Phoenix, Arizona (1931)
Our stay at Pueblo was short, for he accepted a call from Phoenix to pastor the church that he had organized four years before. Brother Englebreck made us a large two-wheel trailer in which we were able to pack most of our furniture. The trailer and our Ford did a great job moving us to Phoenix. It was indeed good to renew old acquaintances. Brother Nearing had done a splendid job during the four years since the church had been built. The congregation had enlarged. The church did not have a parsonage, but plans were in the making to build one. We moved in to a rented house.
The Bolender's House in Phoenix
We were glad we had gotten there in time, for the District Assembly was to convene at Pasadena, California. This was our first trip to the West Coast. Folks advised us to cross the hot dry desert during the night hours, which we did. Brother Nearing made the trip with us. Rev. Seth C. Reese presided in all the business during the day with preaching services at night. Brother Soltero, who had graduated from the Pilgrim Bible School that Brother Reese had founded in Pasadena, married a godly school teacher and went back to Mexico to open a mission. His wife attended this Assembly and thrilled our hearts as she told of those early days of conflicts and conquests. Our strong Wesleyan work today in Mexico stands as a great monument to these consecrated soldiers of the cross. Brother Soltero's first wife worked faithfully by his side and taught their first young ministers in their home. Before the Lord took her home, several young preachers had finished their schooling and were out in the field starting new churches. Her homegoing was felt greatly not only by her husband and the church in Mexico, but also by the church here in the States, and especially the California District that had done so much to support the work. After a few years, he married Nellie Carrol, the Sister Soltero that most present Wesleyans have known and loved, who so recently passed to her reward. Brother Soltero preceded her in death several years, but the work goes on in our three growing Districts in Mexico. What a privilege we have had to meet and hear each of these great missionary leaders. The work in Mexico was the highlight of the 1930 California Assembly. We remained in Pasadena over Sunday and Brother Bolender was asked to preach in Pasadena at the First Pilgrim Church. We humbly considered this quite an honor. That was a very enjoyable and scenic trip as well as a spiritual uplift.
We returned home to plunge into our hew work. The building of the parsonage moved forward swiftly. What a privilege it was to move into the nice new parsonage next to the church. But oh the heat! We had no water heating system except a water tank on the roof which during the day really got hot and certainly did not get very cool at night. The city boasted one business house that had air conditioning. Some people wrapped themselves in wet sheets and slept outside. We never tried that, but many nights we were awake when we turned over and suddenly came in contact with the hot sheet that our body had not cooled. Most of the churches closed during the hottest months. There were united services held in a pavilion in the city park with different pastors taking turns preaching, but our people wanted none of that. We went on with our regular services. Hand fans were the order of the day. The faithful pastor wiped perspiration while he preached.
There was little relief from the heat when September came, but children must start school. During the year of school they were in three different states, but many times children adjust to changing circumstances quicker than adults.
We returned home to plunge into our hew work. The building of the parsonage moved forward swiftly. What a privilege it was to move into the nice new parsonage next to the church. But oh the heat! We had no water heating system except a water tank on the roof which during the day really got hot and certainly did not get very cool at night. The city boasted one business house that had air conditioning. Some people wrapped themselves in wet sheets and slept outside. We never tried that, but many nights we were awake when we turned over and suddenly came in contact with the hot sheet that our body had not cooled. Most of the churches closed during the hottest months. There were united services held in a pavilion in the city park with different pastors taking turns preaching, but our people wanted none of that. We went on with our regular services. Hand fans were the order of the day. The faithful pastor wiped perspiration while he preached.
There was little relief from the heat when September came, but children must start school. During the year of school they were in three different states, but many times children adjust to changing circumstances quicker than adults.
Juanita and Warren in Phoenix
We had the great old Hoosier evangelist, John T. Hatfield, for a revival. He was then 79 years of age. We wondered at that age if he might be living and preaching mostly in his yesterdays; but on the very first Sunday, our questions all evaporated. He called for some testimonies stating, "Nothing stale or dry; not what the Lord did for you 30, 20, or 10 years ago; how is your soul now? What has God done for you today?” Several good testimonies followed. Then a sister arose and started her testimony, “30 years ago.” She got no farther for Brother Hatfield said, “Sister, sit down. We want to know what God has done for you today." Brother Hatfield could do those things without killing the spirit of a revival or hurting feelings. We had a glorious revival of deep conviction, restitution, clear conversions, and sanctification. If you have not read his book, Thirty-Three Years a Live Wire, you should. You might be able to get it from God's Revivalist Press, 1810 Young Street, Cincinnati, Ohio. That was the last time we saw Brother Hatfield, but we expect to meet him in glory before long.
