Since my husband’s death it all seems changed. I cannot do as I used to do. Sometimes I spend the winter out in Iowa with Margaret and her married daughters; and I have spent a number of winters with Cora at Beaver Falls, now living at East Liverpool, Ohio. But when at home there is no regular gathering all together. Each one seems to want their own married children with them at their homes’ but when I am out West in Iowa my granddaughter, Mrs. O. H. Leonard, who lives at Cedar Falls, always has the Christmas dinner, and although her parents live sixty miles away, they never fail to have them there at that time, and I go from here and meet them at her home; and then Margaret’s youngest daughter, who married Dr. T. C. Stevenson, also lives at that place. My granddaughters each have two children, so that I have four great grandchildren in Cedar Falls, Iowa. Lucile Leonard is the oldest. She is a very nice girl. Her father is a banker, and he is a good Christian man who is beloved and respected by everyone. Mr. Stevenson is also a good highly respected man. He has a large practice, and is very successful as an osteopath, which is really coming to be considered the best system in the world. When I am with them they all do everything they can to make me comfortable and happy. My son-in-law, Mr. L. M. Bennett, is exceedingly kind to me and always has been. He takes me sleigh-riding everyday, and goes with me wherever I want to go. There is always plenty of snow in Iowa. One time he took me to spend the day with Mrs. Shepard Wilson. She had invited me to come on that day. It had turned very cold. It was 32 degrees below zero, but they did not tell me how cold it was until I was in the sleigh. But I reached her home all right, and had a very pleasant visit. I returned in the evening feeling fine after the ride in such good fresh air. My daughter and her husband generally remain with their children until the last of February, then return to their home in Brooklyn, Iowa, and I go to Albert Lea, Minn., to visit Mrs. Frank Preston Johnson, then go from there to Brooklyn to spent some time with Margaret at her home. I have been to Mrs. Johnson’s home three times. It is a lovely place to go. Her husband and their daughters are all so very kind and nice to me, and so pleasant to each other that one cannot help but feel happy in such a home. My son Thomas has three daughters living. Their first-born, Annie, a lovely girl, died just when she was seventeen, of brain fever. It was very sad. Just a week before she was taken ill she came with her father to attend our golden wedding. My husband and I had been married fifty years. I have always felt glad that she came. Her grandfather was sick in bed at that time; was not able to come to the table to eat with the company. They had surprised us by coming and bringing a fine supply of good things with them. My own children all came, together with my daughter Margaret from the West, which was the greatest surprise of all. None knew that she was coming, or that she was in Newark, as she went first to her cousin’s, Mrs. Edwin Haughey’s, and remained over Sunday until Monday evening—then came with them to the party.
She said it was very hard for her to remain there all that time—almost in sight of her home—and not come. She did not dare to go to church, or look out on the street for fear some one would see her and tell us and spoil the surprise. When she came home the house was full of guests. She hurried up stairs with the rest. I had not arrived home yet, as I had been invited to Mrs. Ferguson’s for tea. I said I would not go, as my children were all at home, so they all started to get their buggies, and Mattie said she would stay with her father. They urged me so strongly that I finally went. As soon as I was gone they began to make preparations for a good time. When I arrived at Mrs. Ferguson’s I found Mrs. Hoagland there, and they talked about everything that they thought would interest me. I saw no preparations for tea and it was getting dusk, so I said by way of a hint for Mrs. Ferguson to hurry up tea that I must go home early. But she sat still and talked until I could bear it no longer, and I said, “Mrs. Ferguson, if you want me to take tea with you, do get it out at once, for I must and will go home soon.” So she told her daughter to set up supper, and soon we were invited out, and such a tea, it was—tea and nothing else, only dry bread and butter, and a very small piece of cake. They sipped their tea, but ate nothing. I ate a few bites, but was disgusted with the whole thing, and soon said I must go home to my sick husband, but not without asking them both to go home with me. I thought they seemed quite anxious to go, and we started. When we stepped on our porch there was not a sound to be heard, the blinds were down, and everything was dark. I opened the door, the room was full, and they just yelled; but some one said “Go right up stairs and take off your things,” which we did. Then I said, “Well, you have all come,” and Margaret said, “Yes, Mother, we are all here.” I knew that voice, and I rushed to her and of course began to cry for the very unexpected joy. Then we all went down stairs, and she surprised her brothers and sisters and her father; and then as I spoke to the people one by one, I found our dear Brother Gardner, who had come from Columbus in honor of the occasion. Then we were marched out to supper. I could then see how it was that Mrs. Ferguson had sat me down to such a slim tea but it was all I had that night, for I was so excited I could not taste one bit, although they had roasted turkeys, boiled ham—good country ham, at that—cakes without number, and everything you could imagine. Then I was presented with a whole dinner and tea set of Haviland china. My children and friends, who had come in the forenoon and remained to dinner, were all present. They had not gone home, as they pretended to do. Mr. Magee, our preacher at that time, was quite ill—not able to be with us—for which I was very sorry, and Mr. O’Bannon’s illness was a source of great disappointment to all our family. I can never forget how poor Annie thought her grandfather was going to die, because he could not sit up, and I remember how she went into the pantry and cried, little thinking that she herself in two weeks would be lying cold in death. It is very sad, but our Heavenly Father knew best. She was a good Christian girl then, and I believe God took her from the evil to come. Her three sisters are all grown to womenhood. Mary Preston, the eldest, is married to Russel Seward and lives in Columbus. Ellen Snell, who was named for me, married Ralph Clouse and they also live in Columbus. The youngest girl, Emily Clarin, married James Timmons. They live in Zanesville. They have a sweet little daughter. While there are none of them rich, they are all good, steady, industrious men and the kindest and best of husbands.
