1957: In the USA

 

Our time to return to the US had come. Why are we looking so glum in the photo? Sad to leave Argentina for a year? Or still into the old-fashioned serious-look for photos?

I was surprised to learn from "Aunt" Margaret's letters that we flew out of Río Cuarto, in the center of the country, rather than from Buenos Aires, the capital. I remember nothing about that time in the interior. However, the details she wrote are interesting.

July 30

We are expecting the Hoyts tomorrow evening, so this is going to be a busy week. Hoyts will go to Río Tercero to visit the Churchills on Thursday and come back here on Friday. Then they leave Río Cuarto by plane Sat. morning, so we'll have the fun of seeing them off. I'm looking forward to having them for we've seen so little of them since we've been back. [The Marshalls were our first missionary neighbors and dear friends in La Carlota.]

August 11

The Hoyts have come and gone. They came Wednesday evening just about supper time. I had fixed supper before the Women's meeting so that it would be ready--had noodle-pea-and-tuna-fish casserole, cole slaw and lemon pie. (made 4 pies that morning).

They left for Río Tercero Thursday morning and got back here for dinner on Friday. They were busy washing out clothes, buying a few last minute things, bathing, etc., the rest of that day. Then we all drove out to the airport Sat. morning to see them off. They were flying over to Chile and then up to the States.  They will be landing in Pittsburgh Wednesday night. 

The more I read Margaret's weekly letters, the greater my admiration for her. I don't know how she managed to show hospitality to the constant visitors who stopped by the headquarters while keeping up with three little active boys, as well as all the missionary work. And to make life even more difficult, all that year, 1957, they were dealing with the additional turmoil of renovations: a new roof, some remodeling, and the entire building painted room by room. As the family's living quarters were worked on, they relocated from one area to another continually, including setting up a kitchen elsewhere and using outdoor bathrooms for awhile.

Aconcagua from the south (Wikipedia)

About the flight, I do remember the noticeable change in scenery as we flew west and over the Andes mountain range. The central plains turned into rolling hills, then mountains, some snow on the peaks and finally all you could see was a white landscape, without even a speck of color or a black dot. It was winter and we were flying over the area where the highest peak in the Americas is located, Aconcagua with an elevation of  22,840 feet. Perhaps this was the flight when we had to wear oxygen masks while flying at such high altitudes. 

A week after leaving Don Bosco, we arrived in Pittsburgh, in Western Pennsylvania, not too far from  the Hirschy homestead in the town of Evans City where Grandpa pastored the Baptist church. 

The first photo is of the parsonage where Mother grew up and the church where my parents were married.

Baptist church and parsonage next door, on right

Sometime later, a new church was built a couple blocks down the road. And the old church building was made into a home for missionaries on furlough, as seen on this 1955 Christmas card.
 

I have no recollection of our arrival, so can only imagine that either my grandparents and/or uncle Phil met us at the airport. Nor am I aware of why my parents chose to be based in Evans City for the year. The previous furlough was spent in Winona Lake, where our mission's headquarters was located. Dad built a house there during that time. Again this year, Dad was involved in a building project, an addition to the parsonage, a small apartment for Grandpa and Grandma, while we occupied the main house. 

The annex

Both apartments in the missionary home next door were occupied. One of the families was that of Joyce (Mother's oldest sister), her husband, Ed de Rosset, and their four children, on leave from Peru. It was during this year that a friendship grew with my cousins Karin, Eddie, Rosie, and Freddy.

 
Karin, two years older, passed on some of her clothes to me. Grandma noted in her October 18 weekly letter to the family scattered abroad. "Rita has grown quite a bit since here. We can tell by her clothes. She is wearing several of Karin's skirts and blouses that are too small for Karin."  

Eddie and I were in the eighth grade. I remember how handsome he was with his thick shock of red hair.

Rosie and I often walked to school together. She was in the fourth grade, I was in eighth.

[We were sad to hear that the school is closed now after eighty four years.]

In the same letter, Grandma mentioned my parents' travels and some of what Lynn and I were up to. "Letters from Kathryn say that they had a safe trip down to Tennessee. Solon has been quite busy speaking five times. They were staying with Mother Hoyt up at Grandview."

Lynn and I stayed with Grandma Hirschy so as not to miss school. Aldo went with my parents and took his school books so Mother could help him not fall behind.

Saturday, Oct. 19:"We expect Solons home Monday. They are to be at Dayton, OH, on Sunday. . . Rita went up to clean upstairs and Lynn has been tooting his trumpet which he got yesterday. Now he went out to rake leaves."

The next weekly letter, Oct. 25, adds that they drove through the night so that Aldo could attend school in the afternoon. 

They were tired and went to bed for an hour or two. Then in the afternoon worked at the building again. Now tomorrow he [Solon] has to go to Canton, Ohio. This is the church that supports them, and they want the whole family to come. He has another appointment in Ohio next week. They sure don’t give him much rest. And I guess we don’t either. However, he enjoys working at this more even if it does make the muscles sore. 

