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Wall Street Day 12
My sales skills again came in useful later that summer. A group of cadets went to Brooklyn and New York for a house-to-house visitation campaign. Some doors opened a few inches, or a pair of eyes appeared through a letter box. When we asked, "Have you a church home, sir?," some Jewish immigrants, remembering the holocaust in Nazi Germany replied with fearful tones, "Ve ave no church ome!" A Roman Catholic householder thought that the Priest had sent for a donation and handed me a dime! Someone whispered through another letter box, "We are Protestants!" Then with great secrecy, as if to warn me of some impending threat, added, "There are CATHOLICS next door!"
Later, on Wall Street, we addressed ourselves to Catholic and Protestant alike. I had often listened to midday open air services there but now I was to take part myself. Resplendent in our dark gray uniforms, we proudly marched out onto Broadway from behind Trinity Church's great iron gates. One cadet carried the church's ornate processional cross, another the Stars and Stripes, while I again held aloft the crimson crusaders' shield. We really did feel like soldiers on the march, until the size of the milling crowds suddenly hit us. Thousands of office workers were relaxing, having time out during their lunch break to hear the speakers. At the old Sub-Treasury Building, George Washington stared down icily from his marble pedestal. Beneath his critical eye, Daddy Hall, a famous open air preacher, was still speaking. Seeing our uniforms and banners, he turned and shouted, "Here comes Cox's Army!"
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