Oberlin College - Hi-O-Hi Yearbook (Oberlin, OH)

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RIQY. CHARLICS HENRY CHURCHILL

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Reminiscences of Charles Henry Churchill By His Son Alfred HE modern educator dreams of a life which shall bring the body, the intellect, the emotions and the will into harmonious action. Such was my father's boyhood. His home was an ample farm with a pebbly brook, where the boy built a dam and a water-mill twith a trip- hammer attachment and came within a hair of being apprenticed to a mill- wright in consequencej. In the village was a long hill with a full half mile of straight coasting in winter. tDoes not that make an 1 Jberlin boy's mouth wateril Near by was the Connecticut Rivergfhe built his own sail boat and could sail back and forth from his home to Meriden Academy or to Dartmouth: and there were endless woods and trapping and hunting and swimming. horses, cows, sheep, dogs, squirrels, birds and snakes. llut the social aspects of life were not less favorable. The little New Hampshire town was a microcosm containing souls of every degree of magni- tude and meanness. There is a story of epic breadth about the boy's father. A heavy boat was to be raised. There were four strong men In do the work, and they placed their shoulders to the hulk. At the critical instant they were seized with panic, feeling the boat about to fall on them. Three gave back to escape black death, but one stayed to the task. Cowie un. he groaned and bore the weight alone. Tlack. from pure shame, rushed the three, and the boat was heaved into place: but grandfather's arm was broken. If that story had been told by Plutarch it might have been a favorite with boys in every land. Sunday was a great day on the farm. The neighbors came for miles around to the village church and heard good sermons of a length that no modern congregation could tolerate. The close of the morning service saw a gathering of leading spirits at grandfathers house to dinner, and theology and slavery were leading courses. Thus the children got to know the bright- est men and women in that part of the world. Un winter nights while the boy whittled. or drew, or modeled heads rin spruce gumj in front of the big Hre place, his mother used to stretch his imagination by telling him stories or reading grand passages of poetry- Homer or Byron. Think of those long winter nights with the roaring tire and poetry and pleasant converse, and with nuts and cider and roasted apples to fill the pauses and the healthy young stomachs! The teacher of the village school was a remarkable woman. Vtfe have 25