Project Canterbury









Transcribed by Wayne Kempton
Archivist and Historiographer of the Episcopal Diocese of New York, 2008







The Hospital of the Good Shepherd, a Mission of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the district of Arizona, which thirty years later was to become "the Good Shepherd Mission to the Navajo", had its actual inception on the great Navajo reservation in 1894. Several events, however, led up to this 'inception', and we may also go back even further and find its roots in two great humane and spiritually-directed institutions, and in the inspired personalities of those who were their life. One of these institutions, although semi-political in its framework, was none the less completely benevolent in its purpose; the other, manifestly religious in purpose, was none the less practical in its methods and most efficient in what it sought to accomplish.

These institutions were: "the Indian Rights Association" and "the Westchester, N. Y. Branch of the Woman's Auxiliary to the Board of Missions of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the U. S. A." The 'personality' behind the first was Mr. Herbert Welsh, and the 'personalities' behind and in and through the second were the Misses Jay, Miss Fanny Schuyler, and their associates and successors.

Herbert Welsh and the Indian Rights Association

Herbert Welsh, publicist, humanitarian, artist, was born in Philadelphia December 4, 1851. He was one of the early pioneers to espouse the cause of the Indian, at a time when that 'cause' was most unpopular. The Indian was not supposed to have any 'rights'. But in spite of this, Herbert Welsh kept on and his interest was more deeply aroused by a visit to Bishop William Hobart Hare of the Sioux country of South Dakota in 1882. With Mr. Welsh went his friend Henry S. Pancoast, a lawyer. At just this time word had come from Washington that a scheme was on foot to confiscate about eleven million acres of land in the 'great Sioux reserve', without the consent of the Indians. Naturally the Sioux were greatly aroused, but fortunately, and we may truly say 'providentially', under intelligent and sympathetic Missionary influence and guidance, many of these people had already become Christians, having "made progress on the 'Jesus road'". Bishop Hare was indeed their friend and spiritual advisor and he suggested that the Indians consult two young men, friends of his, one of whom was a lawyer. This they did, and when these young lawyers returned to Philadelphia, they began to spread information about the situation, and to seek the best methods of producing such public feeling and congressional action as would secure to our Indian population in general civil rights and education . . . . And in time would bring about the complete civilization of the Indians and their admission to citizenship. This was a long look ahead, but in the meantime, as a result of their efforts . . . . These two young lawyers, Herbert Welsh and Henry Pancoast, undertook the organization of "the Indian Rights Association", a non-sectarian, non-partisan organization, to be supported by voluntary contributions of friends. (Adapted from publications of the "I. R. A.")

As our story of the Good Shepherd Mission unfolds, we shall be able to realize the value and far-reaching importance of Mr. Welsh's activities, not only for the association as a whole, but especially for the beginnings and early development of our Mission. His entire career runs in a contemporaneous line with the first thirty years of our work at Fort Defiance.

[2] The Westchester Branch of the "Woman's Auxiliary"

This organization is one of the outstanding Missionary societies of modern times, at least in this country. Created by act of the General Convention in Baltimore in 1871, and under the manifest guidance of god, it has been increasingly one of the mightiest channels of spiritual dynamic in the church today. The influence of this society, and its power, have been especially expressed in the personality of many of its leaders. From the three sisters Emery onward, the light of individual Christian lives has shone forth in the work of the national society, and the same thing has been true in the experience of many diocesan, county and parochial branches of this living organism of Christian service. Among these witnessing leaders the churchwomen in and about New York City have been most active in their Missionary interest. So it happened that on a memorable day in the year 1888, a meeting was held at the residence of Mrs. John C. Jay in New York. Miss Cornelia Jay presided, assisted by Miss Fanny Schuyler. It was then resolved to inaugurate the work of the "Woman's Auxiliary" in the parishes of Westchester County, the association to be known as the "Westchester Branch of the Woman's Auxiliary to the Board of Missions". Delegates were present from the parishes of Rye, Rochelle, Port Chester, Westchester, White Plains, St. John's and St. Paul's Yonkers, Irvington, Pelham, St. Paul's Sing Sing, Mount Cisco, Scarsdale, St. Mark's Tarrytown, Pelhamville, Wilmot and Montrose. A board of managers was elected, among the members being Miss Schuyler. Miss Cornelia Jay was continued as president, or "chairman". The first "county" meeting was held at Rye, a large number of delegates attending. Archdeacon Van Kleeck was asked to preside, and many clergy were present to represent "home missions". It was evident from the start that this group was to be especially interested in Indian Missions. The fact that Miss Schuyler was a personal friend of Mr. Herbert Welsh may have had something to do with this.

The contribution of "personality" to the efforts of this great organization of "the Woman's Auxiliary" was to be continuously manifested in the almost "apostolic succession" of the chairmen of the Westchester branch; here is the line--(not quite up to date):

Miss Cornelia Jay
Miss Fanny Schuyler
Mrs. Samuel Thorne
Miss Janet Waring
Mrs. Wright B. Haff
Miss Laura Boyer
Mrs. C. Helme Strater

(The above account of the "W. A." is adapted from a letter or report by Miss Fanny Schuyler, as chairman of the Westchester Archdeaconry Committee, October, 1908)




The Rt. Rev. George Kelly Dunlop was practically the pioneer Bishop of the great jurisdiction of the Episcopal Church which included Arizona and New Mexico. He served from 1880 to 1888, and was succeeded by the rugged and devout saint of God, the Rt. Rev. John Mills Kendrick. Born in Ohio in 1836, he was educated in New York and intended to become a lawyer. But at the outbreak of the civil war, responding to his country's call, he did not hesitate to enlist, and joined General Nelson's division, soon becoming a first lieutenant and afterwards serving on Nelson's staff. His army career was brief but filled with activity and excitement until he was made a prisoner of war just before the conflict ended. The war being over he decided to study for the ministry of his church and, returning to Ohio, he entered Bexley Hall, the divinity school of Kenyon College in Gambier. After graduation and ordination he served for a number of active years in Ohio, and at one time was the General Missionary of the diocese. It was while he was in temporary charge of Trinity Church in Columbus, which expected to call him regularly as rector that he was elected Bishop of New Mexico and Arizona by the General Convention of 1888, and was consecrated in January of 1889 in the church he had just been serving. He said at the time that he would have to look up his new field on the map to see exactly where it was! He was not long in becoming decidedly familiar with the whole region, and built for himself a wonderful career as a pioneering Missionary and a veritable "father in God".

Seven months after his consecration the new Bishop presided over his first district Convocation, which met at Santa Fe on September 3 and 4, 1889. In the course of his address he said, "the Indian problem has presented itself most distinctly, and has been most carefully considered. There seems to be an opportunity to do something in this direction, but the matter is not yet right for exploitation. For the present I must sit with closed doors on this subject". This was a somewhat mysterious statement and it is not quite evident what he meant by it. The most probable solution would seem to be that he wished to wait until he had personally visited the Indian country and could secure firsthand information to impart. The opportunity to do this came very soon when he did make a visit to Fort Defiance, the agency of the Navajo reservation, taking with him the Rev. Henry Forrester, who had recently come to Albuquerque, N. M. from Colorado. It was their first visit, in fact the first of several that these two ardent Missionaries made together in the Indian field. They were most cordially received by the agent, a Mr. Vandever, and his staff, and on that very evening they held a service in the government school, attended by the teachers and other white employees. It is more than likely that at least a few Indians were present, for he reports having a conversation with some of them, by the help of an interpreter. On leaving, the Bishop was earnestly urged to come again, and he promised to do so.

And now two familiar characters make their entrance on the stage of the drama that is unfolding before us. Mr. Herbert Welsh of the Indian Rights Association, who had recently made several excursions into the far-flung Indian country of the "great west", writes to his friend, Miss Fanny Schuyler and says that he is soon to start for the Navajo reservation about the 20th of April, 1890. Again on May 31st he writes to her and tells her about this most interesting and successful visit among the Navajos, which had included a three hundred mile trek on horseback. Moreover, he is preparing to make several addresses about his trip, and adds, "I have many things to talk to you about when we meet. I can only say now that I am more than ever impressed with the great needs of these people." The needs he refers to are evidently those of a moral and religious nature, for Mr. Welsh was a "churchman" and a real Missionary at heart. So it was that during the next twelve months things began to happen, and in cooperation with Bishop Kendrick plans were made to inaugurate definite Indian Mission work.

These plans were a bit slow in developing, as we shall see. The Bishop in his second address before Convocation, which was held October 1, 1890, referred to his visit to Fort Defiance the year before and added that he expected to make another visit immediately after this Convocation. However, the pressure of his duties in his vast field prevented his making the intended trip, for at Convocation a year later, [3/4] in September, 1891, he made no report of such a visit but did say, "I am in hopes that some Indian work will soon come to us in a practical shape". Meantime Mr. Welsh had written to Miss Schuyler under date of June 19, 1891, and had said, "I will go to work shortly to find a man for the Navajo Mission work." It seems that plans were being perfected by the Indian Service for re-organizing the government school at Fort Defiance, and the Bishop and Mr. Welsh had planned together to conduct Mission work in connection with the school. There was some delay in the plan as a whole because of a counter proposition of opening up work at Keem's Canyon among both the Navajo and the "Moqui" people, there being already at that place a well established government school and the possibility of securing land and putting up a house for a Missionary, if one could be found. This project, however, was not carried out, or we might never have had a "Hospital of the Good Shepherd", at least not at Fort Defiance, and the original plan was continued, to begin as soon as the right man could be secured. It was Bishop Kendrick who found this man. He was a Mr. George H. Wadleigh, a former real estate man of Los Angeles, who was at the time employed by the Presbyterian Church at their Indian school near Tucson, although he himself was an Episcopalian. The Superintendent of this school, the Rev. Mr. Billman, recommended Mr. Wadleigh as faithful, reliable, of good business habits and interested in the Indians; a man of character and decision and fitted to be the head of a school, and who "would not lose his grip." Excellent recommendations were also received from other sources. The selection was put up by the Bishop to both Mr. Welsh and Miss Schuyler, and although another man was also being considered, it was decided to invite Mr. Wadleigh to come, more or less on trial, as it seems.

In this appointment there was an apparently happy co-ordination between the Bishop and Mr. Welsh and Miss Schuyler on the one hand, and the government on the other, as represented by the Commissioner of Indian Affairs. By this it was agreed that Mr. Wadleigh was to have a dual position and responsibility, that is as Superintendent of the government school and as Missionary of the Episcopal Church, and to this position he was appointed. He arrived at Fort Defiance in the early spring of 1892, and began at once his work at the school before he attempted Missionary activity. Bishop Kendrick in a letter to Mr. Welsh written on May 11th explained Mr. Wadleigh's position, which appeared to be a bit uncertain. He said, "the situation as to Mr. Wadleigh would seem to be this then: the (Indian) department needed a teacher at Fort Defiance, and as they were not ready for us, they sent Mr. Wadleigh to the school at the agency. While it is true that Mr. Wadleigh has no connection with us at present, he is gaining knowledge and experience that will be useful to us after a while." There appear to have been, however, some difficulties and complications about government work among the Indians, which only the Indian Commissioner fully understood, and furthermore, there was a lingering apprehension that a combination of the government and the church in such matters had not proven any too successful in other places. In fact, in the letter of the Bishop to Mr. Welsh just quoted, he continues: "Dr. Dorchester (the Superintendent of Indian education) says that Bishop Hare in South Dakota is drawing out of relations with the government as fast as possible, and the Methodists are doing the same. But perhaps we better work with the government till a change of administration upsets our plans."

Meantime Mr. Wadleigh, who seemed to know how to make effective approaches to the Indians in his teaching, which might later be applied to Missionary work, wrote to Bishop Kendrick asking for a stereoptican, which would cost about fifty dollars. After considerable discussion with others on the subject, the Bishop was able to comply with Mr. Wadleigh's request and secured the money for the lantern. Soon after, in June (1892), he made a memorable visit to the government school and held a service, preached, baptized a child and celebrated the Holy Communion. In his congregation he had most of the white people of the agency beside boys and girls of the school and some of the older Indians. Among the ten who received the Holy Communion were six communicants of the Episcopal Church. In the afternoon he spoke to the children, whom Mr. Wadleigh had organized into a Sunday school. Speaking about this visit later, the Bishop said: "it was pleasant to find so many church people here: Mr. Wadleigh, the Superintendent, Mrs. Wadleigh, Miss Egan (a nurse), and Miss Des Brisay." Inspired by this occasion, he wrote to some of the Westchester ladies, who had been hoping to do something definite in a Missionary way among the Navajos, and urged them to take up this school, adding, "there is much that is needed for the efficiency of this school that the government does not supply." How true these words of the Bishop were, and how prophetic, was to be revealed many times in the experience of "the Hospital of the Good Shepherd" soon to be [4/5] born. With all due respect for our Indian department and its educational progress today, and with all due appreciation of the present excellence of our government schools, it is still evident that "there is much that is needed that the government does not (and can not) supply." And this is just what the church has supplied in its various branches to a great degree, although by no means perfectly. In the various Mission schools and similar organizations the home touch, and even more the spiritual touch, do make a difference in the lives of Indian children who come under their influence; and this is notably true in our work on the Navajo reservation. Comparing groups of government school children with similar goups of Mission children; this difference is evident in their faces and in their general manner and appearance.

Now to continue our story: Mr. Wadleigh entered into his new activities with enthusiasm and apparent understanding, although, he was well aware of the difficulties to be encountered. Writing to Bishop Kendrick under date of Sept. 25, 1892, he says: "I see that here is the place for the church work to be done, supplemental to the government work, but aiding and forwarding that work; while the government authority supporting the school gives position and authority that is very essential; the evident desire of the Indian office to help the school, the interest it exhibits in the Navajos, and its willingness to further all my plans, provided they don't call for too much money--these things encourage me. The (our) work is all extra and independent of the government, and for the purchase of necessary material we will rely on outside aid." He then speaks with characteristic enthusiasm of Miss Egan, (a communicant of the church mentioned above), whom the government had secured as a teacher, and who had come from Pine Ridge, S. D. Then he goes on to express the need of a male employee as a 'disciplinarian', especially to control the boys when outside the class room. He says that the government cannot at present supply such an official, great as is the need of one, but "it is possible the ladies of Westchester Co. may want to send this man to us." Continuing, he mentions a somewhat different suggestion as to these ladies, which is that they send a medical Missionary for which he says the work is not ready. Still he realizes that it would be a good thing to have such a Missionary, if the Westchester people would pay his salary. This suggestion was not carried out, but it was prophetic of the greater work of a regular hospital which was to come in the near future.

Mr. Wadleigh shows his constructive, forward-looking ideas when he says in this same letter that he is planning to introduce at the school improved methods of carding and spinning the wool for the rug making "as calculating to interest and help these Indians and as a most promising way of aiding us in acquiring an influence over them." He adds that Dr. Dorchester thinks favorably of the plan. It is safe to say that however admirable it might have appeared, the plan could never have been carried out in that day and generation. To separate a Navajo woman from her hand-methods of preparing her wool would soon have been found most undesirable, if not quite inconceivable. Another plan he was hoping to carry out, and did carry out to a certain extent, was to find time and opportunity for visiting the natives in their own hogans, an excellent idea in itself; but if he hoped by this method to "cultivate them, encourage them to better ways of living, and to lessen by familiar contact their prejudice against the school." He would soon find that it would be a slow process. In fact he had much to learn about these people, and he did learn a good deal, for in a letter to Miss Schuyler of July 27th, He says: "the parents are adverse to sending their children to the school, and the constant record of change and failure (at the agency) has furnished them the best reasons and arguments for their prejudice. But Indians intuitively seem to measure our sincerity, and so long as we are true to God and our duty as it is made plain, they'll know it and will trust us; and they finally make the truest friends. The Navajos are very bright, but are harder than some to reach because they are very self-reliant and not given to new things." All this is still quite true and, as has often been said: "you can't hurry an Indian." This is especially true of the Navajo; that is in matters that require the use of intelligence, for he likes to think for himself. Missionaries have found this to be true time and time again, and if they try to hurry the Navajo's conversion to Christianity, or take too much for granted as to his accepting the "Jesus way" of life, they are doomed to disappointment. But as Mr. Wadleigh says, "they do measure our sincerity as well as the consistency of our lives as Christians, and when they find that they can trust us we shall have made progress in our endeavors." We shall find ample evidence of this as our story unfolds. Going back again to this letter to Miss Schuyler, we read that he mentions a line of approach already briefly suggested: "a great defect of the government schools, to go back to my hobby, lies in their failure to do anything for the grown up Indians. Their work doesn't reach out [5/6] far enough to include the parents. As a method of reaching the adults, we shall start in the fall a sewing society among the Indian women."

