Next | 1. New York | 2. Virginia | 3. Ohio | 4. Kansas | 5. California | 6. Dakota | 7. Africa | 8. England Contact Ron | Foreword | Preface | Index | Tellout
8B. English and Welsh Friends 
When I next came to England, I was heralded as "Ia Sunke Inyanke" or Running Horse. This was an honorary name given me while working on the Sioux reservation. The children knew I was coming but suddenly, when they least expected it I charged in, cloaked in a blanket and with Indian bead work dangling around my neck. They enjoyed trying the hooting war cries and faltering tribal dancing with me. Then they settled down to listen to a story about my Red Indian Christian brothers across the seas. Stories of Noisy Hawk, Blacklance and others on the reservations in Dakota left them spellbound!
After summer work with the children and holiday crowds was over, I joined a month-long preaching mission in a coal mining town in Northern England. The mine owner, who was a devout Christian, witnessed to his faith and encouraged us to do the same. Dressed in heavy overalls, a steel helmet and carrying a brass lantern, I stepped into the mine elevator cage and dropped like a stone to the coal face. The shattering noise of the cutting machines and clouds of choking dust down there made communication nigh on impossible. Later in the relative calm of the canteen I chatted over lunch with some of these tough working people. We had very different occupations and ideas about faith in Christ.
Hope in Liverpool
From this coal mining town in Northern England my next destination was the port of Liverpool. The city was still clearing away after the bombing of the Second World War, but on the hilltop stood two large cathedrals built in modern times. In this city, Protestant and Catholic have so often clashed. Ironically, the soaring Roman Catholic concrete tower stands at one end, and the majestic traditional Anglican building at the other end of an avenue called "Hope Street." Its name perhaps enshrines a future dream.
In the city's docks, Captain Ken Weaver visited seamen on ships from many countries to share with them his own hope and trust in Jesus Christ. I went aboard several vessels. One was from India but only a few of the sailors understood any English. Loaded with literature, a record player and records in many languages, we clambered up a rope ladder. We then sought out an Officer for permission to visit the men. Initially, they viewed us with suspicion. When they heard in their own Indian dialect a Bible reading backed by traditional melodies on record, their faces lit up. They excitedly clamoured to hear "a little bit of home."
Rescue Missions
Ken Weaver also had a love for the "down and outs" in the rescue missions of Liverpool. One night, we held a gospel service in a tiny mission hall in a slum area of the city. Ken was making the final appeal. A bedraggled character interrupted suddenly and said, I took one of your Gospels and have slept with it under my pillow every night! Amused at this strange statement, Ken replied with a grin, "It will do you no good there, pal!"
After the meeting, two young fellows from Southern Ireland, depressed because they couldn't find work or a place to stay came over to talk to us. During the conversation, I suggested they made their needs known in prayer to Jesus, so that He could help them. One, being a staunch Roman Catholic, insisted on bringing in the Virgin Mary. Anxious about being sidetracked, I explained, "He does not have time to talk about her now!" Bewildered, he muttered, "No time for da blessed Mary?"
Condemned in Durham Prison
I did have time, however, to talk about the Lord Jesus with the inmates of Durham Prison. That Sunday morning as I was about to go into the Chapel to preach, the Chaplain unexpectedly drew me to one side. "Captain, you better know this," he said. "There is a man with us today who is awaiting execution! You can't see him but he'll be behind the curtains to the left of you." My heart was heavy, thinking about this one so close to meeting his Maker. Earnestly I prayed as I preached "Oh that this one man will hear your voice, O Lord. Perhaps he might make a last minute commitment to Christ like the thief on the Cross." Drained in Spirit, I descended from the pulpit having preached my heart out to a hidden stranger behind a curtain.
Luxury Liner "United States"
My preaching mission over, I traveled to Southampton to board the luxury liner "United States" bound for New York. Soon after we sailed, I introduced myself to the ship's Captain and was pleased when he asked me for my help during the five-day trip. So, the following Sunday morning I hurried eagerly to take a service in the ship's luxurious first class lounge. Everyone aboard had been welcomed to attend, and it intrigued me to discover what the first class was really like! A fine group of musicians more used to quicksteps and sambas led several hundred passengers in songs of praise that day. "We all belong to one class before God!" I told them. "In Christ alone is our hope of glory!"
There must have been many very rich people listening then who were like a certain New York banker I heard about. To escape the burdens of life he took a trip on a Mississippi steamboat. He overheard a Negro worker humming quietly to himself as he vigorously mopped the deck. "I don't understand it" he told him. "Here you are, scrubbing and cleaning all day long, and yet you are so happy!" Placing his hand on his heart, he replied simply, "You know, the secret of Jesus is here. He gives me the glory!" Moved by this simple yet radiant life, the banker later sat and penned the following poem.
Oh, you got to get a glory in the work you do, A Hallelujah Chorus in the heart of you.
Paint or tell a story, sing or shovel coal, Oh, you got to get a glory, or your job lacks soul.
Oh Lord, give me a glory. Is it much to give? For you got to get a glory, or you just don't live.
The great whose shining glory makes our pulses throb are the men who got a glory in their daily job.
For those who get a glory, it's like the sun, And you can see it glowing through the work they've done.
Now fame is transitory, and riches fade away, but when you got a glory, it's there to stay.
0 Lord, give me a glory, on the Christian side, or you've got to get a glory . . . or you're dead inside!"
"You've gotta have a glory in the things you do, an alleluia chorus in the heart of you" 
