is his superb sketch of Mr. Nelson:
NELSON: The Apollo of the Club, equally recognized as such
whether in ecclesiastical robes and millinery or in outing
negligee; the physical having its counterpart in athletic
qualities of mind and heart; a broad-minded, tolerant Churchman,
incapable of surrendering to the artificial in form and ceremony
or to the pretentious in self-constituted human authority, even
when sanctified by tradition and usage, and aware of its historic
affinities to Rome. Fundamentally spiritual in his conceptions of
the Church and of the Kingdom; quickly alert to elements in
religion that are born of the flesh and vitiated by human pride;
unsurpassed in the Club for his exalted conception of historic
Christianity and of the glory and prestige of a spirit-filled and
spirit-guided church, having a vision of church unity impossible
of realization under the assumption and the exclusiveness of
Episcopacy; a genial democrat in spite of aristocratic training
and environment; intimately acquainted with the trend and quality
of modern critical scholarship, and in sympathetic touch with the
social movements of the day, in the church and outside of it; too
thorough and vital, however, to make the mistake, more common in
his church than any other, of substituting social Christianity
for evangelistic, thus making the care, culture and comfort of
the outer man more important than his spiritual redemption; a
student of men and books; an observant traveller, a recent and
scholarly resident of the ancient metropolis of the world:[12] a
keen interpreter of the movements of history, ancient and modern;
endowed as a preacher with homiletic skill and the spiritual art
of making life seem large and the Kingdom of God the one supreme
reality for man; and all this in spite of the fact that he is far
from being Puritan; never showing the marks of an ascetic nor any
tendency or inclination to self-martyrdom; as much in need of
reform in some things as the time honored secretary of the Club;
popular with men because in so many respects like them; popular
also as a public speaker and on occasions where grace of speech
and manner constitute an essential factor in the program; a
conspicuous personality in a pageant, having the note of
sincerity, sympathy and appeal that commands assemblies; a man
whose promotion will always be in spite of high-churchmen and the
favorites of Bishops; a man indispensable to the breadth and
representative character of the Club.
There remains one other activity to be mentioned in Mr. Nelson's
city-wide ministry. In 1930 Mayor Murray Seasongood appointed him to the
Board of Directors of the University of Cincinnati, a board commonly
known as the Trustees. It was a distinguished appointment,
characteristic of Mayor Seasongood's primary emphasis on the welfare of
the city, and indicative of the confidence placed by intellectual and
civic leaders in Mr. Nelson's judgment and ability. The Board was made
up of eight business men and lawyers and concerned itself mainly with
the financial problems of the University. Mr. Nelson's approach was to
the human element in each situation with which this Board had to deal.
He served in this capacity for eight years, and became "an acute,
piercing trustee." The University Medical School has oversight of the
Cincinnati General Hospital, and Mr. Nelson was troubled by the large
number of cases of tuberculosis among members of the staff and the
nurses and interns. The hours were long, the pay poor, and living
conditions deplorable. He was very active in his support of the efforts
by the authorities to bring about improvement in these conditions.
He was chairman of the committee which interviewed candidates for the
office of Dean of Woman, since many on the Board did not feel qualified
to make such a selection. During the depression in the thirties when
reduction of salaries and of department personnel became necessary, Mr.
Nelson was instrumental in securing fair treatment for the individual
teacher. He would ask if the teacher whose salary reduction was under
consideration had a family and how many children. His colleagues
considered him a very important agent in preserving morale during these
difficult years, and the President and deans frequently sought his
counsel.
He was a firm believer in academic freedom. When the Engineering College
arranged lectures for business men, he gave the plan his hearty support,
and occasionally came under fire because of certain radical speakers. He
was frequently the choice of the University as its representative on
public occasions in the city. At the Commencement of 1924, the
University of Cincinnati bestowed upon Mr. Nelson the honorary degree of
Doctor of Laws, "as one who has ever striven to advance the government
of the mind and spirit, and who by his own severe self-discipline and
true humility has taught all of us to subdue ourselves to the
imperishable laws of reason and faith."