Throughout that year, Grandma's letters included details of the building progress. The two brothers-in-law (Solon and Ed) worked steadily and sacrificially. In November she wrote: "The annex is progressing. The bathroom is about ready to paint and put the blocks on the floor. The plumbing is almost finished."

Where was Grandpa Hirschy all this time? After thirty years pastoring the Evans City Baptist Church, they granted him a ministry leave. He spent October and November on the island of Barbados. He wrote that the warm climate helped his catarrh (buildup of mucus in the back of the nose, throat, or sinuses). It was very restful there. His stomach was feeling better even without medication. Early every morning he walked to the ocean, half a mile away. By mid November he had spoken more than fifty times, was feeling miserable with a cold and so very lonely he could cry.

Grandma was struggling to keep up with everything during his absence. "I have all the correspondence that Pop did to look after beside writing to him and you all."

My grandparents had prayed for a missionary family. Of their six children, four went out as missionaries, in two continents, Africa and South America. Long before the internet or even good and affordable long distance phone service, communication was a challenge. For decades, Grandpa and Grandma kept the family informed and united by typing extracts or summaries of the letters that came in each week and mailing out carbon-copied versions. (No copy-machines back then either.) We looked forward to these lengthy single-spaced epistles, and treasure them to this day!

Now, about my other grandmother, the one I never got to know very well. She looked after me and must have been very helpful to us when she lived close in Winona Lake. However, I was only an infant.

Grandma Hoyt holding Rita

I have a vague memory of playing with buttons or trinkets she kept in a lower drawer. The photo tells me she enjoyed caring for me, her very first granddaughter, after several grandsons.

I admired her from afar, for all that I learned about her. She lost her three-month-old firstborn son, then gave birth to ten more children (including a pair of twins) over a period of fifteen years. Life was hard. They were very poor. There was much dysfunction. Grandpa Hoyt abandoned the family when Dad (# 8) was still a youth of about 16 years of age. And yet, all ten living children achieved high levels of education and most, if not all, were involved in Christian ministry.

Dad never spoke much about his parents. He was a man of action and lived very much in the present. The past was pain-filled.

More recently, I came upon a couple documents and four handwritten letters that told me so much more about this amazing little woman that many have said I resemble.

Grandma's little white house in Grandview, TN

The first document was titled: ANNA  LEOLA  DORSEY  HOYT'S ITINERARY  FROM  BIRTH (A copy of notes found among Grandma Hoyt's papers).

She had kept a record of her many moves from age 9 to 72--family relocations and visits with each offspring as she traveled from one to another in her latter years. I counted at least eighty five moves. 

The only four letters in my possession were written to my family in 1957. She commented on every detail of what was going on in our lives in Argentina and then shared her news and whatever she had heard from the other Hoyts. She always expressed a longing to hear from us, and that the time would pass quickly until our return to the US.

  

January 14: "Your Jan. 3 letter was so welcome for I had waited for it since first of Nov. I do hope you are well situated in your new house. Moving is a real task which I've learned thru many long years. Surely hope you were able to get the temple in perfect shape for the Christmas program. . . 86 was a goodly number at your Christmas program, wasn't it?"

She enjoyed her little house and the church nearby. She helped start an adult Sunday School class. They were studying prophecy in the book of Daniel. 

It was a very cold winter. She had to heat with wood, "It is getting near chore time for me. Must bring in small sticks that burn up quickly then some large dry ones that hold fire longer then a lot of big green chunks to keep fire all night." 

When it rained, however, there was an extra step. "My pile of wood is completely saturated with water. I have to bring in a few small pieces in evening to dry in oven ready to start morning fire."

Racial troubles were uppermost there at the time. There was KKK activity. A negro camp near Grandview had their kitchen and dining room set on fire. "The feeling against the negro is a fast growing menace," she wrote April 30.

In February, Grandma received the Bryan Newsette in the mail (a publication of Bryan University, my parents' alma mater), and wrote, "Lo and behold! What met my eyes? A letter from Solon and Kathryn, and what I liked most was your intention to visit Grandview." 
Later she said, "I'm praying you may spend some time here and then I'd like to be where I can see you many times during your furlough."

As already mentioned, my parents and Aldo did visit Grandma Hoyt in Grandview. They stayed six days, probably their last time together. Lynn and I never got to see her again. In early December, she became ill and died. She was 73.

I remember my father's sadness when she passed away. He was the only one of our family who traveled to Winona Lake for the funeral.

Hoyt family reunion for Grandma's funeral

The second document in my possession was MOTHER'S 1957 DIARY (Excerpts from Anna Leola Dorsey Hoyt's diary for 1957, the year of her death).