And now there appears on the scene a new character, "Zona", an unusual child discovered among the pupils of the school whose personality wins the interest and affection of various leaders of the Mission-which-is-to-be, and in our story will appear 'on stage' and then 'off stage', exciting our hopes as to her future. So let us continue:

As it happened, Zona's grandmother, "Old Charity", herself quite 'a character' did not wholly approve of the school or of the purpose of the authorities to give the child the advantages of higher education. Moreover, the old lady must have had considerable to do with a certain slight uprising of the parents of the school children, who were not a bit cooperative with the 'powers that be', for in this same oft-quoted letter of Mr. Wadleigh he goes on to say: "Mrs. Wadleigh has written you about Zona . . . Finally we detained Zona at the school some days when her grandmother wanted her, and at last when they had quieted somewhat, I talked earnestly to them all, Old Charity had to give up and allow Z. to remain here during her vacation. Now we are trying to get together a small class, including Z., to go away, most likely to Haskell Institute, in the fall. Zona has an unusually good mind, and being a full-blooded Navajo, if we can save her from her friends, and from herself, for a few years, she may become a Missionary of great good among her own people."

At this time there had been troubles also in the official family. Agent Vandever, who had been appointed in 1888, and had been such a good friend of the Bishop and had cooperated so happily in the new project, was retired and was succeeded by Mr. Dana Shipley. He was distincly not a success and soon got into trouble over an unwise and untactful attempt to enforce the compulsory school act. A brawl ensued with "Black Horse", a new headman, in which the agent was seriously injured. This occurred near Round Rock store and involved such well-known characters as Chee Dodge, and the traders Charley Hubbell and Arthur Hardy. Following this incident came a second attack and a warning from the Navajos. Shipley wisely resigned and left the reservation. This happened in the fall of 1892, but was followed by much happier days for all in the appointment of Lieut. Edwin H. Plummer of the 10th U. S. Infantry, as acting agent, and soon after as actual agent. He was a man of fine education and fortunately of independent means. From the start he took an intelligent and humane interest in the Navajos, whom he governed with a firm but persuasive discipline.

Following Mr. Wadleigh's career rather closely for the present and his apparently good ideas, he certainly seems to have had plenty of enthusiasm for his work. This was of course commendable and doubtless indicated a natural characteristic trait of the man himself. However, the writer of this story, having had a fairly wide acquaintance with Missionaries among the Navajo for a number of years, will have to record that he has seen that this trait of enthusiasm has characterized most Missionaries when they come to live in the great altitude of the Navajo reservation. However, after awhile, the effects of the altitude are liable to produce a nervous condition which reacts into instability or even serious depression. We may have occasion to observe this as we proceed with our story.

Mr. Wadleigh must have had no little musical ability, and perhaps some experience in training choirs, for he had remarkable things to report along this line in connection with the church services he had instituted at the school. Within the first six months he was able to report (Sept. 19, 1892): "Sunday mornings we have our full church service with a short sermon. In a short time the children will be able to join in singing the chants and anthems. This I am very anxious for, as then they will feel themselves a part of the service, and it will become so much more to them." He certainly was right in this idea; the marvel is that he could accomplish so much in the singing, and shows what great pains he took with the little Navajos, and how great must have been his patience. It was at about this time that he asked for more prayer books, saying that "nearly every boy will sing in a short time." A boy choir was certainly a novelty in an Indian Mission field, but one wonders why he did not have girls too in his choir as is done so generally now.

In the meantime, in spite of all these encouraging reports of progress, the question very naturally arose among the supporters of this work, who lived in the far east, [6/7] as to whether in his dual role of government official and Missionary the work might not be considered as secular rather than religious. Even his good friend and stand-by, Miss Schuyler, in a letter received at this time, in reference to the Missionary work for which the "W.A." was organized by the church, had spoken of this particular work as "secular". This disturbed Mr. Wadleigh keenly and in his reply, he said: "not so, but as thoroughly a Missionary work and labor for the master as ever can be done. It is perfectly practical, however, with no poetry about it. If I had a dozen pairs of hands and strength to use them, they could all be employed in doing the master's work, in helping these people to live a few steps higher up than their fathers have lived." But it becomes evident that he had yet much to learn about these interesting and quite independently-minded people, as the following experience shows! In the letter referred to above, he asks Miss Schuyler for a Christmas box, and among the things expecially asked for as greatly needed was "neck-wear, something like a windsor scarf . . . made of either old silk or any neat wash fabric, athough like all Indians, bright colors are favorites. Now they have only an occasional red bandanna handkerchief which they tie around their necks, and the effect is villanous, nor is it good for their health." But later on, in acknowledging the Christmas box, which had evidently been prepared according to his specifications, he has to admit that the windsor ties, (also some napkins which he had asked for), were not well received by the children, and that the boys still preferred to wear their (villanous looking) bandannas around their necks. However the girls were "wild over their dolls." Yes, he was learning! And admitted that he would have to go "step by step". It may be that he had found the Navajo to be somewhat different from the Papago and Pima Indians with whom he had been in contact at Tucson, as he has indicated before. At any rate, he was now learning by experience that you cannot uproot former in-bred notions or tastes by a mere wave of the hand, or word of the mouth, even if these tastes be only a preference for 'red bandannas'. And this we can see more distinctly in his complete failure to substitute mechanical devices for the traditional methods of preparing and spinning the wool by hand, which certainly required skill and deftness. Perhaps it was fortunate that he did not succeed in this at that time, for even today, after more than half a century, it is becoming difficult to introduce a radical change of this kind.

Let us for a moment in our imagination suppose that such a change were possible. The individual woman would hardly be able or willing to assume the necessary cost of the mechanical device, and it would become necessary for several of them, representing different homes, to club together to pay for and use the outfit. This, at least at the start, would be difficult because of the isolation of the family groups and thus the difficulty of the women getting together. Of course, if this could be done, it might be considered a good thing and quite in the line of progress, as an example of cooperation and 'community spirit'. But it might well do exactly the opposite and produce misunderstandings and serious quarrels. But let us suppose that these difficulties were overcome and the project were instituted, expecially now that the government has at last begun to help the whole tribe financially and in other ways, would it not in time (taking a long look ahead) result in further efforts on the part of their superior white advisors to introduce machine looms, and these doubtless on a cooperative basis, and all such 'progressive' plans? And then what would become of the artist soul of the individual woman who--as for long ages past--has beheld in her brain the design which she now works out on her primitive loom with marvelous inspiration and skill, weaving her very soul into her work before her, as she creates a masterpiece of native art! Thus would not the development of mechanical production be the death of art on the reservation, and the stifling of the soul of every Navajo woman who gave herself up to it!

There are now, however, opportunities of progressive cooperation along other lines which are being developed, and the cooperation and practical assistance which the government is now putting into effect will open up new phases of life--interest which will be of great benefit to the tribe as a whole as well as to the wider community of the state. And these things will not interfere with the native art-inspiration which is the life and soul of the rug-maker sitting at her primitive loom.

Wadleigh's very laudable desire to have more time to go about among the Indians in their own homes and neighborhoods was to be fulfilled. It involved the appointment of a special assistant, a "disciplinarian", to look after the boys of the school; he had asked for such an appointment and his request was finally granted. This official appointee was one of "Bishop Hare's boys", a Dakota Indian, an Episcopalian, and a [7/8] graduate of Haskell Institute; his name was Jeffrey Goulette, and he would receive a salary of fifty dollars a month. Now Mr. Wadleigh could visit the Indians and try to overcome their unwillingness to send their children to the school, a tendency that caused much trouble to the authorities, although today nearly overcome. The Navajos of the western part of the reservation had been disturbed by a conflict on the part of some of their tribesmen, together with the Hopis, against certain Mormon settlers who had pre-empted the land at Tuba, definitely encroaching on lawful Indian property. The difficulty was soon settled but it had given quite a 'story' to the newspapers of the west, which did not minimize the difficulty. It really did not amount to much, but the consequent restlessness among the natives may have made more difficult Wadleigh's efforts of visiting them to overcome their prejudices against the school, and it very likely caused the government officials to hold Wadleigh back somewhat, and to be less cooperative with him in his projects. This in turn would naturally be reflected in his sensitive feelings and perhaps made him a bit difficult to get along with. In addition to all this a neighboring Methodist Missionary was trying his best to 'horn in' and to take away the Sunday morning service, which was so well supported by the government people and satisfied the school children, who were learning more and more of the prayer book service. Whatever all the facts may have been, Mr. Wadleigh's feelings were poured out to Miss Schuyler in the letter mentioned above, as he goes on to say, "I get so discouraged at times. So much is to be done, and the time is so short. At best we can only start them in a better way, leaving the future in his hands. The very hardest thing seems to be to get along with my civilized neighbors. This tries me . . . I am afraid my sympathy all goes out towards the Indians! Perhaps this may become a bonded school, which would give me greater authority, and possibly I may leave. When I am sure I am not to be allowed to control the character of my employees or the work done, then self-respect would not let me remain."

This was in January, 1893, and his letter to Miss Schuyler is the last word that the writer of this history has been able to find from or about Mr. Wadleigh. All we know is that he did resign, as did, of course, his wife, who had held some official position under him. Further details we do not know.

And now begins a more happy chapter, as there appears on the scene for the first time, (in 1893), a character who might be called the life and soul of the "Hospital of the Good Shepherd" which was to be; a matron and teacher of the Fort Defiance government school who was appointed acting Superintendent. This was Miss Eliza W. Thackara, who had come to the school from Florida, a genuine "southerner", in the best sense of the word, and a devout Episcopalian, her father being a clergyman of the church. As to her immediate activities, there is not much to record here, but it seems certain that she did her part in carrying on the services and teachings inaugurated by Mr. Wadleigh, whose earnest efforts to break down the opposition of the Indians to the school and his endeavors to bring in more children from near and far, were to bear fruit in a project of the agent, Lieut. Plummer. He was keen to see that the opposition of the Navajos was not entirely their fault. A letter of his, written later, reveals this attitude, for he said: "the Indians feel themselves superior to 'Americans' in every way, because the only whites they have seen are a few settlers scattered along the frontier . . . And those of the very worst type." The project he had in mind which he hoped would tend to dispel the unfortunate ideas of the Indians about the school and about the white man in general, was expressed in a letter to Mr. Herbert Welsh dated May 23, 1893, just as the great Chicago World's Fair was opening. In this letter he unfolded his plan, which was to select a large group of the most conservative Navajos, a car-load of them, in fact, and to take them on a pilgrimage to the east where they might visit a few large government boarding and day schools to see how they were conducted; and especially to note the spirit of cooperation that prevailed within them, and how well these schools were being supported and encouraged by the Indian people. And then he would take them to visit Chicago and the great exposition and perhaps other places where they might see the white man at his best, and form a better opinion of him than they had had of the worthless specimens on the edges of the reservation. All this Lieut. Plummer believed would change the point of view of the Navajo and overcome his opposition to the white man's ways, and thus forestall and prevent the serious trouble and possible uprising on the part of many of the tribe, which otherwise seemed inevitable. The expense of such a trip would doubtless be considerable, and Lieut. Plummer was wondering if the Indian Rights Association would not help to meet this expense. Mr. Welsh, as we might expect, was at once deeply interested in the project, but first laid the matter before the Indian department of the government, which approved of the plan but stated that there [8/9] were no funds available to carry it out! Accordingly, at the suggestion of Lieut. Plummer, Mr. Welsh wrote to Miss Schuyler and told her the whole story, appealing to the Westchester branch for their help. He expressed his conviction that the project would open the eyes of the Indians and perhaps pave the way for further Missionary work, adding that he thought that from five to six hundred dollars would be sufficient. Miss Schuyler quickly responded, expressing her personal approval. Her letter brought an immediate reply from Mr. Welsh with added arguments in favor of the plan, although admitting that it might cost as much as seven hundred dollars of which he had already a hundred dollars promised. He further stated that the government had put the whole project into the hands of the Indian Rights Association.

The Westchester branch did not hesitate long in giving its approval, and Miss Cornelia Jay sent a check; whether this was an official offering of the branch or her own personal gift is not clear. Thus the project developed rapidly under the leadership of Mr. Welsh, who continued to solicit subscriptions from personal friends, including the Rev. Dr. Tomkins, rector of St. James' Church, Chicago, who expressed his hope of arranging things "so the Navajos can see the Christian and humane side of our civilization." It was a part of the plan to have Lieut. Plummer take personal charge of the expedition, and he had hoped to do so, but finding that he could not well leave his post at Fort Defiance, he decided to send his clerk, Mr. La Tourette, whose father was a chaplain in the U. S. Army. This was a happy choice and indicated the agent's desire to keep in touch with the church authorities, and to make sure of their cooperation. So it was that he wrote to Bishop Kendrick and laid before him the whole project, telling him of his own suggestion to Mr. Welsh to solicit the help of the Westchester ladies, and reporting that Welsh had secured seven hundred dollars, but admitting that he feared that this would be only half enough to carry out the project! The Bishop, with true Missionary spirit, based upon definite practical experience and deep spiritual faith, at once approved of the scheme and promised one hundred dollars towards its execution. The lieutenant quickly and gratefully responding, produced new and most convincing evidence of his confidence by quoting a Navajo woman who had already been to the fair and had just written to her daughter at the school urging her to study hard, because she herself had seen at the fair the benefit of being able to understand english, which she still understood imperfectly. Meantime the Bishop's check had been received and in acknowledging it, the lieutenant added that the Navajo party would leave Gallup on October 13th, in charge of Mr. La Tourette.

The expedition proved to be a great success and confirmed the wisdom of the plan, unusual and unprecedented although it had been. It had indeed been a remarkable experience and well justified, for when it was all over and everyone had returned safe and happy, Lieut. Plummer was able to write to Bishop Kendrick (Nov. 17, 1895), that "the trip was already bearing fruit, for children were being brought to the school and the Indians had been heard to say that they were going to fill the school!" And this success was further attested when the lieutenant wrote to Mr. Welsh the following February, 1894, saying: "We have now 140 children in the Navajo boarding school at this agency, being a very much larger attendance than ever before . . . I believe that the Chicago trip had a great deal to do with the number of children. When I returned from Chicago there were only sixty odd in the school. Since then they have been coming right along and are still coming . . . All have been brought in voluntarily, and not by a policeman or by force of any kind. Four of the Chicago group have gathered up a party of children and brought them in." He then went on to express his wish to make the school useful and attractive "now that the people are in this frame of mind." All of this goes to show the actual benefit the plan was to the school and to the general attitude of the Indians towards the white men, as well as towards the government, in its treatment of the Navajo. But how much it set forward the Missionary work of the church was not made so clear, although it surely had, at least indirectly, a beneficial effect. And it indicates the opportunity and responsibility of the church in going along with the government in its efforts, especially at that time, not only to restore to the Navajo his lawful rights, but to lift him up to higher levels of opportunity and development.