We were happy with the spiritual and numerical growth of the church and Sunday school. We had some special opportunities to minister to physical needs to some of our congregation and to unchurched neighbors. This is a line of ministering God has led us to pursue down through the years that has proven to be a great outreach. Our Christmas at Phoenix was quite different. We were invited to spend the day with the Charles Edwards family, farmers near Glendale, Arizona. Charles was a brother of my brother-in-law, Arthur Edwards. We enjoyed the good dinner and Christian fellowship with this fine family, but the mild balmy weather did not seem Christmassy. We found the children playing in a wagon filled with cotton that the Edwards had picked. Snow or not, they were playing white Christmas.
In the Spring of 1931, Brother Bolender went to Chino Valley, Arizona, for a revival meeting in the Nazarene Church where Arthur Edwards pastored. Chino was a fertile little valley about 18 miles from Prescott. My sister and her husband lived there on a small ranch. I could not go as the children were in school; besides the pastoral duties fell on me.
There was quite a large settlement of Mormons in the valley. They had a large church building with faithful attendance. The membership of the Nazarene Church was small, but many in the valley of other denominations preferred attending the Nazarene Church instead of the larger Mormon churches. This not only gave good attendance, but also brought in people who were church goers who had never been converted. There was much prayer for the revival and conviction was settling down. People were seeking and finding God. One night a young man came to the altar. The lady in whose home he was employed began trying to help him, urging him to make a decision for Christ. My sister and some others had this dear lady on their prayer list. They sensed her spiritual need even though she was serving as the Sunday Superintendent of the community Sunday school that met at the Nazarene Church. The Holy Spirit began that night to open her spiritual eyes to her own need. The next night, she was at the altar and prayed earnestly, but did not receive the assurance of salvation. As the service closed, she was admonished to continue seeking until she knew she was saved. She told them that their large incubator was due for hatching and the next day she would be constantly busy. Brother Bolender made a very unusual request. Put your alarm clock right by the incubator and every 15 minutes drop to your knees and ask God to save you. You can be assured that others were praying that night and the next day. Before the service began the next night, she arrived saying, "I did just what you told me to.” As soon as the invitation was given, she made her way to the altar and soon arose with a glowing testimony. She afterwards sought sanctification and became a member of the Nazarene Church.
The Mormon Church did everything possible to keep their young people from attending revivals. When one began, there would be parties and dances every night at their church to keep their youth from being enticed to the revival services. The Nazarene young people were ridiculed and called nasternees, but thank God some chose to take the straight and narrow way that leadeth unto life. God sent a revival to Chino Valley.
We were happy with the spiritual and numerical growth of the church and Sunday school. We had some special opportunities to minister to physical needs to some of our congregation and to unchurched neighbors. This is a line of ministering God has led us to pursue down through the years that has proven to be a great outreach. Our Christmas at Phoenix was quite different. We were invited to spend the day with the Charles Edwards family, farmers near Glendale, Arizona. Charles was a brother of my brother-in-law, Arthur Edwards. We enjoyed the good dinner and Christian fellowship with this fine family, but the mild balmy weather did not seem Christmassy. We found the children playing in a wagon filled with cotton that the Edwards had picked. Snow or not, they were playing white Christmas.
In the Spring of 1931, Brother Bolender went to Chino Valley, Arizona, for a revival meeting in the Nazarene Church where Arthur Edwards pastored. Chino was a fertile little valley about 18 miles from Prescott. My sister and her husband lived there on a small ranch. I could not go as the children were in school; besides the pastoral duties fell on me.