Perhaps whoever compiled this did so in an effort to understand what led up to her demise. Her very brief daily entries reminded me of Grandma Hirschy's diaries. There were notes about: the weather; visitors, comings and goings; letters received; the garden, flowers and harvest; household tasks or problems. At regular intervals, two entries which I found interesting: "Defrosted refrigerator." (almost monthly) and "Shampooed my hair."  There was only one hint of a health issue: "September 8 - I had a slight heart attack at about 1 or 2 AM. Also had (almost) a dizzy spell at 8 AM." She immediately moved on to the water problems she was having, "The well went dry or something wrong with the pump." Nothing more was said about her health.

The earthly cause of death will remain a mystery. However, we know that God has an appointed time for each of us to be born and to die. His ways are perfect. And we also know that to be in His presence is unfathomably more desirable and He longs to welcome His own. "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints (Psalm 116:15)." 

1957: Changes

Painting by Juan Colle: Las sierras

January summer camps were held for the last time in El Quebracho (Valle de Calamuchita). For lack of a photo of the exact campsite, here is a representative oil painting by a good friend. I purchased it as a birthday gift to myself years ago and it hangs in our living room to remind me of the many happy memories of camp in the sierras. 

For several years, the missionaries had been searching to purchase a permanent campground. They rented sites that had no structures or buildings, which meant that tents and all the necessary equipment had to be set up each time. Margaret Marshall explained the ordeal in her January 13, 1957 letter to family:

Our camps have very little in the way of commodities, but the 75 young people, age 15 on up, who were there seemed to have a wonderful time. It's an awful lot of work getting ready for the camp, for we just rent a piece of ground and then everything has to be taken there and set up. there were 2 boys' tents, a girls' tent, kitchen tent, dining room & classroom tent and several individual family tents.

In November of that year, the mission finally purchased the perfect campground, which is now well equipped with permanent facilities—Campamento Cerro San Lorenzo.  

Margaret Marshall and boys: David, Peter, Michael

The Marshall family lived at the mission headquarters in Río Cuarto. Most hospitality responsibilities fell on them. Before each camp session people began to arrive at different times from various towns to await departure by truck to the campsite. Early arrivals required overnight accommodation and meals. And when they returned from their week in the sierras, they lingered there till time for their return trip home. As I read Margaret's letters I realized how very much work she did, willingly yet sacrificially.

I was surprised to learn from her weekly correspondence that my mother had accompanied five campers to the children's camp session, January 19-24.

About 8:30 [Thursday the 18th] the train came in from Buenos Aires, bringing Kathryn Hoyt and five children with her, and Don Bishop with four youngsters from Corrales, so I served them and got them placed for the night while Jim had prayer meeting. They were planning to leave at 8:00 Friday morning, but arrangements hadn't been made for getting a big enough truck to take them, so it was about 10:00 before they all got away.

I wrote to my best friend Mirtha soon after camp to tell her all about our travels. Our car load, with Mr. Schrock driving, had left camp right after the last evening meeting around the camp fire, el fogón, always a special time of sharing. On the road to Río Cuarto we got lost once, and stopped to help another car in our group that had carburetor trouble. We finally arrived at headquarters at 2 a.m., some of us feeling sick. We got up at 7:30 a.m. to catch the 9 o'clock train. Daddy and Devesas were waiting for us at the central train station in Buenos Aires. That tells me that my friend Mabel Devesa went to camp with us.

Next I told Mirtha about the big change about to affect our family: "After a series of problems, we finally have the house and can move in whenever we want."

Some months earlier the owners of Maconaghys' and Hoyts' rentals said they needed their houses. The mission began the process of purchasing a residence for each of these missionary units. Our family moved to Chiclana 1074, a few blocks away from the first home and closer to the newly built Templo, the church building. Google Maps' latest photo, taken a year ago, reveals architectural changes, damages and much deterioration to the home we lovingly remember. 

Chiclana 1074, July 2021

Across the street lived the Clausens, a lovely Danish family who became our good friends. They belonged to another congregation in a neighboring town and hosted a Good News Club in their garage every Thursday afternoon. My friends and I attended regularly. I mentioned this in my early correspondence with Mirtha. 

Every Thursday afternoon at six o'clock, there is a Good News Club. . . The teacher's name is Carlos and I don't know how to spell his last name. Well, last Thursday we divided into two groups. One of girls, and another of boys. We voted and I became captain of the girls' team and had two secretaries. We voted again and the boys' captain was a boy called Eduardo Clausen. Carlos, our teacher, gave us some homework for this Thursday, to write an essay about Naaman's servant girl. He gave us three questions we had to answer: Who was the girl? What did she do? What does she teach us? I finished the assignment and will take it today. 

It is an interesting experience to look back at one's own reflections as a child. I was only ten-years-old at the time of that writing. Other surprises came as I continued to read those old letters. At age twelve I first heard a rumored version of  "Where do babies come from?"

Dora is a girl my age, after you she is one of my best friends . . . she also passed into first year of secondary school like me . . .  