All this may seem to be a rather long digression from our "story", but the events above recorded really led up to, and prepared for the timely establishing of "the Hospital of the Good Shepherd" as we shall now see. So let us return in our narrative to the autumn of 1892 when Mr. Wadleigh was at the peak of his brief but effective career, and agent Vandever had just retired, soon to be followed by Lieut. Plummer, [9/10] (after a short regime of Mr. Shipley). At this very time interesting events were transpiring in the church at large. The general convention meeting in Baltimore early in October, officially separated Arizona from New Mexico, as a matter of Missionary expediency as well as for the greater efficiency of administration. Bishop Kendrick, however, was to keep both jurisdictions under his care. We have already noted the principal events that took place on the Navajo reservation, and particularly at and near Fort Defiance, during the fall of 1892 and the greater part of 1893. In June of this year Bishop Kendrick visited the fort, but it could hardly have been a very significant visit, or one that impressed him any too favorably as to our church's Missionary efforts, coming as it did a few months after Mr. Wadleigh's departure, but it set the Bishop to thinking over the whole situation and weighing the results, or the lack of results, over against the opportunities. It did not, however, prevent his taking a great interest in agent Plummer's Chicago plan, as was shown by his ready and generous gifts for the project. In fact the apparent failure of the church's efforts may have made him all the more willing to assist any endeavor that would tend to smooth over the difficulties between the Indians and the whites. All this is suggested in his address before the Convocation of Arizona which met in Phoenix in October. (Oct. 23-25, 1893). This was the "primary Convocation" of the newly separated and independent District of Arizona. In his address, he said:

"Nothing of permanent nature has been accomplished among the Navajo Indians in Arizona and New Mexico. Some assistance has been given to the government school at Fort Defiance. But the plans in which we have been working have proved impracticable. It has been necessary to learn by experience. I think I know more than I did. No Mission work has ever been done among these Indians, and it is difficult to make a beginning. They are jealous of the intrusion of the white man, and refuse their consent to any settlement for Missionary purposes that will enclose the land or use the water. The ladies of the Westchester branch of the Woman's Auxiliary of New York have in mind to send out two women Missionaries, or else a Missionary and his wife, both of whom shall be Missionaries. It is fortunate for these Indians, and for those who are interested in them, and for the government, that Lieut. Plummer has been sent to Fort Defiance, and is to be retained there. I hope that those who have been interested in the government school will continue their interest and assistance. It will be something worth doing to help make that school effective. But we ought to do more than that."

What the Bishop said as to the plans having proved impracticable was only too true, and indicated plainly that our friend Wadleigh, with all his enthusiasm and consecration of effort, did not make a success of the two-fold project, and of his double responsibility as Superintendent of the Navajo school and Missionary of the Episcopal Church. And yet Mr. Wadleigh's efforts were not entirely in vain, for the experiment was valuable and well worth trying, because it revealed what not to do, and why. It was in fact a prelude to a better understanding of the needs and of the problems involved in the sincere wish of the church and of the government to serve the Navajo people, and it opened the way for an entirely different and far better objective. Yes, and it also fulfilled the prophetic words of the wise Bishop when, after urging the Westchester ladies and other friends to help make the school effective, he said, "but we ought to do more than that."


Let us see what this "more" was to be; what new objective. The following letters from the Bishop to Miss Schuyler, which we quote almost in full, open up a new and brighter chapter in our story:

Ft. Defiance, Ariz.
May 9, 1894

"My Dear Miss Schuyler:

I address this letter to you . . . Will you see that it gets into proper hands.

I have been here for nearly a week, and after consulting with Lieut. Plummer, the agent, with Miss Merritt, the Superintendent of the government school, and with Mr. Samuel E. Day, who has lived here for several years, and has been a clerk at the agency, and has now a ranch in the neighborhood and belongs to our church, I am prepared to make the following recommendations.

It seems to us all that the most useful thing we can do is to establish a hospital here at Fort Defiance.

We could establish a Mission to consist of a field matron and assistant, who could go about among the Indians and do them a great deal of good. Hospital work would give us the opportunity here, that it gives everywhere, of getting at the soul through attention to the body. Next to schools it would afford, perhaps, the best opportunity of making good impressions on these people, and conveying religious instruction to them.

Hospital work would be permanent work. At first we should have our hands full with the care of sick children from the school. In time the government will provide hospital accommodation for its school. Then we should have the field of the Indians in the neighborhood of the agency, for a hundred miles. The government will never provide a hospital for these people!

The hospital could be made the center of field work over this portion of the reservation. In time we could connect with this hospital a Chapel for religious services.

And another reason for locating the work of the ladies here is that it will be but a short distance from a transcontinental railroad line, and it can be visited by some of those who are especially interested in it.

And we can find in the government school a Superintendent for this Hospital-Mission. This is Miss Eliza Thackara. Her father, the Rev. Dr. Thackara, was a well-known clergyman of the Diocese of Florida. Miss Thackara is a communicant of the church, of course. She has made a good record in the school here. She has good sense and good health. By Lieut. Plummer, Miss Merritt and Mr. Day she is strongly commended for the position, and I think that she would accept the appointment. It would be very much in her favor that she is on the ground, that she has the confidence of the authorities here, and that she already knows something of the field and of the work. She was at one time the matron and is now one of the teachers of the government school. I met her here a year ago, and have become more acquainted with her at this visit, and it seems to me that the good opinion expressed of her is well deserved."

[12] Bishop Kendrick then went on to speak of the necessary expenses of the project, which would include a salary of nine hundred dollars for Miss Thackara, and he also said that a regular trained nurse would have to be sent out, since Miss Thackara was not a nurse. He little realized how much of a nurse she would have to be in the days to come! He then mentioned a letter recently received from Lieut. Plummer, heartily re-enforcing his plea for a hospital. The Bishop sent another follow-up letter to Miss Schuyler the very next day, in which he suggested that Miss Thackara's appointment be dated from August 1st, and that the money for the building, (which would be a simple frame structure, costing about twelve hundred dollars), be sent by August 1st.

The Westchester branch promptly took up the idea as a special project, following the suggestion of Bishop Kendrick, and endorsed the appointment of Miss Eliza Thackara as Superintendent, or matron. The secretary of the branch, Miss Cornelia Bolton, immediately informed Miss Thackara of their action, and evidently wrote also to Bishop Kendrick, for he replied (June 7, 1894), thanking the branch for their action and announcing his 'official' appointment of Miss Thackara. He added, however, that she had informed him that she would not be able to begin work until the first of September. Meantime Miss Thackara had replied to Miss Bolton's letter and had said, "in accepting the position, while I feel, having had a very close acquaintance among these Indians for the past two years, that the work, any work, will be of slow growth and arduous, yet it will be such a blessed work I cannot well refuse to aid in its advancement to the extent of my power."

Shortly after, (July 7, 1894), the Bishop wrote to Miss Schuyler and in his letter said, "it will be necessary not only to provide the hospital, but also to bring in the patients. The influence of the "medicine men" is strong among the Navajos, and that influence will oppose and be opposed. Miss Thackara must go about among the Indians and make their acquaintance and acquire their confidence. Patients will not come as soon as the hospital doors are open. Miss Thackara realizes very deeply the importance of the spiritual side of the work. A beginning is now in sight. From this beginning I hope and pray that the work may grow into something substantial and permanent. Application has been made through Lieut. Plummer for permission to establish a Hospital-Mission at Fort Defiance, and for a site for the buildings. Mr. Plummer and Miss Thackara have decided where the location shall be made, when permission to locate is received."

This application was acted upon by the Navajo Council, and after due consideration was granted. This was on October 20, 1894. On July 24, 1894, the day following Bishop Kendrick's letter to Miss Schuyler, Miss Thackara had also written to her, after a conference with the Bishop in Albuquerque, in which many things were discussed. She mentioned her intention of taking August for a vacation in her old home in Florida, and expressed the hope that en route she might stop for a visit in Philadelphia, and that being so near the Westchester people she might have a chance to talk with some of the ladies personally, with the Bishop's approval. Then she went on to say:

"It is almost impossible to understand the nature of this work. You must live among these Indians and see them in their own country. They do not love Americans (white); these Navajos have had so much to make them distrust us. In entering upon this Missionary work, this Mission hospital, we will find that we have got to overcome the influence of the medicine men, and here lies the great work we may have to do. The sick and suffering do need our help, but we have more to do than this."

We are at once reminded by these last words of what Bishop Kendrick had said in his address to Convocation a year before, as quoted above, when, speaking of the need of interest in the government school, he had declared, "but we ought to do more than that." This "more" is just what the efforts and understanding devotion of Miss Thackara were to accomplish later in a remarkable degree.

Miss Thackara made her intended trip to the east, although we have no report of it further than a mere reference in a letter written a few months later to Miss Schuyler. This was followed by two to Miss Bolton, and these two letters were so illuminating, as they unfold the story of her experiences and purposes, that we must give them nearly in full. (October 15, 1894)

[13] "The two years I had spent here had made me very familiar with all the surroundings. It gave me sincere pleasure to see again all the Indian children as well as the older Indians and to find that they had been watching for me. I never found the Navajos other than kindly and affectionate. I acknowledge that it takes some time to gain their confidence, but once friends they are loyal ones.

I must tell you of an experience I had one Sunday morning. I thought I would make a visit to a family I knew. I had not gone more than half a mile when I observed that there was an Indian not far behind me, so I waited until he had overtaken me. After a few words with him--my Navajo language is limited and he did not understand any english--I gave him, in token of good will, my little leather bag to carry.

He was a man past middle age, and I soon disocvered that he was a visitor from a distance. We went on together until we reached Hasteen Tsosie's house; I was quite disappointed to find no one of the family at home. It was quite deserted and there was not an Indian to be seen. I imagine the woman must have been off with her sheep and goats. I sat down on a rock to rest and my Indian stretched himself out on the ground near me, covered his head with his blanket and took a rest also. I had no idea that he intended to stay with me, but supposed that he would go on.

When I felt rested I took out of my bag my little bible and prayer book and went through the morning service. The Indian roused up after awhile and I gave him my books to look at. Without an interpreter, I could not teach him the things I would have been glad to tell him. But to entertain him, I took out a lead pencil and some writing paper and gave him an english lesson and at the same time it was a written lesson. He had never had in his hand, if he had ever seen, a pencil. I first wrote 'cat', (Navajo mousae). He wrote it and learned the word. Then we took 'pig' (be-so-te); next 'dog' (cla-chin); and the last word 'man' (has-teen). I had him repeat the words over many times and he learned to say them without hesitating. Think how quick he was! And he was perfectly delighted with it all. I think he would have spent the afternoon over it, but it was time for me to start home. I gave him the pencil and a fresh piece of paper with the four words written on it. He took me all the way home. I have not seen him since, but some day I may, and I will hope that I have made a friend for your hospital.

Now there is plenty of work for me to do. The hospital will not fill unless the older Indians know who is in charge; they must feel that there is a friend to come to. I have a room at the agent's house. Lieut. Plummer is very kind; had he not taken me in, I should have been obliged to have stayed in Gallup until I had either gotten a tent or put up a house of one room; there is no room in the government buildings. I board at the 'mess'. In a few weeks Lieut. Plummer will be leaving and a new agent will take his place, and I cannot expect to keep this room. I am very anxious to get a little house put up. I do not care how rough it is, only that it may be warm.

When I met the ladies in New York, I urged upon them the very important matter of providing a team of horses. . . I have discussed this question with Lieut. Plummer; I could not have a better adviser. The hope of using Indian ponies must be given up, as it would not be practicable for us. In having our own team we could save hauling the stone, lumber, shingles, etc., almost more than enough for buying a team. I will put the cost of the two horses at $150.00. We can get just the wagon we want at Albuquerque. Of course there must be provision made for keeping it; $12.00 a month for each horse. Hay and oats cost a good deal. A stable should come in as a part of the hospital buildings.

[14] I cannot now tell you what the cost of digging a well would be. I am expecting to see a man who understand well-digging. This man can take charge of the work; I will give him Indians to assist. As far as I can in carrying out this work, I intend to employ Indians. The Indian men are good workers and I shall be with them on the grounds to see that they do not waste the time. I have heard from the Bishop that the $l200.00 is at my service. In five days the Indians whom I have engaged to get out the stone for the hospital building will be ready to go to work. The getting out of the stone will take some little time; when we are ready to haul the stone, if the team were on hand, we would save at once. If not, I must hire a team; the winter will have set in before we get the walls up, if we delay.

The application which Bishop Kendrick made to the Department of the Interior for permission to locate a hospital Mission at this agency, for the benefit of the Navajo Indians was granted. But before we commence building at all, or doing anything at all on the land, it is necessary to have the approval of the Indians. Lt. Plummer, as soon as I returned, sent out messengers to call them in to a Council, to let them hear what was to be done for them, and to have their full consent to make use of the piece of land we have selected. Two of the chief men, Old White Head and Juanica, have not yet returned from a hunting trip far in Utah. We must wait for them for the Council."

Five days later, October 20, 1894, the Indian Council met at the agency and acted favorably on the request for land for the proposed hospital. It was indeed a most interesting meeting in every respect, and in fact quite unusual. After Lieut. Plummer had made a brief talk explaining the purpose of the hospital and the benefit it would be to the people, several of the chief men made talks, as representing the tribe. One of these was Old "Many Horses", who said that the Navajos were very glad that their white brothers and sisters were going to build a house for them to go to when they were sick and needed good medicine and a 'good doctor'. This was most gratifying and showed the changing sentiment on the part of the Indians, and a consequent lessening of opposition. The medicine men did not say much, but they must have been troubled, and their own opposition was not entirely overcome for some time to come.

The next important matter was the definite selection of a site for the building. Miss Thackara had previously gone out with Lieut. Plummer to select what seemed to them to be the most convenient and desirable place, but after the council meeting they took some Indians with them to see the site they had in mind and found to their great surprise that they had made a most unfortunate selection, which, if it had been used, would have wrecked their whole project; for as soon as the location was pointed out the Indians exclaimed: "shin-de, shin-de:" some of them walked off as fast as they could go and others drew their blankets over their heads and would not look. This "shin-de" is one of the sad superstitions of the Navajos, even to this day. We will let Miss Thackara tell us about it:

"When a Navajo is about to die, he is carried out of his house, for he must not die in his house; should any man, woman or child die in a house, it must be immediately destroyed. Should it be left standing, it would be death to anyone who would ever enter it, and so great is the dread of the place where it stood that no Navajo wants to pass near it; it is "shin-de!"

When Lieut. Plummer looked about at this place, he noticed that it had not been planted for a long time, and it was evident to him that no Indian had claimed it. Someone had died there; it might have been years before. Accordingly the lieutenant said to the interpreter, "tell the Indians that they must select a place to build the hospital." They were greatly pleased to have the opportunity and responsibility given to them and gladly led the 'white brother and sister' to other places, and in about a couple of hours, as Miss Thackara tells us, "a new location has been decided on. And a most admirable selection it was; an Indian knows good camping ground. We have a charming location for this country. There is good ground for the buildings on a sunny slope of the mesa, while below the land will be excellent for pasture and garden."

