CHAPTER VIII

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.

“'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.”