About those secrets: she was told them when she was in fourth grade, but she didn't take it as a laughing matter or something dirty but rather asked her mother who told her that children are asked of God. Dora still doubted . . . then one day she shared these doubts with me. I didn't know anything about anything and at first was horrified but then I said her mother was right . . . because I remembered how my mother and father prayed before Aldo and Lynn were born . . . But I couldn't get the thought out of my head so I asked Mother, "Isn't it right, Mom, that the only thing you have to do to have a baby is to pray?" She said, "No, dear." After that day, I experienced the same unrest that Dorita had, but only for a day because I said to myself: "If it were something bad my mom and dad would not do it and God would not have arranged it that way." 

We decided to consult the matter with Mirtha, two years older than us. Grateful for her eagerly-awaited response, we then composed a thank you letter together. Here it is in Dorita's handwriting.

Don Bosco, December 30, 1956

Dear Mirtha:

With great happiness we answer the lines you wrote us (or, better said, the pages you wrote us). We are so grateful because you have satisfied our need "to know." We no longer think of it as something bad, although we realized before that our parents would not do something bad, and we thank you for the advice you gave us when you told us we ought not drink from "impure sources" which we will do no longer.

We trust that when these lines reach you they find you and your family doing very well. I, Dora, hope my desire to meet you comes to pass, and may it be soon.

With no more, we say goodbye with much love, your friends, . . .  

How times have changed! With no television or internet, the age of innocence lasted longer. 

Radio was everywhere, however, so it was increasingly used to spread the message of the Gospel.

The Gospel is entering hundreds of homes several times a week—homes which otherwise would likely never be reached. Many thousands of radios are now located in homes, cars, hotels, restaurants and buses throughout Argentina. In the cities, towns, and rural areas people listen to the radio. Television has not yet taken over in Argentina. We are still in the day of radio here. And now is the time to use this method of evangelism. (The Brethren Missionary Herald, 12.07.57)

Another article by Lynn Schrock, the one in charge of the radio ministry:

Lynn Schrock in recording studio

"How many here tonight were converted through the radio ministry?" This was the question I asked the folks who attended the Sunday evening service in our General Conference held in Río Cuarto in March of 1957. About half a dozen folks there that night raised their hands. The Gospel had reached these folks in their homes because we're on the air in Argentina. . .

 It was on Saturday, June 11, 1955, that The Brethren Church had its first radio program in Argentina. At 3:45 p.m. the broadcast of the "Open Bible" went on the air. This name was chosen because the Bible is a closed book for the "religiosos" of Argentina. For that reason they are so far from the truth and from salvation. (The Brethren Missionary Herald, 2.01.58)

That first program was broadcast from a three and a half kilowatt station in Río Cuarto. Not long after, another broadcast was added for the general public, and one for children, "La Tía Sara" (Aunt Sarah) with stories and music by children from our Mission.

This reminded me of another excerpt from my correspondence with Mirtha where I mentioned the radio gang. Referring to the above mentioned friend Dora, I wrote, "She also belongs to the radio gang and whenever we ride on the bus or the train, she sits with me and we talk about so many things."  

Memories surfaced of those trips with Carlos Maccio, our teacher, to downtown Buenos Aires to a radio station where we recorded skits and music. One time I sang Psalm 103. I could still sing remember many years, but now the melody is gone. Neither can I recall who all participated in the radio gang, probably the faithful members of the children's Bible club. I do know that we got back home quite late from those outings. What radio station aired these programs is also a long-forgotten mystery, but probably had something to do with LAPEN, the Argentine branch of Child Evangelism.

The biggest change for us that year was about to come. After five years, it was time for our year-long furlough in the US.

Nélida Zannetti

In April, Nélida Zannetti, a Bible Institute graduate, was assigned to come to Don Bosco to look after the work there. She was my roommate for a couple months. Later on, she was joined by another young lady, Mirtha's sister, Eunice Siccardi.

A few years ago, I wrote the story of a memorable birthday that year.

Thirteenth Birthday Party—May, 1957

"Why don't you go put on your new clothes?" Mother said.

"What for?" I thought, but I dutifully went upstairs to my room and got out the pleated skirt and matching sweater set.

We had made several trips to Quilmes, by bus or train; walked the length of the long shopping district; searched in numerous fabric shops for my whimsical color choice--pink and gray. Mother would not give up until she had found the perfect plaid combination. How I loved that wool skirt! It was light and soft and the colors pleased me. I wore it for many years, carefully applying imperceptible patches to areas that had become threadbare.

But why now, nothing special going on, why should I wear my best clothes?

Then the doorbell rang and my friends began to arrive. "¡Feliz cumpleaños!" they sang.

Mother knew how much I had missed my friends from elementary school years. They had all started back to school in March, each following a different track. Delia had decided to go the secretarial route and was attending the Escuela Comercial. Others preparing for university chose the Escuela Nacional. I had not made up my mind yet because in a couple months we were returning to the US for a year, in time for fall classes in America.

Mother was getting out the food she had prepared. I could smell the bologna salad sandwiches. My friends loved these. She also knew how to make homemade marshmallows because at the time they were not yet available in Argentina. And my favorite birthday cake--the Never Fail Chocolate Cake with Seven Minute white frosting.