[15] Miss Thackara's letter to the Westchester branch in which she told of the Navajo superstition of the "shin-de", especially in relation to death, unfortunately caused no little alarm among her good friends in the east, who quite naturally feared that such a superstition would interfere with the work of the hospital, where deaths would occur from time to time. So in another letter Miss Thackara took pains to reassure the Westchester ladies as follows:

"I am so sorry that I so alarmed the ladies by my account of the "shin-de". I can see now that it was calculated to make them anxious. This subject has been carefully looked into. I do not think it will interfere with our work--we will use caution. A dying Indian, if an old Indian, I would rather not take into one of the wards, yet if a death should occur, it would not have the effect you fear. I am told that six childred died here (at the agency); it was in one of the small houses used by the agency physician for his offices; there were a front room and two small back. Outside Indians--visiting Indians--were often allowed to sleep in this house; the sick children were taken there to nurse them. . . . The death in the house did not seem to affect the Indians, for they afterwards came in and out as usual. . . . for they said, 'shin-de does not come to the white man's house; the Navajos are not afraid there!'".

This last sentence seems to have explained matters satisfactorily to all concerned. However, Miss Thackara realized that a small morgue would have to be built when the hospital was finally finished.

It was a memorable day when the work of getting out the stone from near-by quarries was begun. Six Indians were employed and they worked well and with considerable interest. Most of the tools had to be purchased in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where for some time all sorts of supplies had to be obtained, although some things could be bought in Gallup, which was much nearer. Miss Thackara hoped to get out enough stone to make a beginning on the walls and to accomplish something definite before the heavy snows and the cold weather would make it too difficult for the masons to do good work. Meantime, as she visited the land where the hospital was to be located, it seemed at first to be a rather lonely place in a barren sort of country with so little water available that only a few stunted trees, mostly pine and juniper, could grow; and it was so far from the agency, almost a mile by road, although by a foot-path it was not much over half that distance. There were times when even the enthusiastic Miss Thackara had some misgivings as to whether she had undertaken a work and a responsibility that she might not be equal to. However her splendid Christian spirit and unfailing faith carried her steadily on.

It was during this fall of 1894 that a cloud of regret and disappointment cast a shadow over the scene; Lieut. Plummer, the genial and most efficient agent of the reservation, felt obliged to resign. For two years his pleasing personality and his undoubted fitness for his task had made him stand out as an unusually excellent government official and leader. His wise administration of his office and his sympathetic understanding of the Indian made especially effective his ready cooperation in the Missionary projects of our church, of which he was a devout member. But unfortunately the weight and strain of his duties, with the many trying experiences they entailed, began to be too great for him. It is also quite possible that the great altitude of the region was affecting him, as it did so many. A year before he had remarked to Bishop Kendrick in one of his letters that he was "asking to be relieved of his duties, because of feeling incompetent." He was certainly most conscientious and perhaps quite too modest. Anyway, in this fall of 1894 he announced his expected transfer to another field of labor, which was that of active service once more in the U.S. Army. He was therefore succeeded by Captain, (or was it Major?), Constant Williams of the famous Seventh Cavalry, which had distinguished itself in Indian warfare. Although ready to welcome the new official and to hope for his cooperation, both the Bishop and Miss Thackara felt that the departure of Lieut. Plummer was the "removing of a pillar of strength."


However, the good work went on apace, in spite of the removal of that "pillar", Lt. Plummer, and Miss Thackara said in November 1894:

"I do not know much of hospital work, but I know what can be done for the Navajos. This will not be like any eastern hospital, nor can it be managed in the same way. It must be to suit the Navajos."

Then she spoke of the work of building the hospital as having been started, and that the Indians themselves were quarrying and hauling the stone. It was her very excellent idea to use as much native help as possible, not only to make them feel that they had a part in the work, which of course was most important, but also for the practical purpose of giving them an opportunity of earning a livlihood for themselves and their families, and also of learning habits of industry. She herself was becoming a part of the work, for she was out by 7:30 each morning to meet her workers and to see that they all were well; and three times a day she visited them.

Let us pause a moment and form in our minds the picture of Miss Thackara in the midst of her workers. To the student of Latin classics does it not at once suggest Queen Dido among the builders of the walls of Carthage? Or does the devout student of the scriptures prefer to think of Solomon with his craftsmen, and his workers in the quarries, as the temple walls arise in all their stateliness? Both thoughts are quite in order as we consider Miss Thackara. Small, erect, was this "southern lady", born to command yet always with a gracious manner, she possessed indeed a marked personality. As our story unfolds, we shall be aware of a certain queenliness about her, together with a pleasing simplicity and ingenousness. And we shall also realize that while she would be far from claiming any Solomonic qualities, yet she did possess a wholesome common sense and sound good judgment in many things. She also had a discriminating idea of fitness and proportion which served her well in carrying out her many and diverse duties and responsibilities. This was evident from the beginning, for while she was overseeing the quarry-men, she was not neglecting her larger flock whose plysical and spiritual needs were always appealing to her. Already she was carrying on her clinical work, visiting all the Indians within walking distance, for she had no way of getting about except on foot.

For greater efficiency, as well as for her own convenience, she much desired to have a little house of her own. She had been occupying a room in the agent's house, and was afraid she would have to give it up when Captain Williams came to take Lieut. Plummer's place. However, the new agent was very considerate and gladly allowed her to keep her room as long as she might need it. All this she reported to her friend Miss Schuyler and asked for help in the building of her 'little house', a request which was soon to be granted. Next to this need of a house was that of a more convenient and efficient means of transportation. In other words, she very much wanted a wagon and a team of horses, as she had mentioned to Miss Schuyler in her letter; hardly a moderate request, yet a most practical one, for she needed not only a way to get about herself, but also a means of hauling all sorts of material for the new hospital. It was to Mrs. Bolton that she wrote to make this want known, and the good ladies of Westchester were prompt in responding to all these needs. In regard to the digging of a well on the hospital site, as mentioned above, and the difficulites and possibly the dangers attendant upon this project, she quite frankly asked for some ready cash from the appropriation, so as to be able to pay the workers promptly and regularly, adding "for no one trusts an Indian for a cent." This referred to the traders, who knew how childish the Indians were, especially in the use of money, which they did not well understand, being accustomed to trading and pawning, in which they were well versed. A suspicion might creep in here that the traders, or some of them at least, were not too honest in their dealings with the Indians, and sometimes took advantage of their ignorance and trustfulness, holding them up in many ways. There may have been some ground for such suspicion in the early days, and yet, speaking of traders in general, they were often the best friends of the natives, wholly honorable in their transactions and interested in helping their ignorant customers. We think of "Don Lorenzo" Hubbell and his sons, and of the Wetherills, and many others whose names have come down to us as of outstanding [16/17] "characters" and picturesque personalities. This lack of trust of Indians, as to money, brings up another, and not very happy side of the picture, for using the word 'trust' in a general sense the Indians had great reason for their lack of trust in the whites, as history too well reveals, not only by Indians as a whole throughout the country, but in a particular way by the Navajos because of their tragic experiences not many years before. This we shall discuss further on in our story.

The journals of the Convocations of the District of Arizona held in 1894 and 1895 were imperfect and were bound together in a single volume, and had almost no record of Bishop Kendrick's addresses or of any reports of his visits to Fort Defiance. However, from other records we know that he did make such visits, although we have no information of their details, and we are assured that his deep and personal interest in all that Miss Thackara was doing was unfailing and approving. Miss Thackara herself wrote to Mrs. Bolton one of her characteristic letters in which she described in detail her plans for the hospital-to-be and the financial needs that would be involved. She made it clear that the amount of money promised by her Westchester friends would have to be stretched and re-adjusted to meet the needs. With her womanly insight as well as her practical knowledge of the situation she mentioned the things she must have and those which she very much wanted. For instance there should be a storage room for supplies and provisions and certainly a kitchen and not just a diet kitchen but something for a much wider use. She said that she hoped to have a separate dining room, so as not to have to use the kitchen for this purpose, but she was willing to do without this luxury, although she admitted that "to do so would not be agreeable, but, this I regard as less than the loss of influence a pleasant dining room would have". She was always considering not only the coldly practical needs but also the humanly desirable things. Three bedrooms, for her assistant, her serving woman and herself were highly desirable, and she wanted a guest chamber, for "where will the ladies (visitors from Westchester) lodge when they come to visit the hospital?" She was quite right in this, for just such visitors were to come after awhile, and many others as well. She had already arranged for a room to be her office and reception room, and it would also have to be the dispensary. One wonders how she managed to combine all these uses in one room, but she did, for she was a great manager; a laundry she had to forego, having hope that later the temporary frame house that she was occupying during the erection of the main building could be used as a laundry. Then she mentioned the absolute necessity of having a place for visiting Indians who would come to see their children. In summer they could camp outside, but not during the long, cold winter, especially those Indians who would come from a long distance. "Yes, and they would also need a wash-room with plenty of water and soap!"

The work of getting out and cutting the stone--a very white lime-stone that would eventually turn pinkish as it weathered continued with more or less interruption, chiefly on account of the weather which in the long winter months was most precarious. The Indians who did the work showed a great interest, not only because of the good wages they were getting, but also because many of them felt a personal connection with the whole project. Agent Plummer in his appealing talk at the council meeting which had granted the request for a building site, had especially stressed the advantages that would come to the Navajos from the hospital, and this gave them a feeling of having a part in the work, and a personal interest in it. Several of these active workers later became noted leaders of their people. There was "Pete Price", a man of character and influence and in fact quite an orator, although he never learned to speak English; he afterwards became a native judge of his tribe. During the years in which the hospital was developing into a school, he sent three of his grandsons to the Mission, although he never cared much for the religious influences and teachings the children were receiving.

The next important event was the arrival of the long-expected team of horses. The agency farmer had made a trip into the San Juan region, a hundred and fifty miles to the north-east, where the best horses were to be found, and at the most reasonable prices. It had taken him a month to make the trip across mountain ranges and generally rough country, and the winter had set in by the time of his return--a most severe winter at that--so that all the work on the hospital had to be suspended for many weeks. Even so, the team now arrived, would not have to be idle, but could take Miss Thackara about in the new farm wagon to visit among the Indians in their hogans. So, in spite of wind and weather, the faithful and devoted Missionary "went about doing good" as her master had done in his way so long ago, finding out her people's needs and helping and [17/18] teaching them in many ways. Thus she laid for her future work a foundation of Christian personality and influence as important as the great stones of the walls about to rise. She must have made an impressive appearance, this winter angel of mercy and kindliness, clad from head to foot in garments suited to the severe weather, including long rubber boots to protect her from the deep snow and dampness. It proved to be one of the worst winters known in that region for many years. Not discouraged by the great needs all about her, or by the long delay in putting up the building, she wrote, "I am not even disheartened in the work, and pray that means will come to carry it on."

Another important plan as part of the preparation for the hospital was in regard to the water supply. Midway between Bonito and Black Creeks, which at times were flooding streams, it would seem as if the supply of water would not present a very great problem. But these same water-ways were often practically dry for weeks at a time, nor would the water in them have been suited for domestic purposes at best. So there was but one thing to do and that was to dig a well. With her usual foresight, Miss Thackara had acted promptly, as we have seen, and had sought the advice of Lieut. Plummer and other experts in such matters. The land was very rocky and she was advised to find a spot where the digging would not be too hard; at the same time she was warned not to go too near Black Creek because of the quicksands it had in certain places. After several weeks of careful investigation, an apparently suitable spot was selected. Although she had wisely employed native workers in the stone-cutting and hauling, she decided to seek an expert well-digger, a white man, for this operation. She had an appropriation of $100.00 for the work, and on January 28, 1895, in a letter to Mrs. Bolton, she made a characteristically glowing report of the success of the venture, for it had been a fine piece of well-digging, thirty feet deep with stone-work from bottom to top to protect it from quicksands and cave-ins. It had already nine feet of water which came supposedly from the mountains and not from the creeks. But now came a near-tragic chapter in the story of the well. Wherever the water came from, after it had settled and was tried with great expectations, it proved to be so impregnated with alkali that it could not be used by man or beast: horses and cattle utterly refused to touch it; it couldn't be used at all for cooking purposes, for, as Miss Thackara afterwards exclaimed, "you couldn't even cook beans in it!"

The severe winter dragged along, but although the stone workers were unable to do much of anything, yet Miss Thackara was never idle and always hopeful. Bishop Kendrick himself ever active, turned his thoughts and prayers constantly toward this corner of his great district and wanted to come up to help in any way he could. But Miss Thackara discouraged his trying to make the trip, although fully appreciating his desires. This was not only on his account but also for the very practical reason that there was positively no place for him to stay, she herself having to occupy the only spare room at the agency, a little room back of the agent's office where, she said, "I hear Navajo all day." But the time arrived when she might well have exclaimed with the poet Shelley, "if winter comes, can spring be far behind?" For this is what she wrote to Miss Schuyler on March 25, 1896:

"Three weeks of bright sunshine and milder weather have made quite a change in the appearance of the country around Fort Defiance. We now see the great rocks and the mountains, the rocky mesas, and the barren sandy stretches of land, without the covering of snow which was over all for nearly three months. I cannot say that the landscape has any feature of spring; there is not a green spot visible, but the change to see once again the bare rocks and the sand and the distant mountains without snow is very grateful. I am sure everyone is thankful. I am most sincerely so, that the winter has passed. It has been very severe."

But speaking of the sand which she was so gald to see, she admits a bit later that "sand-on-the-move is not so pleasant. The hospital place is a very exposed position, the sand storms having full sweep. Only they who have experienced these sand storms know how severe they are." During this time her thoughts and plans were being directed towards the planting of various trees, chiefly cottonwood, for their protection in the days to come, and the planting of alfalfa. Corn would have to wait another year. Since the government plans for irrigation and the necessary ditches had had to be delayed and would be too late for that year. But they could fence in a tract [18/19] of low-land where there was natural grass for a pasture for the horses, and thus protect them from the Indian ponies and the great herds of sheep.

But it was not the farming alone that drew her attention and active care; her Navajo people were ever on her mind, and now that the deep mud was drying up she could drive her fine team again and visit the hogans all around. In the letter just quoted, she continued: "on last Saturday I made a visit to a little settlement of Indians nine miles distant. I found the poor creatures in a most destitute condition; I had heard they were so. I had nothing to take them, but I hope I will have something soon. The agency, Captain Williams, has heard from Mr. Welsh that some clothing is to be sent for distribution. I am to have a portion of it." Then in regard to the hospital for these same people: "I hope indeed that interest will be aroused for the carrying out of this Mission. The Navajos are a large tribe, and increasing in number. They are a bright people and I feel that there will be a marked improvement in their condition in the next ten or fifteen years, if the proper work is done by us, their 'white brothers and sisters'." And yet these otherwise 'bright' Indians were still reluctant to send their children to the government school, which according to Miss Thackara was larger and better organized than ever before. "There are, I am told, hundreds of children not sent to school; the Navajos are very reluctant to send in their children; they fight against sending them, but there will be a change in time. One of the efforts I will make in going out among the older Indians will be to influence them to allow their children to go to school." Incidentally, she added, "I have gotten an Indian mother to wash her little children; how much cleaner the little faces are, and the mother so much pleased since she sees the improvement."