When one considers the recognition which the entire city whole-heartedly
and unreservedly accorded Mr. Nelson, it is a sorry commentary on the
influence of politics that upon the expiration of his second term as a
trustee of the University the new Republican Mayor, James Garfield
Stewart, failed to reappoint him. He was deeply hurt, but there was
satisfaction in the realization that it was because of his continued
denunciation of party politics that the reappointment did not go
through. He was a clergyman who never curried favor nor withheld opinion
when forthrightness was the moral requisite. The people knew where he
stood, and no office could silence him. To behave as a citizen is "to
conduct oneself as pledged to some law of life." His faithful obedience
was recognized on many occasions and in numerous ways. One such
recognition was his place in a group of fifteen leading citizens
selected by four Cincinnatians chosen at random by "_The Cincinnati
Post_." He was described as "having given vision and voice to public
service, and in the art of human relations a leader in many fields for
many people."
Few public testimonials have awakened so spontaneous a response as that
tendered Mr. Nelson on December 3, 1923, in honor of his twenty-five
years of service to church and city. Originating among his own
parishioners, the plan quickly developed into a city-wide observance.
The committee on arrangements was expanded, and included the Reverend
Doctor Francis J. Finn, Rabbi David Philipson, the Reverend John F.
Herget, and the Right Reverend Boyd Vincent, as well as a large number
of prominent laity outside Christ Church. When the evening arrived, one
thousand one hundred people from all paths of life sat down to dinner in
the Hotel Gibson. The President of the University, Dr. Frederick C.
Hicks, presided. The Mayor, then George P. Carrell, cut short a vacation
in order to be present and speak for the city, Mr. George D. Crabbs
represented the Social Agencies, Dr. William S. Rainsford came on from
New York to join in the acclaim. Mayor Carrell voiced a perfect tribute
when he spoke of Mr. Nelson in these simple words: "Here is a true man.
He loves his fellows. He does not recognize creed or color. Cincinnati
is proud of him. Cincinnati loves him." At the conclusion of the
speeches, Mr. Nelson, visibly affected, rose to speak. The tumultuous
applause lasted five minutes. With characteristic humility he expressed
his thanks, and then drew the attention of the audience to the central
theme of any true public servant's work, namely, that "Faith creates;
cynicism destroys." This enthusiastic testimonial was a moving
demonstration of the place Frank Nelson filled in the hearts of his
fellow-citizens, an exception to the rule that a prophet is without
honor in his own city. There were two interesting side-lights to the
occasion. On the morning of the dinner the Reverend Francis J. Finn, a
particular friend, and the pastor of St. Francis Xavier's Roman
Catholic Church, offered up the Holy Sacrifice with his Protestant
friend as his special intention; and in the evening there stood among
the waiters, but not of them, Detroit Williams, the colored sexton of
Christ Church, who could not have been present but for Mr. Nelson's
skillful arrangement.
Such was the spirit of Cincinnati's great Christian citizen. His
humanity was all inclusive, his spirit discerning, and the city claimed
him as its own, for he gave voice to its conscience and helped it find
its soul.
FOOTNOTES:
[9] _City Management_ Charles P. Taft, p. 108 Farrar and Rineheart,
1933. Used by permission. Other statements on the Charter Movement are
based upon the report of the Consultant Service of the National
Municipal League entitled _The Government of Cincinnati, 1924-1944_.
[10] _City Management_ C. P. Taft, p. 30. Farrar and Rineheart. Used
with permission.
[11] Adaptation of a thought expressed by Alexander Woollcott in _While
Rome Burns_, p. 7.
[12] Mr. Nelson twice spent a year in Rome on leave of absence.
_They Came
To Be In
His Presence_
_In This Church
The Reverend Frank Howard Nelson, D.D.
Preached The Gospel of Christ
for Forty Years
1899-1939_
"_I thank my God upon every remembrance
of you._"
--_Memorial Plaque at Entrance
to Christ Church._
5