We played games, but mostly talked. I wanted to hear about their secondary school experience so far. They used public transportation to travel to their schools in Quilmes, the city twelve or fifteen minutes away by bus or train. Some went in the morning, others in the afternoon, and there was a night session also. Thus the same school building could accommodate three different programs with totally different administration and teachers. Obviously the structures were simpler and the systems less complex than in the US. I was soon to find that out for myself. 

The event served also as a going-away party. A year is a long time to be away from close friends. Already I missed them and knew I would never be able to catch up with them in school.

But for now, this was such a thoughtful surprise my Mother had prepared. We did not usually have birthday parties with our friends. Though the details have faded, Mother's loving efforts to make that day special remain a sweet memory.

In July we flew to the US. Come back next time for that story.  

Old Friendships

 

General José de San Martín

I was pleasantly surprised recently to see a photo of this mural painted by Amalia Rossetti forty years ago. The Rossettis were dear friends from our time in La Carlota. Amalia, the youngest, was a toddler when our family left there.

Reconnecting with old friends and making new ones has been one of the joys of sharing my life stories in blog format. I research to remember and make sense of long ago happenings, locate old friends, learn more about them and uncover interesting stories. 

Amalia was married and had a nine-year-old daughter when she became an art student at the Lino Enea Spilimbergo School of Applied Arts, a branch of Córdoba's State University. At the time, she lived with her husband and daughter in Tancacha, and traveled 10 miles away to attend classes in Río Tercero. Not long after beginning this new adventure in life, she discovered she was pregnant again. It was then that an opportunity arose that she could not pass up. Her daughter's school wanted a mural of the national hero. It had been a dream of hers to recreate the mural she had so admired in the school where she grew up. 

So the town provided the materials, and Amalia even mixed some of her own paints with oxides and pigments to save money. Then, already six months pregnant, she painstakingly labored over this commemorative mural of the Liberator of Argentina, Chile and Peru. Amazingly, she had to complete the masterpiece in four days! The university would not allow her to miss any more classes. She was able to finish the work just in time for the August 17 holiday, the anniversary of General San Martín's death! 

Amalia graduated after four years with a Masters in Visual Arts and taught in an elementary school for eighteen years. She recalls the mural-painting experience as one of the highlights of her art journey.

The town of Tancacha still remembers her contribution gratefully.

We stayed in touch with several generations of the family. Their faith journey with us in La Carlota, actually started before that in another town.

My father wrote the story of that first encounter for The Brethren Missionary Herald (2.07.1948).

About eight months ago at 10 o'clock in the morning two unknown ladies came to our door. One was a tall, thin elderly lady and the other, smaller and about 35 years old. After a few moments' conversation we learned that they were mother and daughter. . . The mother had been saved in Huinca not so long before, and had made a special trip to witness to her daughter in La Carlota. Not feeling too capable to explain the Gospel just yet, she brought her daughter to our home. There, for some minutes, we listened to the daughter make her defense (for she did most of the talking). After she seemed satisfied with her presentation of worthiness, we said a few words explaining the Gospel and invited her to our meetings.

Only one month later, the 35-year-old daughter and her whole family of four children obeyed the voice of Christ pleading. "Come unto me . . . and I will give you rest."

In her own words Rosa Rossetti, the daughter, tells her story:

    Before being saved, I used to think that God wasn't just, when some difficulty, offense, or heartache came into my life. Full of doubt with respect to God, I said: "What have I done to merit this punishment? Where is God?" I though of God only to make Him responsible for my misfortunes, not realizing that I was the guilty one.

I tried to be a good wife and a better mother, and in part I fulfilled my desires. But I was not happy. If I thought of death, an indescribable terror laid hold of me. At times I thought of God, and saw myself as guilty, and then I asked myself, "Where will I go when the hour of death arrives for me" Can God forgive my sins?" I tried in every way to justify myself, and convince myself  that they would be forgiven, but my heart always condemned me.    

One day my mother paid me a visit. She brought a letter from her pastor, for the pastor of La Carlota. With much fear she invited me to accompany her to the pastor's house to deliver the letter. I accepted joyfully, and we went. Mrs. Hoyt answered our knock at the door. We asked if she were the pastor's wife, and she said she was. My mother gave her the letter and she invited us in.

When she called her husband, who was in his study, I remember how he came hurriedly downstairs and kindly invited us to sit down. He asked  us many questions, and upon learning that I lived in this town, asked if they couldn't visit us. I gave consent outwardly, but inside I thought it would be better if they were not to come because I was ashamed of my old ugly house, which was always topsy-turvy because of the children. But on the other hand, I was happy to say "yes," because they were a kind couple.

A few days later—I remember it was a Sunday afternoon, as I was ironing—they arrived. I was unpresentable as well as my house, but I invited them in. In the course of the conversation Mr. Hoyt invited me to the meetings. I offered several excuses at first, but ended up by promising that I would go. A few days later I went, and have been going ever since.