There was quite a large settlement of Mormons in the valley. They had a large church building with faithful attendance. The membership of the Nazarene Church was small, but many in the valley of other denominations preferred attending the Nazarene Church instead of the larger Mormon churches. This not only gave good attendance, but also brought in people who were church goers who had never been converted. There was much prayer for the revival and conviction was settling down. People were seeking and finding God. One night a young man came to the altar. The lady in whose home he was employed began trying to help him, urging him to make a decision for Christ. My sister and some others had this dear lady on their prayer list. They sensed her spiritual need even though she was serving as the Sunday Superintendent of the community Sunday school that met at the Nazarene Church. The Holy Spirit began that night to open her spiritual eyes to her own need. The next night, she was at the altar and prayed earnestly, but did not receive the assurance of salvation. As the service closed, she was admonished to continue seeking until she knew she was saved. She told them that their large incubator was due for hatching and the next day she would be constantly busy. Brother Bolender made a very unusual request. Put your alarm clock right by the incubator and every 15 minutes drop to your knees and ask God to save you. You can be assured that others were praying that night and the next day. Before the service began the next night, she arrived saying, "I did just what you told me to.” As soon as the invitation was given, she made her way to the altar and soon arose with a glowing testimony. She afterwards sought sanctification and became a member of the Nazarene Church.
The Mormon Church did everything possible to keep their young people from attending revivals. When one began, there would be parties and dances every night at their church to keep their youth from being enticed to the revival services. The Nazarene young people were ridiculed and called nasternees, but thank God some chose to take the straight and narrow way that leadeth unto life. God sent a revival to Chino Valley.
Bertha and Harry in Phoenix
Arizona is a very scenic state. We enjoyed some trips visiting my sister. The Granite Dells near Prescott are impressive. The Indians were of great interest to Warren. We visited the sight of the early cliff dwellers. When we first visited this site, we were allowed to climb ladders that led to second and third levels exhibiting much of the way of life of those early tribes. Since, such liberties have been restricted. We saw the Indians, from those in tiny huts far out on the desert, to the more progressive in towns, plying their native crafts, rug and blanket weaving, and jewelry making. We took pictures. Some smiled and were pleased to have their picture taken and others scowled and demanded pay. There were many advantages to enjoy that helped to offset the terrible discomfort of the terrific heat of summer. Fresh fruits and vegetables were bountiful. Salt River Valley was rich soil and was irrigated. One of our members, Bro. Fridenmaker had truck patches there. He was good to remember his pastor’s family. One time he brought a huge radish that had been planted and grown in 10 days.
Olive trees were plentiful along city streets and country roadways. I liked olives so I tried one right off the tree. It was very bitter. I began inquiring about processing olives and soon got two or three recipes. Olives were free for the picking. The first step was to soak them in lye solution for so many days (which had to be done in enamel, porcelain, or glass). The only thing I had large enough was the bath tub; so I cleaned the tub, made the solution and in went the olives. I followed the directions carefully. I finished with 13 gallons of delicious olives. We ate and shared olives for three years. We then found it difficult to enjoy commercially processed ones.
We had another revival that year at Phoenix. Rev. J. Paul Roper was the evangelist. There was a measure of results. But with some who battled with conviction, it seemed we could hear the echo across the centuries. “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” Revivals are serious undertakings.
Spring days were approaching. The days getting longer, we no longer needed the little 10 gallon sheet iron heating stove that used to chase away the early morning chill. We were nearing the close of the children’s school year and the church year. There were some problems my husband had not been able to work out, though we had a very successful year. We would probably have received a recall, but he felt it might cause more smooth functioning of the church for him to tell the board not to consider his name as pastor for the coming year. This meant we had to start planning, packing, and giving our farewells along with some tears. We made our last visit to my sister in Chino Valley. On the last night of that visit, my sister and I did not go to bed, but sat in the yard and talked while a lone mockingbird sang from a nearby cottonwood tree. Our hearts were sad; how we loved each other. How uncertain we were that we would meet again in this world.
The next morning, we were on our way back East pulling the heavy loaded trailer. We also had another passenger – a lady traveling to Nebraska. As we drove through an Indian reservation out in the desert, an axle broke on the heavily loaded trailer. There was nothing to do but to unload the trailer so he could take it to the last town we had passed through (40 miles back) to get another axle. I was thankful for our extra passenger. The children and I did not have to be alone those long hours in that desolate place. We had to stay with our things. We were thankful for the extra food my sister had prepared and for water, even if it was warm. Finally after four or five hours, we saw the Model A come into sight. What a relief. As quickly as possible we reloaded the trailer, securing everything, and were on our way again. We were thankful that nothing worse had happened.
Our friend left us when she made another connection to finish her trip. We continued our trip to St. Louis, Missouri, where we picked up my brother Arthur and went to our father’s home in Huntsville, Kentucky. We had not been to my father’s for several years, so it was a happy occasion. He had planned a revival at the Methodist Church where he belonged. The meeting was well attended. Among the converts was my brother’s stepdaughter, a very sweet teenager. I had loved her since she was a small child. About two years later, she died at my father’s home. He felt she had remained true to her profession of faith. Soon after the revival closed, we bid Father and my stepmother goodbye and were on our to Ohio where the Bolenders were waiting to welcome us.