After the trying delay during the long, severe winter, it was good to see the work going on once more, and everyone was hoping to see steady and more rapid progress all along the line. But in spite of all hopes and expectations the progress was very slow and discouraging for the next six months. This was largely due to the great distances all the building material had to be hauled, and the almost impassable roads during much of the year. The lumber had to come from the government saw mill sixteen miles away over a rough and dangerous road, so that only small loads could be hauled with safety by the new team and the fine new wagon. All hardware and other things to be purchased had to be brought thirty miles from Gallup over a road that was at best very uncertain and difficult. Some things might have come by freight to Gallup from Albuquerque and other places quite distant and at high rates; this would be true of most of the furniture. So it was that Miss Thackara, always resourceful, decided to employ certain native carpenters to make some of these articles. The Mission style of furniture was the easiest and simplest to construct, which was why the California padres in days long gone had invented it. And this is what the Navajo wood-workers put together. With all respect to those heroic and long-suffering padres, our nineteenth century Missionaries and their many visitors during the years just ahead were destined to suffer much discomfort from that simply constructed furniture! Happily, in recent years these things have been humanely replaced by modern styles, far more conducive to bodily and even spiritual comfort. To keep the cost of the whole building within the $1200.00 of the appropriation proved to be a nightmare to poor Miss Thackara, who frequently had to write to her eastern friends and benefactors, urging them to be as liberal as possible in their gifts. As it was, the much-needed stable would have to wait, although the stone and lumber was on hand, all these matters she reported to Miss Emery in a letter dated September 10, 1895, in which she remarked: "I am so in hopes that means will come in to finish the buildings, that we may push the work and get in before winter. If the winter sets in, we may have to suspend work until spring!" And the winter did set in early in November when a snow storm occurred, but not until considerable progress had been made on the walls so that by building bon-fires outside the four corners the mortar was kept from freezing and the walls completed and covered up. This was all that it was possible to do, for there followed another long, cold winter with its many trials, discomforts and discouragements, during which Miss Thackara became again the "Snow Angel" of Mercy to her Navajo people.

Sometime during this trying year, 1895-1896, Bishop Kendrick had made a visit to Fort Defiance, only briefly mentioned in his Convocation address in the spring of 1896, and he gave no details of his visit nor made any comments about the things that had been going on there. This seems strange, but may have been due to oversight on the part of those who attended to the printing of the journal; surely it was not for any [19/20] lack of interest in the building of the hospital or lack of approval of the great project in its unfolding, for all this was certainly very near to his heart. There were, however, at this time two other ventures in Indian Mission work, both very limited in dimensions, it is true, and quite short-lived, but they may have in a measure diverted his attention from the Navajo field. One of these was at Fort Apache in the extreme eastern part of Arizona, and the other in the extreme western part, at Fort Mojave. Neither of these ever amounted to much or lasted very long, so their story forms no real part of this narrative and are mentioned parenthetically, as it were.

The year 1896 is somewhat surrounded in mystery as far as any definite or detailed knowledge of the progress of the building is concerned. No mention of a visit to Fort Defiance during the year was made by the Bishop in his address at the 1897 Convocation, although he did indicate his approval of the project, saying "I feel very confident that we are on the right track." But 1896 must have been an eventful year as to the building and furnishing of the hospital, and also in the continued shepherding of her people by Miss Thackara, even before the hospital was completed, for during all these months she kept up her spirit of cheerfulness and unbounded faith.


At last her dreams were fulfilled and her faith rewarded, for on March 1, 1897 the doors of the hospital were thrown open. It was considered to be the finest building on the Navajo reservation, and since the Indians had been employed as far as possible in its construction, and their leaders had been the ones to select the site, it created a keen personal interest among the people, as they came to understand that it was to be devoted to their own particular use. Miss Thackara might well say, as she did in a later report: "they have now learned how much they need this building--this little hospital--it is their own and has been dear to them!" The very next day after its opening, the first patient was admitted. It was an Indian with a terrible cancer on his arm. He had been waiting and suffering until the hospital should be ready. A report made by Bishop Kendrick quoted a letter from the agency physician which gives us a vivid description of the case. He said:

"Without the furniture or the utensils that were absolutely necessary, without a nurse or a housekeeper to attend to the wants of a patient, with nothing in fact but a well arranged building in a state of perfect cleanliness, this Indian was laid on the floor and the operation was performed by the doctor, aided by a trained nurse, at that time a matron of the government school. Neither doctor nor nurse could remain and upon Miss Thackara devolved the whole care of the patient. It was a critical case, for had he died the superstitious fears of the Navajos would have rendered the hospital a failure. His recovery was rapid and complete, and the success of the hospital was assured."

It certainly was fortunate, in fact quite providential, that this, the first case turned out so well, as the Bishop indicated in his reference to the superstitious fears of the Navajos. For while it was true, as Miss Thackara had reported to her Westchester friends two years before, that "shin-de does not come to white man's house", as one of her Indian friends had remarked, nevertheless she was most careful to avoid unnecessary complications of this kind, and at the beginning of the hospital work to have a death occur would have been unfortunate, to say the least. This would have been especially true because the Navajos had been encouraged to feel that the hospital belonged to them in a peculiar way, and was not entirely "a white man's house".

With this auspicious beginning, the daily ministrations of the new hospital continued with ever increasing opportunities of usefulness. Little by little the furnishings and equipment were secured, which had been lacking in that first operation, and conditions became more favorable. Nor was the religious work neglected; that was always of first importance. In August of that year, (1897), Bishop Kendrick made his first "visitation". He was accompanied by the Rev. Mr. Manuel of our recently organized Mission at Gallup, for it was the Bishop's idea to have as close a connection as possible between these two neighbor Missions, and that the minister at Gallup should be as far as possible, the pastor, or chaplain of the hospital. On the occasion of this visit they held a service in the dining room of the government school; but more significant still was a baptism held at the hospital. Two children were baptized, who had practically been given to the Mission by their relatives, one was a small boy named Edward Plummer, in delicate health; who did not live long. The other child was "Glympba", who belonged to the household of "One-eyed Billy", a well-known medicine man. Her mother had recently died and, as nobody seemed to want to take care of the child, she was handed over to the Mission. Glympba was the first of many orphaned or neglected children who from time to time were brought up at the Mission. Some of these were legally adopted and others practically so. Miss Thackara was especially attracted to this girl and it was her hope that she might be educated along Christian lines, while keeping in touch with her own people, and thus be of service to them and to the tribe and extending more widely the influence of the Mission. This recalls to us "Zona", in whom Mr. Wadleigh a few years before had taken a great interest in the same general way, and in our story we shall hear of others who were taken up by the Mission in like manner.

[22] All this suggests to us an interesting fact, which seems to be true in nearly all church Missions; that certain children or young people are often selected to be especially prepared and trained to become Missionaries among their own people. For the most part those who are trained locally, and perhaps not too thoroughly, for certain definite tasks such as belong to interpreters, catechists and local lay evangelists, do make good in their limited spheres and are of definite advantage to the work. At the same time others who have been selected because of their special intelligence or devotion and have been sent away to state colleges or universities, or even to nationally known institutions like Haskell and Sherman, have seemed to lose their former interest in their own people and have not retained the Missionary vision they once possessed. Now surely this is not strange, nor is it entirely deplorable, although it does bring disappointment to their friends at home and to their former teachers. After breaking away from their isolation and privations on a reservation, and from the fostering care of a Mission, they come in contact with a larger and far more interesting world with all its advantages and opportunities. No wonder, if after their usual nostalgic days, they begin to lose the urge to go back and settle down among their own people. It would take a pretty strong Missionary motive to overcome the pull of wider freedom. It is true that most of these young people, after their school days, are soon lost sight of and become very ordinary individuals, settling down to married life in most cases, in greater or less degrees of happiness and usefulness, while among their own people they might well have become effective servants of humanity. It is indeed a question to be considered seriously and sympathetically and from a broad point of view, nor can it be settled right away. Possibly in the days to come when our Indian people will be fully recognized, as they are beginning to be today, as a vital part of the nation, with an important and long needed contribution to make to national and world-wide welfare and culture, those who have strayed away may directly, or indirectly through their children, find the parts they are destined to play. Meantime, all honor to those who having gone away to acquire a thorough education in the outside world, do come back to serve their own people, and the church of their childhood which first awakened them to the new life!

Early in 1898 Miss Thackara made a trip to New York to interest our church people in her new project. Wherever she told her story she made new friends, so that she secured enough funds to provide the salary for a certin "lady physician" for one year. This was Dr. Mary E. Pradt Harper, who was at once appointed for the position at the hospital, but who could not arrive until August. Immediately after her arrival she went to work in earnest, not only in the hospital but among the Indians all about. She certainly was a success, and in writing to the Bishop not long after, Miss Thackara said, "she is wonderfully fitted for this work. She is a very small woman, but can endure long journeys (on horseback) over the mountains, camping out at night. Her acquaintance is already quite extensive, and the Indians are delighted with her. I wish I could tell you half the interesting experiences she has had, and what she brings to the hospital." As for that, all the members of the hospital staff were continually showing a fine hospitality to the families of the patients, although it severly taxed the resources of the Mission to do so. This had the great advantage of establishing friendships with the Indians and in opening the way for Missionary work among this nomadic people, whom it was hard to reach in other ways. Then in this same letter followed a sentence which three years later would prove to have been prophetic and quite significant: "They are a pastoral people. Their attachment to their flocks is a feature of their character. They would understand and appreciate in each home a picture of "the Good Shepherd", as their daily life makes it familiar."

In this connection, in a letter to the Bishop, Miss Thackara mentioned the need of funds to provide an Indian boy with a horse, to be a companion and interpreter for Dr. Harper on her trips to visit the out-patients, which sometimes took several days. A house for such a boy to occupy was soon put up, and was called the "Boy's House". The first boy to use it was Clarence Gatewood, who had come with his family from the immediate neighborhood. The family was from that time to become very closely associated with the Mission for many years. The house was built in three sections connected by temporary wooden chambers, so as to permit changes to be made to provide for different and wider uses in the days to come; possibly for a laundry. As they were, one room was to be used by the Gatewoods, another for an additional worker, and the third for a reception room for visiting Indians.

[23] At about this time another 'helper' arrived. It was a Miss Garrett from Virginia. She was to be a teacher for the children connected with the Mission. She soon built up an interesting and much needed work among these little ones, some of whom were brought in from their near-by homes. No further mention is made of Miss Garrett in letters or reports, and it is not known how long she stayed. But the idea of such a school was excellent and was adopted some years later.

For a closer spiritual supervision than he alone could give, Bishop Kendrick planned to appoint officially our Missionary in Gallup as "Chaplain", and this plan worked out satisfactorily for several years. At this particular time the Chaplain was the Rev. Mr. Garrison, and he made frequent trips over the thirty miles of terrible roads to reach the hospital, and his successor at Gallup, the Rev. Robert Reminson, accompanied the Bishop to Fort Defiance in February of 1899. They also held a service at the government school, and at the Mission the Bishop baptized three children and celebrated the Holy Communion. This was the first Communion service to be held at the Mission.

At the annual Convocation of the district, held in Phoenix on June 1 and 2, 1899, our hospital at Fort Defiance was for the first time regularly recorded in the official list of Missions. Bishop Kendrick, in his address, said:

"The buildings make an impressive group and are sightly and substantial. The hospital has now fairly commenced its work. Much is still needed in the way of service and equipment, but patients can now be received and cared for. The Indians are becoming interested, and hostility and prejudice are disappearing. Even a medicine man comes in now and then to be treated. Miss Thackara has her hands full. The general work requires her most active superintendence. With her other duties she has a large correspondence. One of the last letters I had from her was written at two in the morning."

Miss Thackara was indeed a remarkable woman, as has been indicated before, and she was certainly a happy choice as Superintendent of our new Missionary hospital. She always had great respect for the Navajo character and personality. Recognizing his natural faults, she could yet understand the man beneath and the fine qualities he possessed. She went about among the people and worked with them and for them as a real friend, and they soon recognized her as such. Their superstitions troubled them, of course, especially their shin-de complex, which was most apparent in the presence of death, with their dread of contamination by contact with a dead person. Their barbarous custom for generations had been to carry a hopelessly sick person, even a little child, out on the hillside as far as possible from their hogan, and leave him there to die rather than to risk the influence of evil spirits by allowing him to die peacefully at home! Although at this particular time some of them, at least, claimed that the "shin-de did not come to the white man's house", yet Miss Thackara was very careful in the whole matter and more than once had to carry a little dead child in her own arms to the grave, the father perhaps showing his 'great courage' by following at a safe distance! She also showed her tactfulness in not too directly opposing the native superstitions or interfering with certain ancient customs in a way that would shock the imbedded beliefs of the people. She even won the confidence of some of the medicine men, so that occasionally they allowed her to be present during their wild incantations over the sick, a "singing" as they called it. On some of these occasions, when they had finished, she would say, "my brothers, you have done your part, now I will do mine". Then she would bathe the sick one, use some simple remedies and say a short prayer. And, as Bishop Kendrick used to say, "God and his pure mountain air did the rest". If the patient recovered, as was frequently the case, very likely the medicine men would get the credit, but that didn't trouble Miss Thackara overly much.

On May 21st of this year, (1899), Miss Thackara wrote to the Bishop that a party of Indians had left for the government Indian School in Phoenix, taking with them a young Navajo who had been working at the Mission several months. He had come there ignorant and uncivilized, but had so changed his ideas that he wanted the advantage of an education such as he could not get at Fort Defiance, although Miss Thackara herself had taught him to read, and had aroused his ambition to go further. This most laudable desire of the young man suggested to her the idea of sending her young protegee, Glympba, to Phoenix also, for she had expressed her desire to go. And she did go, [23/24] taking with her a younger half-sister. Glympba had worked hard at the Mission, helping in many ways, and Miss Thackara had found her quite invaluable, and was glad to give her the opportunity of obtaining the education she had longed for. As it happened, there were already at the Phoenix school a number of Navajos, some of whom were friends of Glympba, which would be to her advantage. The only regret that Miss Thackara had was that the girl would not be under church influences, unless some special plan could be worked out for her attendance at Trinity Church, but this proved not to be feasible and the plan could not be carried out. However, in later years just such a plan was adopted and proved to be very useful.

In October the Bishop visited the Mission, accompanied by his daughter, Elizabeth, who had become his secretary and was to make other visits with her father in many parts of his district. On this visit the Bishop baptized a little girl named "Eva Alice" who was in the government school. She had been quite ill and did not survive many weeks. Writing to Miss Jay on December 7, 1899, Miss Thackara expressed great discouragement on account of the continued lack of sufficient funds to carry on the work satisfactorily, but in the same letter she was able to tell with joy the great things that were going-on, many interesting and serious cases had been successfully treated. One patient was an old "witch doctor" who had been badly injured and was brought to the hospital to die, his friends feeling sure that the shin-des would not trouble him there. They were quite right and the old fellow got well and seemed very grateful, although it is not recorded that he gave up his profitable practices. Continuing her letter, Miss Thackara spoke of the new dining room where eight patients could come, she herself always taking her meals with them, presiding at the head of the table, with her interpreter at the foot. "It is very pleasant", she said; "How different from the entertainment in the Indian huts! I do believe in the future of this work; there never has been any Mission among these Indians that has brought forth results in a shorter time!" And then she expressed her joy at receiving an organ. It was placed in the interpreter's house where the patients and staff had been accustomed to gather frequently for singing and informal services. Also a new and permanent stable had been completed, "the greatest improvement and comfort on the place." One wonders if she ranked the stable above the organ; anyway we know that her human kindness was not confined to Indians, and her attitude towards god's dumb creatures was a fine example to her people, for it is well known that Indians in general are far from being considerate of their domestic animals. Then continuing she spoke of Glympba, far away in the Phoenix school, whom she greatly missed, but who was improving in every way.