My younger son, Oliver, who lives on the home farm, has two children—Nellie, who married Charles Moore, and lives in Bowling Green, and has two little boys, Kenneth and Charles; the other a son, William, named for his Grandfather O’Bannon. He is a good, energetic young man, and has never married. I only hope he may come to be as good a man as his grandfather.
My daughter Emily, wife of Levi C. Montgomery, lives on Bowling Green. They have one little son in Heaven and one here, whose name is Eugene. He is a nice boy, kind and affectionate in his disposition, and lovely to his grandmother.
My youngest daughter married John H. James. He was a lawyer. No children were born to them, but they adopted a nice little girl and called her Estelle Maude. She has always been a dear, good grandchild to me and a loving daughter. After a few years Mr. James died, and some years later Martha married Edward Hirst. They are living in Newark, and have a very pleasant and happy home. Maude is still with them. I am so thankful that I have my children. How could I live without them, now that I am old ?
My husband lived not quite two years after we celebrated our golden wedding. I well remember that last Christmas Day. He was quite well. All our children who lived in Ohio came with their families to spend the day at our home, as usual. It was a happy day for us all. Mr. O’Bannon seemed to enjoy it more than usual, but on the next Saturday he took cold and was taken with congestion of the lungs. He was able to be about the house most of the time, but after three short days he suddenly died—Jan. 2nd, 1893. I was all alone with him, and never thought of his illness being serious. His death was a terrible shock to us all. The doctor even did not seem to be alarmed; and no one realized that his death was so near at hand. He was a good, devoted husband and father, with always a kind word and a smile for everyone. He was very quiet and unassuming in his manner. He was a Christian, and I have no doubt but that he is in one of the mansions that Christ has prepared for those who love Him. He was greatly missed by all the family, but no one missed him as I did, for he was always at home—just we two together. How often I think of him, as I sit here alone, hour after hour, and wish he would come in as he used to do; but he will never come again. I shall soon go to meet him and my two little children and other dear ones who have passed away; but above all, I shall see the dear Savior who has done so much for me. Since my husband’s death I have rented part of my house, as I could not think of living here alone. I have had some very good, kind people with me, and I must mention Mr. and Mrs. Poundstone, who lived here one year. We spent many happy hours together, and since they moved to a home by themselves they have been ever kind and good to me, and helped me in many ways. I can never forget their kindness and love to me. But to go back to few years. In 1886 I attended the camp meeting at Lancaster for the first time, in company with Mr. and Mrs. John Montgomery and quite a number of others. Mr. George Taylor and Mr. Montgomery had bought a cottage together, and they invited all their friends to go along. They had two rooms up stairs. The back room had two bunks in it, which would accommodate four. Then they had two beds in the front room—four could sleep there. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery and I went on the cars, and we got the cottage fixed up. My son Oliver made a large boat and fitted it all up comfortably, and he and his wife and two children, Rebecca Channell, Mr. and Mrs. Ed Jones, my daughters, Martha and Cora, Maude James, Will Channell and Leon O’Bannon came in the boat on the canal. The water was low in some places, and they had a hard time getting there. I think it took them nearly two days. The women staid all night at a farm house near by. The men slept in the boat. When they arrived in the Camp Ground, they, with those who went on the cars, filled the cottage full. We had no extra beds, so all who could got into the two beds and the bunks, and the rest just laid down on the floor and used their arms for a pillow —the women up stairs and the men down. They had a hard time of it, as they were very tired. Cooking was a difficult matter, as we had no conveniences, and everybody was hungry; but one good thing, everybody brought a basket of cooked food so we managed to boil coffee. Those who came on the boat only remained two days, when they were glad to get in their boat and sail for home. But the meetings were good. Revs, Sam P. Jones and Sam Small were there some days, and the preaching was fine. I remember the first day Sam Jones was expected. The auditorium was packed; every foot of space was taken an hour before time for service. I never had such a curiosity to see a person in my life. He was coming on the train, and dispatches were sent on ahead, telling at what place he was. The superintendent came on the platform and said, “Sam Jones is in Lancaster and will be here soon.” Then he went away. It was very hot weather, and we were packed like sardines in a box. I remember how we sat and perspired. In a little while the superintendent came again and said, “Sam Jones is on the ground. “Then there was a buzz all through the audience, and they mopped their faces, applied their fans and took courage. Soon we saw a stir on the platform amongst the preachers, and there he was. I am sure if a spirit from the other