The heavily loaded trailer was unhitched and left at the farm where Herbert, the oldest of the two Bolender sons, operated the farm and the large Bolender orchard. Father and Mother Bolender had purchased a house in the old but small town of Felicity for their retiring years. I can still feel the warmth of the smiles and hugs we received as we emerged from the car and were led into their beautifully arranged and well kept cottage home.
Olive trees were plentiful along city streets and country roadways. I liked olives so I tried one right off the tree. It was very bitter. I began inquiring about processing olives and soon got two or three recipes. Olives were free for the picking. The first step was to soak them in lye solution for so many days (which had to be done in enamel, porcelain, or glass). The only thing I had large enough was the bath tub; so I cleaned the tub, made the solution and in went the olives. I followed the directions carefully. I finished with 13 gallons of delicious olives. We ate and shared olives for three years. We then found it difficult to enjoy commercially processed ones.
We had another revival that year at Phoenix. Rev. J. Paul Roper was the evangelist. There was a measure of results. But with some who battled with conviction, it seemed we could hear the echo across the centuries. “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” Revivals are serious undertakings.
Spring days were approaching. The days getting longer, we no longer needed the little 10 gallon sheet iron heating stove that used to chase away the early morning chill. We were nearing the close of the children’s school year and the church year. There were some problems my husband had not been able to work out, though we had a very successful year. We would probably have received a recall, but he felt it might cause more smooth functioning of the church for him to tell the board not to consider his name as pastor for the coming year. This meant we had to start planning, packing, and giving our farewells along with some tears. We made our last visit to my sister in Chino Valley. On the last night of that visit, my sister and I did not go to bed, but sat in the yard and talked while a lone mockingbird sang from a nearby cottonwood tree. Our hearts were sad; how we loved each other. How uncertain we were that we would meet again in this world.
The next morning, we were on our way back East pulling the heavy loaded trailer. We also had another passenger – a lady traveling to Nebraska. As we drove through an Indian reservation out in the desert, an axle broke on the heavily loaded trailer. There was nothing to do but to unload the trailer so he could take it to the last town we had passed through (40 miles back) to get another axle. I was thankful for our extra passenger. The children and I did not have to be alone those long hours in that desolate place. We had to stay with our things. We were thankful for the extra food my sister had prepared and for water, even if it was warm. Finally after four or five hours, we saw the Model A come into sight. What a relief. As quickly as possible we reloaded the trailer, securing everything, and were on our way again. We were thankful that nothing worse had happened.
Our friend left us when she made another connection to finish her trip. We continued our trip to St. Louis, Missouri, where we picked up my brother Arthur and went to our father’s home in Huntsville, Kentucky. We had not been to my father’s for several years, so it was a happy occasion. He had planned a revival at the Methodist Church where he belonged. The meeting was well attended. Among the converts was my brother’s stepdaughter, a very sweet teenager. I had loved her since she was a small child. About two years later, she died at my father’s home. He felt she had remained true to her profession of faith. Soon after the revival closed, we bid Father and my stepmother goodbye and were on our to Ohio where the Bolenders were waiting to welcome us.
The heavily loaded trailer was unhitched and left at the farm where Herbert, the oldest of the two Bolender sons, operated the farm and the large Bolender orchard. Father and Mother Bolender had purchased a house in the old but small town of Felicity for their retiring years. I can still feel the warmth of the smiles and hugs we received as we emerged from the car and were led into their beautifully arranged and well kept cottage home.
Harvesting apples in the Bolender Orchard
The preacher soon donned overalls and joined his brother in the early apple harvest. He was soon informed that he had been called as evangelist for the annual Nazarene tent meeting. From night to night the tent was filled not only by members of the church, but by old schoolmates, neighbors, and friends who had come to hear the home boy preach, several who seldom, if ever, entered church doors. They came and stood outside in the shadows or sat on bumpers or running boards of cars and trucks. The singing of the precious gospel songs went out over the night breezes, often punctuated by praises to God and testimonies; after which the message of Salvation was presented in simplicity. Thank God some seed did fall on “good ground,” but how can we be sure until the completion of the harvest what the final results of our labors are?