One Sunday night, after the message I made a public confession of faith in Christ. Since then I realize that God is not unjust, but I, who spoke lightly of Him whom I knew not. Now I ask myself, "What did I do that God should choose to save me from among the thousands of lost ones?" My life has made a complete change. I am happy, I'm not ashamed of my house, just thankful to have it and offer it to Christ, as one day I gave Him my life.

Early family photo in La Carlota

Dad's article continued,

Rosita immediately had a desire to know all about the Word of God and to see others saved. Nor shall I forget the times she has spoken a word to the one beside her as the invitation was given. This desire for the salvation of souls is especially keen in relation to her relatives.

She wrote to her sister-in-law and received the following answer.

San Justo, Argentina
August 13, 1947

Dear Sister-in-Law and the Rest of the Family:

It is our desire that upon receiving this letter you will all be enjoying good health. We are all well, thanks to God . . . 

Well, Rosita, I received the package with the Bible and I thank you very much. Now I am going to tell you the truth. Our opinions are very different in respect to religion. See here, Rosita, we were brought up practicing the same religion—that which exists in our whole family, and for us there is no other religion than that which our fathers taught us to love and to respect since we were small. For us there is only one God and one church and that is the Catholic.

You were telling me that all they say in the Catholic church is a lie. It may be, but we could say the same about the Evangelical Church couldn't we? I do not want to argue about anything in the Evangelical Church. It may be very good, but for me there is only one religion, Rosita, and it is the Catholic. With that religion I was brought up. I have defended it, and I expect to follow it all my life For me there is no other religion, nor do I want my children to have another. I do not know what you will think but neither I nor Felix are willing to change religions. We are baptized. We have taken communion. We have married and we have our little daughter baptized and confirmed in the Catholic Church. Why should we change our religion now to be Evangelicals, which is a religion contrary to what we have practiced all our life.

No, Rosita, I am sorry that I must tell you we do not share your opinion. My husband says it is difficult for him to believe that you, above all others of the family, have made this decision.

I spoke to your brother, José, and he does not share your ideas either. He is a Catholic and doesn't care to know anything of the Evangelicals. He does right in defending his religion. Therefore we do the same. Do not take offense at what I have said. Everyone has his own ideas and I believe that is the only true liberty  we have in this life. If we could converse about these things we would have many points to touch, but it is better to put it to one side.

Furthermore, I will tell you that it has always been my great ambition to send Betty to the school of nuns where they practice the true Catholic religion. If God will, next year I shall be able to do it. 

With nothing more to say, and hoping that I have not offended you, I send you best wishes and kisses.

Anita 

Rosita responded immediately, assuring Anita that she was not angry or offended, only sorrowful and sad about their unwillingness to read the Bible and learn the truth.

I do not want to insist. I shall only add that if it is the purpose of God to save you by means of the Gospel, although you resist, He will save you. . .

Furthermore, I am not the only one who has understood that the religion of their fathers was not the best. Don't be so surprised, Felix, because father and mother were the first to understand. Odilia has also been convinced of the truth of the Gospel. . . 

The thirty-first of this month each of us who is studying in the Bible Institute here in Carlota will have a little part in the evening program. There will be three talks—one treating our state in sin, another, life eternal, and the last, the means of obtaining this eternal life or salvation by grace. The last topic is wonderful and will be my part. I am very happy. Perhaps I shall send you what I am going to say . . . 

Fifteen-year-old Odel added a note at the end urging his aunt and uncle to attend.

I also am baptized and confirmed in the Catholic Church, but I went to the Evangelical meetings just the same. You can do as I and you're not going to lose anything. To the contrary, you are going to gain. It will make you think very much.

Tragically, Felix died not long after in an explosion at work and his thirteen-year-old daughter also. She had just stopped by to bring him some refreshment, a mate (an Argentine beverage, like green tea). Such a deep, heavy loss for Anita who was left with a one-year-old daughter. She was a good woman. Only God, who sees the hearts, knows how she responded to the peace and comfort He offered her.

Rosita, or doña Rosa, was baptized in 1948 during the annual conference in Río Cuarto.

On the back of the photo:

Memory of the conference in Río Cuarto and of the day we passed through the waters of baptism, thus identifying with our Lord Jesus Christ.

February 10, 1948

When Amalia was only four, the family moved to Buenos Aires to join her grandparents. Once again our families were relatively close. She writes about visits to our home in Don Bosco. I referred to one of those times in the chapter titled 1954.

I have such happy memoreis of your family when you were in Don Bosco. Mom and I would go to your house because my mother used to sew and mend for your mother and I played with Lynn and Aldo, Pick-up-sticks I loved and many others I can't remember. And your mother made that delicious salad (seems I can still taste it) with lettuce, banana, sour cubed apples and that dressing, not make of mayonnaise but sweetened condensed milk, vinager and oil, so delicious! 