As for herself, she was so busy all the time that she had no time to read the church papers which she received from her friends, or anything else, much less could she sit down and write any but the most important letters--not even to her own family. This constant pressure for time, equally with her perpetual anxiety about the lack of sufficient funds to 'carry on', was to become her almost daily experience, such as would have completely exhausted many another Missionary in the great field. Another annoyance was, and continued to be, the constant change in the personnel of her staff and of all her helpers. During this month of December (1899), her efficient doctor, Miss Harper, resigned and went to Gallup where she was to open an office for herself. To Miss Jay she wrote in January, "Miss Harper was tired of this hard work." This was natural enough. However, Miss Thackara went on in her letter to praise the doctor most highly for her great ability and popularity, as well as for her fitness for her work, as she daily had won the confidence of the Indians. All the more for this very reason was it hard to give her up. And she added, "But, her zeal gave out!" Very true indeed, and the same thing might be said of more than one Missionary. Mighty few have shown the consecrated zeal of this one devoted servant of the Lord! Dr. Smith of the agency was then engaged to help at the hospital, and not long afterward Dr. Zadok P. Henry arrived from Maryland to become the regular Mission doctor. For all her discouragement at the turn of events, and the pressing need of more adequate support, our indomitable missionary was brave and undaunted and could express her keen joy over the Christmas doings as almost the happiest Christmas and new year she had spent in Arizona. They had had a joyful Christmas service in which the new organ had taken its part, as they sang the old hymns and carols, and the Indians had enjoyed it, although they could not understand a word. "Watchman, tell us of the night" seemed to be a favorite; and in each hymn it was doubtless the music with its melody and rhythm that appealed to them--quite different from their own 'singings'.

[25] Writing again to Miss Jay in January, 1900, Miss Thackara mentioned two persons who today are alive and active and who remember her with affection. One of these is Hosteen Nez ("tall man") who had been seriously injured and had been for some time at the hospital. He afterwards became her "right-hand man", helping directly at the Mission for a long time, and then responding to special emergency calls in the line of building and repairing as well as farming and many other duties. He had been baptized as "Robert E. Lee", (we wonder if that was not Miss Thackara's suggestion, as a veritable southerner), and later his son was baptized with the same name, and much later a grand-daughter "Bessie" was active at the Mission in various ways. A very useful and devoted family they proved to be. The other child mentioned in the letter was "Nellie". She was a sister of Jim Damon who for years lived about a mile away and was also closely associated with the work and had all his children baptized. Looking ahead in our narrative, his four splendid boys were all in World War II, and he himself had become Warden of the Mission. He had a fine command of the english language and was always delighted to be called upon to read the lessons at the services. As for Nellie, she had come as a patient at the hospital, and although only nine years old, was most intelligent and also a very good interpreter, and remained awhile to help Miss Thackara, who became very fond of her as she more or less took the place of Glympba in her interest and affection. In later years Nellie married a neighbor of their family, a Mr. Alexander Black. He had come to the agency as a Presbyterian Missionary but soon decided that he would do better as a trader, since the Navajo language proved to be rather too much for him! So he opened a little store near the Damon ranch and appropriately situated on the bank of "Black Creek", where for many years he has been a good friend of the Navajo and a cordial backer of our Mission, although remaining a staunch Presbyterian.

This winter, (1899-1900), so far had been remarkable for its mildness, but it had been a hard time for the Mission on account of the serious lack of funds which soon reached a climax, so that Miss Thackara had to write again in February that, although there was not a cent of debt on any of the buildings, yet "if we break down now, it is only because we lack bread!" Fortunately relief must have come soon, for we can find no record of further appeals at this time. Meantime Jim Damon had become the official interpreter, following Clarence Gatewood who himself had been a patient since the preceding fall, but had recovered completely and had gone home with a young bride. The interpreter before him had been Nelson Gorman.

For several months after Dr. Harper's departure the Mission had been without a regular doctor, although Dr. Smith, the agency physician, had attended to the actual needs of the hospital, and his services had been greatly appreciated. However on the 28th of April, 1900, a new doctor arrived from the east, the Board of Missions having voted to continue the appropriation which had been made for Dr. Harper. This new doctor was a Miss Robinson, who at Bishop Kendrick's request, had been met at Gallup by the Rev. W. R. Seaborne, vicar of our church in that town, and who was also ex-officio Chaplain of our Mission. He piloted Dr. Robinson over the long, rough trail to Fort Defiance, where she was welcomed by the Mission staff and began work without delay. The spring and summer of 1900 passed with no outstanding events, but in September, from the 6th to the 9th, the Bishop and the "Chaplain" made a visitation during which the Holy Communion was celebrated and one Navajo infant was baptized at the Mission, and a preaching service was held at the agency.

Now the curtain of our unfolding drama is dropped until January 10 and 11, 1901, when two letters were hurried off to Miss Bolton in which Miss Thackara gave account of her financial stewardship and made a vigorous appeal for more funds for maintenance. She made clear that at the very least $200.00 a month would be needed to carry on the work. Then she made emphatic the absolute necessity of having new "assistants" in addition to her regular staff. These would be a cook, an interpreter, who would also take charge of the laundry, and an "outside man" to look after the stable and the team, and do the hauling that was constantly necessary. For the three she would need $75.00 a month in all. Then in a more encouraging vein, she gave an account of her clinical work, saying that since September 1st, twenty-seven patients had been cared for. As to any outside work, she declared that she had not been able to make any calls because she could not leave the hospital. On this same day she wrote out a typed report in which she mentioned a recent trip she had made with the Bishop to Santa Fe where they had called on two Navajo girls at the government school whom she had known as children. She did not mention their names but said she hoped to secure them in the [25/26] following summer to train them for hospital service, since it was very hard to get girls because they marry so early; often they are sold by their fathers to their prospective husbands, who might be most undesirable, and some of them old men. Once married, these girls would almost always revert to the life of the savage. "It is time we began in earnest the work among women," she said, and then she told of the difficulties she had found in obtaining girls. One difficulty was that the government schools were unwilling to let capable girls go. Another was that "the Roman Missions recently organized are pressing on. They are about to establish a large school at a Mission nine miles from us at St. Michael's. They always have money. The Sisters and the Priests are watching us. They came to see me; they want to know what is going on at the hospital, and how we do our work. Now one of the girls I want, they are making the greatest effort to secure for themselves; they must not get her!"

What she said about the Romish Missionaries as always being able to get money for their endeavors brings out in clear contrast the constant need of more adequate support which Miss Thackara struggled against most of the time. "No one can know as well as I do", she said, "how much we need money. It is not just to keep the work alive--simply to exist and not break down; we are building for the future, and a great work is before us, and money we must have." She was, in fact, very nearly breaking down herself, and the Bishop had for some time been trying to get her to take another trip to the east, to rest as well as to solicit funds, leaving a new assistant who had recently come, to take charge. This was a Miss Virginia Azpell whom Miss Thackara valued most highly, as not only a real Missionary but as a person of refinement and culture, in whose companionship she took delight. But she did not feel that this assistant was equal to the trying experience of managing the Mission in her absence, with no one to help her but a little lad named "Yah Kee", especially in the existing financial crisis. It was soon after this that Miss Fannie Schuyler, to whom Miss Thackara had again appealed for help, wrote an interesting letter to Bishop Kendrick suggesting that some "rich Arizonians be asked to endow the hospital". To which the good Bishop, in a characteristic manner, replied: "what I have to say is that rich Arizonians don't live in Arizona. The men who make the money out of this country are your eastern people. The men who make the money out of our great mines, the men who own our railroads, the men who own our cattle, don't live here; or the women either, these people make their money out of us and spend it somewhere else. These are the men and women who ought to endow our hospital, as they are indebted to this country for their wealth. We have no wealthy 'laity' out here. We are poor, poor, poor! This makes the financial difficulty with all our church work."


From time to time Miss Thackara would write with great interest about various children who, having been actually orphans, or practically abandoned by their families, had been cared for at the hospital as their only home. In a special letter to the Bishop's new quarterly, "The New Mexico and Arizona Mission", she had this to say about them:

"Several we may consider as really belonging to us. The rest are with us for a longer or shorter time. One very pretty little boy is here with his old grand-parents. The old grandfather is a patient; he is probably seventy-five years old, and is one of the oldest medicine men on the reservation. It was necessary to amputate his foot. We were very anxious about the case at first, the old man was so feeble; but he is doing well and will soon be quite recovered. The old wife is the dearest old Indian woman I know. She is so bright, so sweet-tempered, never the least impatient with the old man, whom she watches over with the greatest solicitude. We have not been able to induce her to sleep in a bed; she lies on her sheep-skins before the open fire. Her little grandson shares her bed, for he will not be separated from her, and she bestows upon him the most tender care and love. . . . The affection of these Indians for their parents and the loving care of the old ones for the little ones is very attractive and touching."

Another child was the little "Yah Kee", already mentioned; his first name was Henry, but he wasn't called by it. He had come to the hospital in 1899, a lad of twelve years. He was accompanied by an old grandmother, another younger woman, and a little girl, all on Indian ponies; the boy himself was on a stretcher of sheep-skins on poles, carried by two men. They had come over a hundred miles to bring him, suffering cruelly with hip disease. He was admitted at once to the hospital where he was to remain for four years under the tender care and treatment of his new friends. He was intelligent and lovable, and naturally became very dear to all hearts. He learned english rapidly; both to read and to write, and soon gave up the old superstitions in which he had been raised by his own people, and asked of his own accord to be baptized. Miss Thackara, returning from one of her eastern trips, brought him a cornet which he learned to play; after three years he was able to go about, and it was then that his wish to be baptized was fulfilled. Always eager for an education, he wanted to go with a party of Navajo youth to the Phoenix Indian School. But his father would not consent, saying that the boy was needed to tend the sheep. Very sadly he brought his books and cornet and other treasures to Miss Thackara, saying, "there is no place to take them to, no house; I must go with my sheep." He made no complaint, but sadly went his way. Somewhat later Miss Thackara wrote to Miss Schuyler that 'little Yah Kee had returned and was very sick and that his disease was causing him great suffering.' She dreaded anything serious happening to him. However, she could before long, write again, "this evening's mail brought a letter for our dear little Yah Kee, all the way from New York. The joy of the little fellow was touching." Whoever sent this letter would have been highly gratified, for Miss Thackara gave it to him right from the mail bag, and another boy, Kee Iso, tried to enlighten him as to the method of opening it, and Miss Thackara continued to say in her letter:

"It was a great feature of the evening; all the Indians present being much interested; when Yah Kee opened it he found two beautiful easter cards, and was overwhelmed with joy to think that some kind friend so far away had sent him a 'nalsos' (letter) all for himself."

A year or two later the lad disappeared. Many efforts were made to find him, but without success until five or six years. Later when he came to the hospital to find Miss Thackara who happened to be away on one of her trips. Not finding her he went on; he did, however, leave a letter for her saying that he had grown tall and had found a position as interpreter, and assuring her that "he was a Christian and was trying to be a good boy."

[28] At a meeting of Convocation on April 25 and 26, 1901, in Phoenix, Bishop Kendrick spoke of Miss Thackara as "one of the heroines of our domestic Mission field", and well he might say so, as all who knew her could testify. In this same address he mentioned with satisfaction the now regularly established custom for the children in all the Sunday schools in the district to devote their advent offerings to the work of the Hospital of the Good Shepherd, "an opportune help to Miss Thackara."

With all her regular duties and the weight of her great responsibilities, plus her attempts to write letters to her eastern friends, who were exacting in their demands for information, it was no wonder that Miss Thackara became thoroughly worn out. So it was that in July of 1901 she left on a much needed vacation trip to Baltimore and other eastern points, to visit her relatives, especially her sister in the mountains of North Carolina. She felt secure in leaving the hospital at this time because of her complete confidence in Miss Azpell, and also because of the arrival of the three girls from Santa Fe. But her well earned vacation was all too soon to be cut short by sudden emergencies at the Mission which caused Miss Azpell to send for her. It seems that one of the babies, the one-year-old child of Clarence Nelson, had died, and shortly afterward, the colored cook, Betty, died suddenly. These two deaths had excited the Indians and upset Miss Azpell, who had to bear all the responsibility. To make matters worse, the government doctor was away on a trip. So back to the hospital Miss Thackara went as fast as possible. Before leaving however, she had seen Glympba, her adopted child in Philadelphia, and had planned for her to return to Fort Defiance with Miss Thackara's sister, Mrs. A. W. Palmer, who was expecting to visit the Mission in the fall. Miss Thackara's plan had been to train Glympba along various lines for ultimate service at the hospital.

In the fall of this year, (1901), Miss Thackara made another trip to the east, but this time it was chiefly to speak at various meetings in and near New York. In the meantime the new government doctor had been appointed, but evidently he was not the right kind, at least as far as our hospital work was concerned, for Bishop Kendrick, writing to Miss Schuyler in December had said, "I wish that we could put the hospital into permanent working order. Things cannot go on forever with such a doctor at the agency. A new physician there would probably relieve the situation. I have thought sometimes that it might be well to represent the case to the Indian department. But I do not like to take any action without Miss Thackara's approval. I shall talk over everything with her when I see her." The Bishop did not care to take upon himself too great a load of responsibility for the financial situation and expressed himself strongly to Miss Schuyler a month later in these words:

"This hospital at Fort Defiance grew out of Mr. Herbert Welsh's interest in the Navajo Indians. It was he who interested the Westchester branch. I have done what I could to give the Indians the benefit of this interest. But I cannot undertake to manage this hospital or to be financially responsible for it, or to raise money for it . . . nor can I give to the hospital funds that come to me that are needed for other purposes . . . I will help the hospital, but I dare not assume it. I am very grateful to the Westchester branch for what it has done and I shall be very grateful for what it can do. This hospital is indeed a blessed work. What you have done has been worth doing. And only a beginning has been made."

Evidently this emphatic statement of the Bishop made considerable impression, so that Miss Schuyler mentioned the matter to Miss Thackara, who in a letter to her on January 27, 1902 spoke most appreciatingly of the Bishop's devotion to the hospital and of his efforts to do all he could for it, in addition to all the needs of his large field.

Now again was this indefatigable Missionary planning another trip to the east, where she expected to be with her sister, Mrs. Palmer of Baltimore, and was making up her schedule of talks in that city, in Philadelphia and other places. However, the severity of the weather and the terrible condition of the road to Gallup detained her so that she did not get away until the latter part of February, 1902. On the way she stopped at various places to good advantage. "I have been making friends all the way [28/29] on", she said, "in Chicago, Washington, and Hampton, for the hospital." She especially wanted to speak at "Old Swedes", or "Gloria Dei", as it was also called, in Philadelphia, because the rector had helped her greatly and was planning to have his Sunday school make a special Easter offering for the hospital. Already this school had made several large donations, some of over $100.00, and members of the congregation had also made substantial contributions.

At Hampton she had seen Mary, one of her devoted Navajo girls who was studying there, and whom she had great hopes of training as a Missionary among her own people. Unfortunately the girl had developed a serious case of T. B. and Miss Thackara wanted to get her back to Fort Defiance where at the hospital, and in her own native climate, she might have a better chance to recover. Her little protegee, Glympba, had been sick while in Philadelphia, but had completely recovered after she had gone home, and the same thing might be true of Mary, she hoped. After several weeks of visiting and making addresses in eastern cities, she returned home quite well satisfied with the success of her trip.

At the annual Convocation which met in Prescott on April 25th, the Bishop in his address made special mention of the increasing influence of the Navajo work, in spite of the scant accommodations of the hospital. "It is to be kept in mind", he said, "that this institution is primarily a Mission, and its success is not to be estimated by number of patients treated, but by the influence exerted, the extent of which no statistics can show." Would that all Bishops and all friends and supporters from afar, of all the church's Missionary work, especially those in high official authority, could realize the truth of Bishop Kendrick's assertion; statistics in cold printers' ink not only can convey absolutely wrong impressions, but can never measure the value of spiritual endeavor! And yet even statistics can be illuminating and most heartening, if they surely indicate spiritual advance and wholesome growth, as the following incident clearly shows. In June of this year 1902, the Rev. W. R. Seaborne, our Missionary at Gallup and "ex officio" Chaplain of our Navajo Mission, made a visitation by himself, the Bishop at the time being unable to accompany him, and let us allow Mr. Seaborne to tell his own story, as he did later in "The Bishop's Quarterly" for October:

"On Tuesday, June 17th, I had the pleasure of a drive to the Navajo Mission hospital near Fort Defiance, where I found fourteen candidates for the rite of holy baptism. Five of these were young men--and it was their own desire and request that they were received into "Christ's flock". It would be difficult to describe the great improvement made in the whole make up of these young people, who a short time before were no way different from the rest of their tribe . . . Since "seeing is believing", I wish our church people in the east and elsewhere could see what is being done; they could not help being convinced of the great importance of the work . . . The government is doing much to help and to educate these Indians, but it cannot be expected to do the church's work, and I can conceive of no better or more successful way of winning them than through the Mission hospital."