world had stood there before us, we could not have gazed more curiously and earnestly than we did at Sam Jones. He walked to the front and stood for two minutes, then said, “Well, you have all had a good, fair, square look at me, now let us look away to Jesus for awhile.” That was just twenty years ago last August. I became so in love with Camp Meeting that before I left the grounds I bought a lot of Rev. Henry Gortner, paid twenty five dollars for it. The next year we had a tent on it, and my husband and I occupied it for several years, then we bought a cottage. While my husband lived we attended Camp Meeting together, and since his death I have never missed. For twenty years I have attended the meetings—not having failed once. It is a good place to be. The grounds are lovely. The people who go there are of the very best—the salt of the earth. The men who go there to preach are of the best talent in the United States. They are among the smartest, purest, grandest men on earth. O how I love Lancaster Camp Meeting! I cannot think of anything nice enough to say about it. And my little cottage how much solid comfort I have had in it. How much I have been strengthened and encouraged by those wonderful meetings. I do so desire to go there once more. But we know not what a day may bring forth. Mr. J. F. Kennard, who was superintendent of the grounds for so many years, passed away since we met last summer; also Miss Josie Hewitt, who was organist for years; and Mr. Chadwick, of Alexandria, a former superintendent; and Mrs. Dr. Benner, who has never failed to be there with her husband. She was very feeble last year. I was not surprised to hear of her death. Mr. Monroe, one of the trustees, was not well when he came to the grounds last year, suffered a stroke of paralysis during the meetings, and died a short time after removing him to his home in Columbus. And last, but not least, Rev. Sam P. Jones. How I loved to hear him preach. I can never forget his last sermon on the last night of the meeting. It was the most solemn sermon I ever heard. His appeal to the unconverted was remarkable. He uncovered the bad place, and told of the awful punishment of a lost soul. He always preached the true Gospel. His death will be a great loss all over the United States; but perhaps God needed him in the other world. I always think, when great and good men die, God has some place up yonder he wants them to fill, and he always raises up some other person that fits right in the place they left down here. When I go to Camp Meeting some one always goes with me. After my daughter Martha had duties at home which prevented her from going, my friend, Mrs. Mary Ferguson, and I went together for several years. How much we enjoyed living in the little cottage and going to the services. Mrs. Eliza Hanger went with me a number of times; a couple of times Miss Martha Pake was with me; then Mrs. Ballou accompanied me two years. Mrs. Bloomer went with me one year and enjoyed it very much. Last year, 1906, Josie Smith went along with me. It was the first camp meeting the last two spoken of had ever attended. It was new to them, but they liked it and enjoyed it very much. It was especially pleasant to go to the Lancaster Camp Meeting and meet so many of the preachers whom we had known in days gone by—some who had been our pastors and served us in our home church. How much we enjoyed meeting them. Brother Gardner, who is now in Heaven, had a cottage there. He had been our pastor three years. He and his dear good wife were very much beloved by the church, and those outside as well. The young people all loved him, and the older people were always happy in his company. We said when he left Newark we could never get anyone else whom we could all love half so well. I remember the church made a farewell for Brother Gardner, and a reception for the new preacher, who proved to be Rev. L. L. Magee. He, of course, was present. Short addresses were made by some of the members of the Official Board, in which they expressed their regrets at the departure of Brother Gardner and extended a welcome to the new pastor. Charles Seward a young lawyer, now Judge Seward, arose to make some remarks, and among other things, said, “We all feel sad at the departure of the dear pastor about to leave us, but we must take the bitter with the sweet.” After awhile Brother Magee arose to say a few words, a part of which were as follows: “The brother just remarked that we would have to take the bitter with the sweet. I suppose Brother Gardner is the sweet and I am the bitter.” Of course, everyone laughed, and the joke was on Brother Seward. But we soon came to think everything of Brother L. L. Magee. He was a comparatively young man—not married. He was a fine preacher. He had a great revival in our church the first year. Quite a number—over a hundred—were converted. He did a great deal of good, and received a great many into the church. He worked hard, beyond his strength, and was taken with “La Grippe;” was not well for a long time—part of the time not able to preach; but he always seen to it that his place was well supplied, so that the church did not suffer loss. He served us faithfully five years. He was a good man, and did a great work in our church. We all loved him, and felt badly to see him leave, but he had served his time and had to go. He has since married a lovely woman, who is a great help to him and to the church. He is now at Mt. Vernon Avenue church, Columbus, Ohio.