My brother Lynn in his hand-written memories, made mention of these friends. 

 Old Friendships

Because so many of our original friends in Buenos Aires had roots in the interior, we retained close ties with the interior people, so we had opportunities to visit in some of their homes.

One of those families who were especially dear to us as a family were the Anselmino/Rossetti/Tognoli family. The old folks, the Anselminos were the patriarchs of the family.

They all lived on another branch of the train line, which went through other towns and ended up at the same destination, La Plata. Early on Dad started a Bible study in their home. I often went with him, possibly because I was too much of a handful for Mother. We had to take the train to Plaza Constitución then come back on the other line, then take a bus to a destination about two blocks away from their home. I always enjoyed the visits there. 

They had a quaint living arrangement. The old folks lived in a little house in the middle of the lot, the Tognolis in the house at the back of the lot, and the Rossettis in the front of the lot. We had the Bible study at the Anselminos, as both Mr. Rosetti and Mr. Tognoli were not very interested in it. I usually played with the Rossetti's very young daughter, Amalia, who was about my age. Her brothers and sister were much older, in fact her sister had been my baby sitter in La Carlota where we lived the first two years of my life.

The Anselminos kept a vegetable garden which occupied every inch of the lot with the exception of the 18inch walkway which connected the living quarters.

My recollection of the trips over there were that they were long, the equipment was totally worn out, and there were at least three times as many people on the bus as would fit even with the least of comfort. The busses in those days were not only crowded, but, now that I know something about mechanics, I realize they would not even begin to pass a safety inspection; the clutch was worn to where there was almost no friction surface left, and the exhaust system was probably non existent.

My parents were privileged to attend Humberto and Dominga Anselmino's 50th wedding anniversary celebration, March 17, 1960, where several generations were present. 

A beautiful goal in life is to pass on the truth of the Gospel to the next generations. "We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might, and the wonders that he has done (Psalm 78:4)."

1956

 

    Many interesting facts and stories surfaced as I researched the year 1956 in the world, in Argentina and in our little corner of Don Bosco, in the province of Buenos Aires.

    Among the highlights of the year in Argentina, the name Juan Manuel Fangio stood out. It was familiar to me, but didn't mean much then. Fangio won the Argentine Grand Prix and the World Championship of Drivers five times, a record he held for 46 years. I better understand the significance of Fangio's win now that I live in Indiana, home of the Indy 500, also known as The Greatest Spectacle in Racing.

    Another surprise was that Rebel Without a Cause(1955) was showing in Argentina. James Dean died in a car accident shortly before his most celebrated film was released. He won two acting awards posthumously and has become a cultural icon of teenage disillusionment. 

    James Dean is a big name in our county because he was born and grew up here. In Fairmount, a nearby town, a large annual festival bears his name. Visitors come from all over the world to honor his memory. They visit the gravesite and the museum, the James Dean Gallery. His image and popularity seem to grow with time. Most recently, two gigantic art representations were installed in Fairmount, his hometown, and in Marion, his birth town. 

    From the long list of historical highlights, I chose a few more that may be of interest to some of us for a variety of reasons.

• January 8 - Operation Auca: Five missionaries killed by the Huaorani of Ecuador.
• January 28 - Elvis Presley's first television appearance.
• March 15 - "My Fair Lady" premieres on Broadway.
• May 1 - Jonas Salk's polio vaccine is made available to the public.
• July 30 - U.S. Congress joint resolution, signed by President Eisenhower, authorizes 'In God we                 trust' as the U.S. national motto.
• September 13 - the first commercial computer to use disk storage is introduced, the IBM 305                     RAMAC.
• October 15 - Fortran, the first modern computer language is shared with the coding community.
• October 17 - The Game of the Century, Bobby Fisher plays Donald Byrne in chess and wins a                     Brilliancy prize.
• November 13 - The U.S. Supreme Court declared Alabama segregated buses law illegal ending                   the Montgomery Bus Boycott.

    The first event on the list, stands out in my memory for the magnitude of its impact. Five young men purposed to reach an uncontacted tribe in the rain forest of Ecuador. For several months, they regularly flew over the area and dropped gifts which were then reciprocated. January 3, 1956, they set up camp on a sandbar along the Curaray River, a few kilometers from the people group they were attempting to evangelize. Their efforts came to an unexpected end when tribal warriors attacked and speared them.

    However, that was not the end of the story in God's book. The widows of these men did not lose hope or question God's direction for their families. Two women went back sometime later and lived among these unreached peoples and they were converted. Here is what one of the killers said, 

    Many books, articles, and films have been produced to represent the resulting impact of this event that shook the world and transformed untold numbers of lives.

    A quote by Jim Elliott, one of the five martyrs has oft been repeated.      

    Meanwhile in our little corner of Argentina, the family routines were similar from year to year. We traveled to summer camps, annual conference, and Dad had other important mission-related meetings in the interior as well. 

    Lynn and I attended the public school from March through November.