The names of those baptized have been preserved in the parish register of our Mission in Gallup, the "Church of the Holy Spirit". They are: Richard David Moss, Nelson Carl Gorman, John Grant Gorman, Arthur Palmer Gorman, Henry Yahkee, Clarence Cotton Gatewood, Bertha Gatewood, "Zulki", "Zahne", "Azulsi", A zul chi ni", "A dit si hi", Anna Holden. This Henry Yahkee must have been "Yah Kee" referred to in previous pages.

Looking back for a moment to the Bishop's 'report' of January 6, 1899, we recall that he had mentioned the attachment that Navajos have for their flocks as being a feature of their character and said, "they would understand and appreciate pictures of the Good Shepherd, as their daily life would make him familiar." This thought must have been often in his mind as well as that of Miss Thackara, as a fitting name for the Mission. But it was not until three years later that the idea began to bear fruit. This was in September of 1902 when Bishop Kendrick went with Mr. Seaborne to visit Fort Defiance, and doubtless the "Chaplain" told him again the story of his eventful visit in June and his remarkable baptism service. Apparently at this September visit, Miss [29/30] Thackara definitely suggested the name of "The Hospital of the Good Shepherd". However this may have been, it is certain that in writing to Miss Schuyler on October 8th of that year, the Bishop said:

"Greet the Woman's Auxiliary at the meetings of the Archdeaconry, ask the women to do the best they can for the 'Hospital-Mission of the Good Shepherd', as it is to be called now."

During the visit with Mr. Seaborne just mentioned he performed the marriage ceremony for Nelson Carl Gorman and Alice Peshlakai, one of the 'kitchen assistants'. He called Nelson and Clarence Gatewood "Miss Thackara's right-hand men". Alice was a sister of Wallace Peshlakai who will appear later in our story. The Bishop was glad to find at this time at the hospital a Dr. Horace G. Wilson from Baltimore and his wife. He was especially pleased to meet Glympba again and said of her: "as she grows older she is more and more a help to Miss Thackara and will fill an important place in the institution." On the Sunday of their visit the Bishop celebrated the Holy Communion and Mr. Seaborne preached. At evening prayer the order was reversed.

Repairs and improvements had been made that rejoiced Miss Thackara's heart. By removing certain partitions in the building a new ward was made possible, and a slight addition that was made gave a suitable place for a pantry and store-room. One of the small buildings was fitted out for a laundry, and by removing another partition in the main building, "a very bright and pleasant new sitting room" was made possible, and also provided a place for holding services. Then an office was pitied up in the "interpreter's house" for the use of Dr. Wilson.

At about this time, in a letter from Miss Thackara to a friend in the east, she spoke of a new nurse, a Miss Maupin, a communicant of the church. This was pleasing to her to report, but then followed the familiar and all too frequent appeal: "I am entirely out of funds and in debt for all expenses of September, which have been heavy, for we have a large household to provide for, and winter is coming on.'' She especially hoped that the Bishop would see Miss Emery about providing for Miss Maupin's salary. Very shortly after this she wrote to Miss Schuyler of her anxiety about Dr. Wilson's salary, who had already served for two months without a cent of pay. "I am much perplexed, in fact I can scarcely hold up, on account of such great anxiety about money." But she could sound a cheerful note about Miss Maupin: "we have such a lovely nurse; indeed we have a very attractive household. I am sure we are all in earnest and striving to be faithful workers."

But the fact remained that it was often difficult to keep helpers in whatever capacity, and the constant changes in personnel thus made necessary was a distinct handicap to the work. It was no wonder then that the pious women of the Westchester branch should be troubled and puzzled. So in the following autumn Bishop Kendrick wrote to Miss Schuyler to explain the situation, (this was on Nov. 18, 1903). He acknowledged the fact that some of Miss Thackara's helpers had been unsatisfactory and had to be removed. "It was our misfortune", he said, "to get them; it would be our fault to keep them, others have been satisfactory from a professional stand-point, but they were not Missionaries . . . The result was that they tired of the work; it was lonesome for them; they were homesick . . . And left as soon as their year was out. They were everything that could be demanded, socially, personally and professionally, but the Missionary spirit was not in them." However, very soon things took a turn for the better with a new setup and personnel. Mr. Seaborne of Gallup had brought with him from the east, as a member of his household, a Miss Minnie Wilson, a trained nurse, and she readily accepted an appointment as nurse for our hospital. The Bishop called her "an earnest Christian woman, who will be a Missionary as well as a nurse." Telling Miss Schuyler about all this in a letter of February 12, 1904, the Bishop said of Miss Thackara, "she is a brave woman, the bravest of us all out here. Her supreme interest is for the souls of these people. She gets at them in their own way. They will open their hearts to her as they will to no one else. With a stranger they are silent, but Miss Thackara has their confidence and affection."

This is a good time for us to pause awhile to hear about some other native children who made their homes at our Mission. One was "Zulki", already mentioned, a five year old cripple, but otherwise perfectly healthy and very intelligent. Then there was Alice, a three year old in poor health, who improved greatly. Her father was a graduate of [30/31] Carlisle; he and his wife begged to have the child brought up at the Mission. For the most part, however, only those who had no parents or had been practically abandoned were given this special privilege of being absorbed into the Mission family. Such a one was "Zultzi", a genuine orphan whom Miss Thackara took in and became her godmother. This child was the first of many godchildren to be brought up by Miss Thackara. Little George, the son of the interpreter Clarence Gatewood, was born at the Mission and soon became a great pet of all. He grew up and made a good record for himself. Such great interest did this noble Christian woman take in all these little folk that she remarked one day, "I sometimes think we will have to make this a 'children's hospital'". These words were prophetic, as subsequent events, as yet far off, would one day show. At the Convocation held in Tucson two months later, (May 8 and 9, 1904), Bishop Kendrick repeated this statement approvingly. On Ascension Day, following Convocation, the Bishop visited "Good Shepherd" and after the Holy Communion, baptized seventeen Indians, men, women, and children, and preached at the agency in the evening.

The government had recently appointed a new physician at the agency, a Dr. A. M. Wigglesworth. He at once became deeply interested in our hospital, so much so, in fact, that a year later he wrote a most appreciative letter to "The Indian School Journal" published at Chilocco, Oklahoma, and this letter was afterwards printed as a leaflet for distribution. Dr. Wigglesworth became indeed a faithful friend and advocate of the Mission and was permitted by the government to give part time to our hospital work.

The next occasion of major importance was the coming in the spring of 1906 of a Deaconess. This greatly rejoiced the heart of Miss Thackara who had long hoped to have such a helper. This one had been at one time a Missionary in Japan and had broken down in health and had been obliged to come home on a furlough. After her recovery it was thought to be unsafe for her to return to Japan, and so she was able and most glad to accept a position at Good Shepherd, and at once revealed her fitness for the work. Soon after this, Miss Thackara's interesting protegee, Glympba, returned from her sojourn at the Phoenix Indian School, and according to her devoted patroness, "is very capable and will be most helpful to the Deaconess." A new nurse had also joined the hospital staff, a Miss Virginia Brainard, who was confirmed by Bishop on his visit in June of 1906, when he also baptized several Indians.

The constant need of funds for the support of the Mission was always, as you have seen, a matter of deep concern and of no little anxiety to Miss Thackara, so it is refreshing to know that the year 1907 was a period of comparative prosperity for the work, and that the year closed without a cent of debt! This was undoubtedly due to the devotion of many interested friends, as individuals and as organizations that contributed generously to the Mission because they believed in it heartily, and because they believed in Miss Thackara. A large part of the contributions came from various branches of the "W. A.", not only the Westchester branch, which from the beginning had so willingly and constantly sponsored the great undertaking, but also branches in Chicago, Pittsburg, Detroit, Florida, South Carolina, and eastern Maryland, as well as the few branches recently organized in Arizona and New Mexico. The advent offerings of the Arizona Sunday Schools added to the amount, and the old stand-by, the Indian Rights Association made a special donation.

While it is true that the material and necessary financial needs of this great work were always unhappily prominent from day to day, yet it must be remembered that underneath and running through all, the religious and spiritual motives were always most evident, for after all, these were what the Mission was founded for. To accomplish and develop this high purpose there was a great need of a central place of worship, adequately and reverently equipped for religious training and expression. This need was felt increasingly as the months passed, and was especially emphasized whenever the Bishop made his visits. It was during this eventful year of 1907 that Miss Thackara made a special trip to the east in the spring to arouse interest in the whole project and especially to secure funds for the erection of a Chapel. Everywhere she met with a ready response and as often happened, she made many new friends among individuals and organizations. But although this year stands out in our story as one of fine achievements in the comparative lack of the usual financial difficulties, and the excellent record of good work accomplished, yet it had its shadows also which unfortunately have to be recorded. When Miss Thackara returned from her visit she [31/32] found a distressing state of affairs; the Deaconess, supposedly so faithful, had become most autocratic, in fact positively cruel, in her treatment of her fellow-workers, so that nearly all the native assistants had left, and even the excellent new nurse, Miss Eyre, had endured so much that she was about to pack her trunk and take her leave. However, it was the Deaconess herself and not the nurse who had to go, although Miss Thackara was exceedingly charitable in her judgments, saying of the Deaconess, "the young woman was in a morbid condition, for she is a diseased woman."

All these things Miss Thackara reported to the Convocation of 1908, although she touched lightly on the unhappy events and stressed the splendid program of activities for the year. One hundred and thirty patients had been cared for. And there had never been a time when there were no patients in the hospital. Many eye cases had been treated because of the dread trachoma, so widely prevalent among the Indians. The ever faithful Dr. Wigglesworth had continued his ministrations, although at the beginning of the year there had been some anxiety lest he might not be permitted by the government authorities to carry on his special work. Fortunately, however, the Commissioner of Indian Affairs officially ruled that since the hospital had been founded "for aiding and assisting the Indians" the arrangement might continue. Afterward this same Commissioner, Mr. Francis E. Leupp, showed great interest in all that was being done, saying to Miss Thackara, "I wish we had a hundred such hospitals for Indians."


Another happy occasion at about this time was the arrival of a new housekeeper. She was a Miss Martha White, a member of "the Society of Friends", and she did indeed prove herself worthy of the name, for she became a 'friend' of all--"so capable and so earnest and so truthful. It is lovely to see her influence for good among the Indians. Tell her she is a born Missionary." Well indeed could Miss Thackara say this of Miss White, and write, "Our little hospital is known all over this large Reservation. The Indians come long distances for treatment." And then she told of one woman who had ridden alone a hundred and fifty miles, very sick but determined to reach the hospital.

The constant changes in the personnel of the Mission was doubtless inevitable from the beginning, although naturally they presented very trying experiences to those in charge. The reasons for these many changes were various and often quite obvious; it is not necessary to discuss them further. But one interesting fact suggested by these changes should be mentioned; it is in regard to the contribution to the personnel made by native helpers, who at different times were sojourning at the hospital for care or treatment, and at the same time gave efficient help, and also received effective training along various lines. Among these was "Kes-bah", or Mattie. Back in the days before the hospital was actually started, while Miss Thackara was a teacher in the government school at Fort Defiance, she had become interested in this little girl, and afterwards when the child was sent to the Indian school at Santa Fe, Miss Thackara would have Mattie visit her at the new hospital during her vacations, in the hope that she could be trained as a helper and find her place among the Mission workers. This hope was a least partly fulfilled, and later Mattie came to help Miss Eyre, the nurse, as her "assistant". She was doing very well and gave great promise of future usefulness, when alas, a romance developed! The other party to this romance was "Hoska", an experienced stone worker. Well, there was a wedding, with a young Presbyterian Missionary in charge, and of course, a feast of candy and peanuts and a general good time by all. However, "Kes-bah" did not have to leave right away, for a place was found for "Hoska" on the building crew, and the bride continued to help Miss Eyre with faithfulness and efficiency. Fortunate it was indeed, for in the fall "our devoted young nurse, Miss Eyre" had to leave, and Mattie carried on until a new nurse could be found. For many years now Mattie has lived near by on the road to the fort, and has ever been a good friend of the Mission.

Miss Thackara was not preeminent as a 'business woman', and with all the time and energy, as well as heart and soul, that she was daily putting into her splendid service, she had little time to put into keeping acoounts or making reports, or even of writing letters. But in a letter to Miss Potter of New York on November 9, 1907, she made her first really business-like statement of expenses and needs, as follows:

To run the hospital as we have during the past year will cost $5000.00; this does not include any improvements, but covering, I believe, [32/33] expenses. It pays the salaries; the doctor $1500.00, the Nurse $500.00, interpreter $300.00, housekeeper $420.00, my own salary, and the Indian assistants we must employ; our drugs, forage, supplies, etc., etc. Then she admitted that she would be relieved, if she could make her budget six or eight thousand!

She had been much amused, and of course gratified, by a recent letter from Mrs. John Henry Hopkins, president of the Chicago branch of the "W. A." in which she was asked if she could use one hundred or two hundred dollars to advantage: to which she replied, "could use twenty hundred!" But in the letter to Miss Potter, just mentioned, she added:

"One thing which is most embarrassing is the want of ready money. You have no idea how much greater expenses are when we buy on credit, as I do, not being able to lay in supplies at the proper season."

The result of this letter, and of previous letters, was that the Westchester branch sent out a typed circular letter, dated November, 1907, which contained many interesting statements, of which here are a few:

"Miss Thackara has been working there among the Navajo Indians for twelve years. She has before her the purpose of uplifting the Indian, physically, morally and spiritually. As you know civilization has brought him little but despair and disease. She would show him that Christ did not mean it so; that though his lands are gone, he may still have a home and a hope among us. The work of the hospital has grown so greatly that the contributions have been inadequate to its support. Miss Thackara has used her own salary for the hospital, and she has gone without necessary help that she might not turn suffering Indians away. Is it fair, that a woman of her gift of reaching people's hearts and healing their souls and bodies should, for lack of support, cook, wash, and garden, and worry over the impossibility of making both ends meet?

The report made by the Board of Missions for the quarter ending March, April and May, 1907, states that there were treated in wards, fifty; discharged cured, twenty-nine; dispensary patients, one hundred and seven. Miss Thackara needs $600.00 a year to run the hospital on its present limited basis. She has never had more than about $4000.00, and that not to be counted on, and she would like to be able to depend on $7000.00. She has formed a centre in the wilderness where people come from miles away. She needs a priest to help to lead grateful souls . . . to God. Miss Thackara is modest, devout, uplifted, living only for the good of others. She has given the best years of her life and we beg you to hold up her hands now, for she is discouraged, weary. Give all you can at once . . . This will enable Miss Thackara to have competent helpers and leave her more time to use her abilities for the special work in the hospital, which she alone can do."