I should say here, that while Brother Gardner was in Newark, Mrs. Gardner organized the Woman’s Home Missionary Society at her home. The date was March 5th, 1888. There were just ten ladies present: Mrs. Gardner, Mrs. Ferguson, Mrs. Atherton, Mrs. Ellen O’Bannon, Mrs. Veach, Mrs. Hallisey, Mrs. Theurer, Mrs. Williams, Mrs. Ashbrook, and— The following ladies were elected officers: President—Mrs. Rebecca Hallisey. First Vice President—Mrs. Ashbrook. Second Vice President—Mrs. Gardner. Third Vice President—Mrs. Oldride Williams. Recording Secretary—Mrs. Mary Ferguson. Corresponding Secretary—Mrs. Louisa Atherton. Treasurer—Mrs. Theurer.
The Children’s Mission Band was organized at the same time, and Mrs. Ellen O’Bannon was appointed as superintendent. All the ladies present at the meeting were charter members. Mrs. Atherton, Mrs. Mary Ferguson and myself are the only charter members now left in the society. After Brother Magee was sent away, Rev. Chas. C. Elson as appointed to our church. He had just returned from the Theological School in Boston. He was one of the purest and most perfect Christian men I ever met. All the best people in the church loved him. He was faithful in all his service to the church. He had the love and esteem of all the young people; they and all the older people loved to hear him preach. I can never forget how we sought the presiding elder just before conference to return Brother Elston to our charge, as he had only been with us two years. He went to conference at Washington Court House, and fully expected to return; but in the final adjustment of the appointments some man was needed for the Church at Lancaster, and the presiding elder of the district wanted Brother Elson. Our presiding elder, seeing the difficulty of the situation, finally consented to the change; and when Brother Elson returned next morning it seemed that nearly everybody in the whole church knew of the change in a few hours. His wife was a lovely Christian lady, and filled her place in every department of the church. She was a preacher’s wife in every sense of the word. Her sister, who lives with her, is a good Christian girl, and is giving her life and strength for the good of others and for the church. Brother Elson and family have served the church at Lancaster for ten years, which speaks more for them than any words that I can think of. They have always been exceedingly kind and nice to me, and I remember them among my best and most loved friends. I have visited them every year during their stay in Lancaster, usually in the summer when I go to camp meeting. It was during one of these visits that Brother Elson took us a drive to see the Boys’ Industrial School, six miles south of the city. We went in a surrey, drawn by a fine large horse; and when we had come to the top of one of the hills we saw a traction engine coming not far off. We women refused to stay in the surrey, and before Brother Elson could prevent it, we all jumped out. A man came and led the horses past the engine and then he asked us women whether he should lead us past, too. When we got to the school we were shown around the institution, and I thought it was fine. In one of the older buildings the rats were running to and fro in broad daylight, and I was so scared I suppose I acted dreadfully. At any rate, I screamed so loud that some of the employees came running to see what was the matter. But I never did like rats, and I couldn’t bear to have them be as familiar as they were there.
Rev. Thomas R. Taylor was our presiding elder at this time; but he has retired from the work on account of ill health, and lives in his own comfort able home in Columbus. He has been a faithful servant of the Lord for many years.