Lynn's third grade class

A school patriotic parade

 

My 6th grade class field trip to La Plata, 9.28.56

End of year photo with my teacher, Srta. Dina and the directora

    Mother certainly had her hands full keeping our guardapolvos (school uniforms) crisp white and starched in addition to all the household chores and church ministries. 

    
    This was the year of the Templo. Dad was once again immersed in a building program, and Mother always at his side, even involved in the actual construction at times. 

    Here is the story as Dad remembered it in his farewell address a few years later.    

Primera Etapa del Templo     The Temple - First Phase 

    El cinco de julio de 1956 esta iglesia recibió un regalo de la Sociedad Misionera, el lote para su templo. La única condición era que los creyentes se encargaran de levantar el templo. Con este desafío, los creyentes pronto aprobaron un plano y en el mismo mes de julio con la ayuda de Francisco Sparta y el Sr. Fischer se marcaron los cimientos. Luego fueron cavados por algunos jóvenes, el pastor y su señora.

    July 5, 1956, this congregation received a gift from the Foreign Missionary Society, a piece of land for the temple. The only condition was that the believers take charge of building the church. The believers took on the challenge and approved a blueprint and in that very month of July, with the help of Francisco Sparta and Mr. Fischer, laid out / marked the foundations. Some of the young people and the pastor and his wife dug the foundations. 

    Recordamos el 17 de agosto con gran placer porque unos cuantos amigos y hermanos de Mármol vinieron para ayudarnos a llenar los cimientos. Ancianos y jóvenes, mujeres y niños - todos trabajamos fuertemente y además de llenarse una parte de los cimientos, se pudo cavar para las bases de las tres columnas y armar el hierro correspondiente. Mirando una foto sacada el 17, descrubrimos que el baño quedó hecho antes de ese día también.    

    We remember August 17 with joy because several friends and believers from Mármol came to help us fill the foundations. Old and young, women and children - all worked hard and in addition to filling the trenches, were able to dig holes for the bases of the three columns and put together the corresponding iron frames. Looking at a photo taken that day, we realized that the bathroom had also been completed before that day 

    Con la ayuda de unos jóvenes, especialmente el hermano Angel Díaz, se siguió trabajando hasta levantar las paredes a una altura que nos hizo sentir nuestra necesidad de un albañil y con él seguimos hasta techar. Recordmos con agradecimiento el amplio andamiaje que nos prestó el Sr. Escala cuando llegamos a ese punto en la construcción. 

    With the help of some young folks, especially brother Angel Díaz, we continued working until the walls were at a point where we felt the need to hire a mason / bricklayer and kept him on until the roofing stage. We remember with gratitude the ample scaffolding that Mr. Escala loaned us when we got to that point in the construction/building.

 

   El día del techado tuvimos la colaboración de muchos. Por cierto, éramos pocos para hacer un trabajo tan grande y pesado, pero éramos unos cuanto más de lo acostumbrado.

    On roofing day we had the collaboration of many. We certainly were few for such a huge and heavy job, but we were more than usual. 

 

Brethren Missionary Herald, 11.03.56

    Ya que se aproximaba la Navidad, nos fijamos la meta de inaugurar el templo con el programa de Navidad. Había tanto que hacer que era para deseperarnos, pero diariamente seguimos adelante. Terminamos de cortar el hierro para las ventanas y el Sr. Allessándria las armó. Nos pusimos a colocarlas mientras el Sr. Rocobertón hacía las puertas. Así hicimos una cosa tras otra pero se nos acababa el tiempo. Llegó la víspera del día para el programa y hasta tarde quedamos colocando vidrios. Faltaban las luces y no las pudimos conectar hasta unas horas antes del programa, y para hacerlo tuvimos que pedir la corriente a un vecino. ¡Pero entramos - diciembre 23, 1956! El templo estaba sin revoque, sin piso, sin contra piso, ¡ambiente perfecto para celebrar el nacimiento humilde de nuestro Salvador! 

    Christmas was drawing near, so we set the goal of inaugurating the temple with the Christmas program. There was so much to do that it was overwhelming, however, we kept moving forward daily. We finished cutting the iron for the windows and Mr. Allessándria put them together. We installed them at the same time that Mr. Rocobertón was making the doors. Thus we accomplished one thing after another, but we were running out of time. The day before the program, we worked late putting in the glass. There were no lights and we were unable to connect them until a few hours before the program, and to do so we had to ask a neighbor for electricity. But we were in, December 23, 1956! The temple had no plaster, no flooring or subflooring, a perfect atmosphere to celebrate the humble birth of our Saviour! 

Inauguración del Templo

23 de diciembre de 1956

    I look at the group gathered that day and wonder where life took each one. Several, I know, are in heaven. Some of us have lived full lives, grateful for God's direction and faithfulness. 

    My parents laid down their lives in tireless labor and believed that God would give the harvest. 

    I am reminded of Jesus words, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit (John 12:24)."