Rev. Arthur E. Johnson was our next pastor. He served our church acceptably for five years. He brought many into the church, and did much good, but he was not strong—the work was too heavy for him—he was breaking down. He left and went with his family to California, and is doing a good work there. His health is improved. In fact, he is now quite well. His wife is a devoted Christian lady, and a beautiful character. They have two young daughters; they had other children but the Lord had taken them to Himself. Rev. Frank McElfresh has been our elder for the past five years. His father was one of our preachers at Bowling Green when Frank was a boy. He used to come to our house with his father.
Rev. L. C. Sparks is our preacher at this time. He and his brother, Rev. L. B. Sparks, both lived with us when they were boys in their teens. They were good boys, but little did I think then that Frank would be my presiding elder, and “Billy,” as we called him then, would be my pastor; but strange things happen in these days. Rev. McElfresh is a fine preacher, and Rev. Sparks is the best preacher in the town of Newark. He has never preached a poor sermon since he came here, and is a man that no one can speak anything against. This is his fifth year, and I am sure it will be hard to part with him if he should have to go this fall. His wife is faithful to the church and does all that her health will permit.
The dear old Methodist Episcopal church on the corner of Fourth and Church streets, where so many have been born into the kingdom—some of whom are in heaven today, others on the way—is one of the dearest spots on earth to me, and some of the dearest and best people attend that church. I love them all. Then there is the Sunday School in which I spent so many happy hours with my class of girls whom I taught so many years. I can never tell how dear they are to me. Some have married and have homes of their own; others have gone to other parts. Some are now teachers of classes. They were all good girls. I can never forget them and their kindness to me. I have every reason to be thankful and glad that I ever came to America—this free and happy country. How I have enjoyed it all, and especially living in Newark, Ohio, where there are so many good, generous- hearted Christian people; also, being connected with the dear old Methodist Episcopal church, where I have received so much good, and have such a host of true, warm-hearted friends, who always treat me with the greatest respect and kindness.
I do not believe in fortune-telling, but I can never forget once when a small girl in England, going to the baker’s shop for some bread. The young girl who kept the store said to me “Don’t you want to read your fortune?” I said “O, yes! “She had something that you turned around. It was full of papers folded up, and wherever it stopped as it turned you could open the paper and read your fortune. I turned it and opened the paper at which it pointed, and this is what I read: “Far across the seas will be your fate.” I remember I laughed and said, “Well, we know that can never come true.” That was before my father thought of coming to this country.
And now as I close this little sketch of my poor imperfect life, and as I look over it all, I see nothing good in myself, but every day my heart is filled with gratitude and thankfulness to my Heavenly Father for His goodness to me. How many times He has answered my prayers; He has delivered me in temptation; He has protected me in time of danger; He has comforted me in sorrow; He has redeemed me with His blood. I have had much more of sunshine than cloud. He has provided for my wants, given me every needed good, and let me live to a ripe old age. He has blessed me with a very good degree of health, for which I am thankful. “Surely goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life,” and I can truly say that “all things have worked together for my good; and if I may but hear Him say at last, “well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joys of thy Lord,” I shall praise Him throughout a never ending eternity.
I am eighty-three years old and past—
The years have glided away so fast;
How little I’ve done for my dearest friends,
And now I’m nearing my journey’s end.
If I could look back on a life well spent—
Of the good I had done as I came and went,
If I had been faithful in serving the Lord,
Done more to help others and more for His cause.
When I think of the opportunities lost,
Of my sins of omission, and what they have cost,
It brings to my heart a pang of regret,
For duties neglected I can, never forget.
Could I live my live over, what a change I would make!
How I would look out for Satan, sin and mistakes;
How much I would do that I left undone,
How much I’d undo of what I have done.
But the time has gone by, and can never return;
The mistakes we have made in our memories will burn.
Though it all be forgiven, and our peace with God made,
Our influence still lives while we lie in our graves.
But Jesus our Savior looks down from above,
With heart full of tenderest pity and love;
He knows how we struggle and try to be good,
And he covers our failures with His own precious blood.
Many years have gone by since I gave all to Him,
Renouncing the world with its follies and sin,
Taking Jesus the Savior for my dearest friend,
To love, serve and trust Him even unto the end.
God may give me a little more time here below,
And I want to do good wherever I go;
Live more to his honor than I have in the past,
And give Him the glory while my life here shall last.
Ellen S. O’Bannon 