All this time the hospital was growing in popularity and in the genuine affection of the natives, because of the kind and effective treatment received by all who entered it. This was true even when absolute cures were not possible, for the Indians were appreciative, and this feeling, plus their natural awe at what was done, opened up avenues of approach for Christian teaching. This, after all, was the one thing desired by Miss Thackara and her most devout fellow-workers, and certainly by Bishop Kendrick who stood behind the whole Mission and its work. The building itself, which was of a very light grey stone, shone out as a clear white land-mark across the plains. The Indians called it "Kin Ligai", the "White House". Miss Thackara was the center and soul of the work, for it was a part of her very being. It was not surprising, therefore, that the Mission should be often spoken of as "Miss Thackara's Hospital" by her many friends, especially those of the Westchester branch. And therefore, also it was not surprising that the 'powers that be' at 281 Fourth Avenue in New York were a bit troubled about it and feared that they might be regarded as supporting a private [33/34] institution! Therefore, immediately after the General Convention of 1907 Bishop Kendrick thought it would be well to have a talk with the Rev. Arthur Selden Lloyd, the efficient Secretary of the Board of Missions. In this conversation the good Bishop made it perfectly clear just what was the status of the Hospital-Mission and its organization. What he said apparently satisfied Dr. Lloyd, although the Bishop's complete washing of his hands of all financial responsibility might have been questioned.


It was at about this time that the sad news came ofhe death of Miss Cornelia Jay, and it was natural and quite fitting that it was decided that a chapel, which had been contemplated for some time, should be built as a memorial to her, as the "Cornelia Jay Memorial Chapel". Miss Thackara was most gratified and spoke of it "as to be made beautiful for the people; and may God incline their hearts", and continuing she said, "as a tribe, the Navajos are far from being Christianized and are difficult to reach, but they have come in to us to heal their poor bodies, and will continue to come; shall we neglect any means to lighten their darkness? We must build the Chapel!" It is true that even with no chapel, Miss Thackara attended devotedly to the religious needs of her growing 'family' which included such Indians as could and would come, and it is remarkable how many did want to come to devotional meetings. She had a short form of Morning Prayer, with instruction, right after breakfast each day in "our sitting-room; there is a bright open fire and it is so nice and warm." Mentioning the children in one of her letters, she said, "Thomas, now eleven, Zultzi, fourteen, and 'Chilly'; Kesbah, or Mattie, and her husband, Hoska, and Clarence, the interpreter; we have a bright and happy household. I do not believe there are many hospitals like this; it seems like one large, happy family."

This happy group had its usual "Merry Christmas" in reality with 'many loving Christmas remembrances from distant friends', and of course, the inevitable tree. One of the best gifts received was "our new nurse, Miss Wilhelmina Hamilton--she is the daughter of a clergyman, the Rev. R. G. Hamilton of Valdoster, Georgia. It took a long time to find just the right kind of a nurse. This is a difficult position for a nurse--there is so much depending on her being fully capable--ready for any emergency . . . One who has tact and is pleasing to the Indians . . . I think Miss Hamilton is going to be a comfort". And so it proved for she appealed to the Indians; they liked her and called her "Es San", a tall, large woman.

Let us glance for a moment at a striking illustration of a not unusual day in the active life at the hospital, one also that strongly revealed the need of a chapel. There was a little five-year-old boy who came often to the hospital to visit his father, an eye patient, and was much beloved by all. Shortly after his father had been 'discharged', the little lad was taken sick. His father wanted to take him at once to the hospital where he had been so greatly helped, but a medicine man interfered and influenced the mother to let him treat the child. But the little fellow grew rapidly worse, and being near death, according to the barbarous custom of the tribe, was taken out to a lonely place on the mountain to die! He was there one whole night in the snow and severe cold. In the morning the father in despair and pity went to the child, who was still alive, and brought him to the hospital. He lived just long enough to be baptized, with the father's permission, and Miss Thackara and Miss Hamilton watched tenderly over him. In the afternoon the little body was taken to the Mission cemetery for a Christian burial. The parents were deeply grateful and remained for several days. It was not unusual for parents to bring children for baptism, although they themselves remained still pagan. "We are old" they would say, "and do not want to change our religion, but if it is good for our children, we will bring them to be baptized, and you may teach them."

Now about the chapel; yes, indeed, there must be one to fulfill adequately the spiritual and religious needs of this great Christian Mission and its devoted work for the master and his people. And soon there would take place the actual beginning of the building, and the stone-cutters would be bringing blocks of stone to the site. Already special offerings were coming in, especially one from St. Gabriel's School in Peekskill, New York.

In March, 1908, the spring having begun at last, the work of hauling the stone for the chapel, as well also for a laundry, was actually begun in earnest, and other preparations were pushed forward. The Indian boy, Clarence Gatewood, and also Hoska, the husband of Mattie, and another boy called "De Nay Chilly" were doing their part with the chief workers, while Mattie herself gave valuable assistance to the faithful nurse, Miss Hamilton. Dr. Wigglesworth, devoted and eager to do his part, and more, ('going [35/36] the second mile') was greatly beloved by the Indians and appreciated by all. But again there was a cloud on the horizon, for early in May Miss White was called home because of family matters that demanded her presence, much to the distress of Miss Thackara. But always ready to meet any emergency, back to the kitchen she cheerfully went, helped by her little Indian assistants who were mere children. And then worst of all, during the summer that followed, Miss Hamilton had to leave temporarily, for her distant home, owing to the rapidly failing health of her mother. So from the kitchen to the wards Miss Thackara was called, with only faithful Mattie to rely on for the tender care of the sick. This was indeed another misfortune, although it was part of the near-tragic experiences which had to be encountered all too often in the progress of this ever-growing Christian Mission. We have already seen, and shall see again, how certain otherwise proficient workers, nurses, housekeepers and other helpers had to leave at the end of a year, simply because they were not Missionaries at heart and could not be expected to have a sufficiently deep interest in their work to remain. But when two such devoted Christian Missionaries as Miss White and Miss Hamilton were reluctantly called away, it seemed very, very sad! No wonder Miss Thackara was frankly discouraged and was almost tempted to give up the whole project! 'Almost' but not quite; for with renewed heroism and faith she buckled down to her task with determination to carry on. "We cannot keep the sick out", she wrote to Miss Schuyler, "We must do the work". (This was on September 24, 1908), and continuing "it is most interesting; really I think it wonderful, and we have to go on or just close the whole thing for want of assistance in the wards." But she did not really consider for a moment the 'closing', but tried once more to get a nurse, even if she couldn't then get a housekeeper. Moreover, there was, after all, much to give her encouragement and thankfulness, for at a conference with Bishop Kendrick at Albuquerque during the same summer, they made definite decisions about the chapel and had engaged an architect to draw up plans. This architect advised having a bell, and to order it at once to assure delivery in time to be placed in the belfry before the first service. Both Miss Thackara and the Bishop were heartily in favor of this, for "the bell will be heard at a long distance from the hospital, for the reservation is strangely quiet--no steam whistles, no railroad, no automobiles--nothing there to break the stillness of the blessed day the Father in heaven has set apart for his children to remember and worship him." This bell, of the best of metal was ordered from the "Buckeye Bell Company at $175.00 and had the inscription "to the Glory of God and in Memory of Cornelia Jay".

Although the walls of the chapel were completed during this fall of 1908, the setting in of winter compelled the suspension of the work until February of 1909, when it was begun again and continued during the following months of what proved to be a providentially early spring, thus encouraging the hope that the new building would be consecrated in the fall. Later in the spring Miss Thackara's cousin, a Miss Weems, made a visit to the Mission and was deeply impressed, and writing later to Miss Alice Jay she said, "My cousin possesses two characteristics that help to carry her over her hard places, humor and energy!" Continuing, she told of her cousin's difficulty in finding time to write letters, often getting up at two in the morning, or sitting up until two, especially when she needed funds, no matter how cold it was, sometimes being eighteen below zero! At five she would often be up to light the kitchen fire so as to get breakfast for ten or fifteen people.

A circular letter in regard to the Chapel had been sent out by the New York "W.A.", and was now bringing in results in gifts sent to the treasurer, Mrs. Scrymser, and Miss Thackara was also receiving special gifts for the regular work as well as for the chapel. Someone had sent the money for a microscope for Dr. Wigglesworth which was a great help to him in his eye treatments. Undoubtedly trachoma was having dire effect on many Indians, but at that time it was not well recognized or understood, and it was several years after this that the Indian office began to pay due attention to its ravages, and to make suitable provision for its combat and treatment. For this it sought the cooperation of the hospital and its staff. A direct gift of $150.00 from Miss Alice Jay was turned over to Dr. Wigglesworth in payment of his salary, long overdue. Also there came from Miss Jay a beautifully bound lectern bible, a silent but eloquent prophecy of the spiritual influence of the days to come in the new sanctuary. Stained glass windows had been promised, and were designed by a niece of Miss Fannie Schuyler, "Miss Grace", and now the frames for the windows were being made by local carpenters to be shipped to Geisler in New York where the windows were being made. One of these was to be of the "Good Shepherd" and would be placed over the altar and beneath it a simple but fitting reredos.

[37] That summer, (1909), Miss Alice Jay herself accompanied by a friend, Miss Hunter, made a notable visit to the Mission. This friend afterwards wrote a most interesting account of their visit, with a vivid description of the country, which however, we can hardly give space for in this narrative. By the middle of the fall the chapel was completed, all but the windows, which had not arrived from New York. But the weather being propitious, it was decided not to wait, and Bishop Kendrick arrived on October 22nd for the opening service of Holy Communion; a great event indeed. He spent four days at the Mission and baptized eleven children. Numerous memorial gifts were now beginning to come from many friends in the east. These were the altar and reredos from St. Mary's School in Peekskill, N.Y. and a white marble font, and a Bishop's chair; also prayer books for chancel and pews. All of these were in addition to the bell, given by a member of Zion and St. Timothy's Church in New York, and a cabinet organ. Also, there came a picture of Miss Cornelia Jay to be hung in the "vestry room". The Westchester branch had sent out during the summer, neat little cards to a large number of people, inviting them to join in "The One Day Memorial" gift, which was to provide $5.00 for one day's food annually, as a memorial of some event of interest in the life of the giver. An excellent idea, and there was quite a response to the plan,

These gifts, together with what had become an annual donation from Trinity Church, New Rochelle, helped to put the Mission on a more substantial financial basis, at least for the time being, and with a more hopeful promise for the days to come.

As to personnel, shortly before Christmas a new nurse arrived. This was a Miss Woods, who had come as a result of special efforts made by Miss Alice Jay. She had been most lucky in reaching the Mission just before a severe snow storm, having been driven up from Gallup by Clarence Gatewood. Miss Thackara was greatly relieved by the coming of this new helper, for now it would be possible for her to attend more closely to her official duties as Superintendent. And better still, another nurse was expected before long; this was a Miss Rod. Now one of these nurses could have special charge of the increasing number of eye cases; and this was another indication of the growing appreciation of the need of systematic and scientific treatment of such cases.

Other improvements of a physical nature were being made for the welfare of the Mission family. The much heralded well and wind-mill of a few years previous, which had proved to be such a dismal failure, had been superseded from time to time by various expedients which were not at all satisfactory, but now at last an entirely new system was to be installed. The government decided to permit the Mission to draw water from a spring in Bonito Canyon just beyond the fort. A mile of pipe would be required and bids were opened for equipment. The work was to be done by "my Indians", and it was hoped that it could be done as soon as the frost was well out of the ground, which should be by the middle of April, this was most encouraging. An expected visit by her sister, and the recent arrival of two new helpers, made it possible for Miss Thackara to undertake another visit to the east in February. This proved to be a memorable excursion. After a visit with her sister, Mrs. Palmer, in Baltimore, and a resting period in Florida, she returned to more northern points where she spoke at all sorts of meetings. Washington, Pittsburg, and Detroit were on her itinerary. This last city proved to be a gold mine for her. At a parlor meeting she secured a donation sufficient for another window in the chapel. The "W.A." branch of this city had already assisted in providing for a men's ward in the hospital, "the Frances E. Adams Memorial Ward", and now came a promise of fifty dollars a year towards its support. Then to Baltimore she hastened again. And from there to Philadelphia to speak at "Old Swedes", or "Gloria Dei", where she found a full church in spite of a pouring rain. Good news from Miss Woods, the nurse, came, and she said, "she thought she would enjoy staying for a full year, for she was much interested in what she was doing and had found Dr. Wigglesworth a fine doctor to work with."

At the General Convention in Cincinnati in October 1910, it was voted, according to Bishop Kendrick's expressed wish, to divide his vast district, which comprised New Mexico, Arizona and a corner of Texas, (three times as large as any other district of our church), and to set apart Arizona as an independent jurisdiction. The good Bishop, who had served so faithfully and energetically for twenty years, was allowed to choose which district he himself preferred to serve. His long residence in Phoenix and the many personal friends he had in all Arizona would make it sad and difficult to break away from these ties. However, with characteristic unselfishness he decided [37/38] to leave the newly created district to a younger and more active man, and to select for himself the New Mexico-Texas portion. The "Quarterly" for Epiphany 1911, (now known as "The Arizona Church Record"), came out with an editorial about Bishop Kendrick, a part of which is as follows:

"For over twenty years Bishop Kendrick has served the two districts with great faithfulness and devotion. He has been unsparing of himself but he has never asked to be relieved from work . . . We can none of us, witness the giving up of the oversight of the work in this district by our former Bishop without feelings of keen loss, a deep personal affection for him, or appreciation of all that he has done and been to the people of Arizona for over twenty years . . . May the example of his wise leadership, unselfish work, and loyal friendship be an inspiration to his successor."

This 'successor' was the Rev. Julius Walter Atwood, D.D. rector of Trinity Church, Phoenix, who had also been Archdeacon of the district for a number of years. In fact, it was so evident that he would be the right man to succeed Bishop Kendrick in Arizona, that the same General Convention which had accepted the resignation of Bishop Kendrick, also elected Dr. Atwood to be his successor. The consecration service was held in Trinity Church in Boston on January 11, 1911, the same church in which he had been ordained to the diaconate and to the priesthood many years before, and in the same diocese in which he had begun his ministry. Another significant thing was that the date of his consecration was the twenry-second anniversary of Bishop Kendrick's consecration in Trinity Church, Columbus, Ohio, of which Dr. Atwood had afterwards become rector.

The new Bishop's first District Convocation was held in Phoenix on April 12, 1911, and during its sessions a report of the Mission of the Good Shepherd was presented, which told of the over-crowded condition of the hospital, there being twenty-four cases where there was space and equipment for only twelve. What made it worse was the lack of a suitable place for the isolation of communicable diseases. By this time, however, the government had erected a well-equipped hospital at Fort Defiance, and the suggestion had been made by the authorities that their hospital should now care for all general cases and that our hospital should be exclusively for the treatment of eye cases. This plan seemed most reasonable, especially since the study and treatment of trachoma had now become a definite thing, largely because of the discoveries by a Japanese Doctor Naguchi, and the scientific work of our Dr. Wigglesworth, who was recognized as an expert along that line, and was permitted to continue with the Mission. In fact, he had already been doing a notable work with that dread disease for some time at our hospital, the government sending their cases to us. So now the "Hospital of the Good Shepherd", which had been the pioneer hospital on the reservation, was also to be definitely known as a pioneer in eye treatment.

The crowded condition of the hospital and the severity of the winter, with much snow blown into deep drifts by the constant north wind, together with the diminishing supply of food and fuel, made the outlook far from pleasant, but there was a grim advantage in the fact that no more patients could get there to make the situation even worse, although there were plenty of them who needed to come. With care, however, the coal could be made to last, and soon the great team of horses would be able to plow their way to Gallup; so there was as yet no cause for alarm. Dr. Wigglesworth, who had expected to make a trip to the east, was able to postpone it, since a young assistant who had been with him had to return to Chin Le, where he had been stationed. So in spite of all these difficulties, and with her usual spirit of optimism, Miss Thackara could write to her friends that she was feeling more rested than usual at that time of the year. Her able assistant, Miss White, was invaluable--"a dear woman! If the board only had more women like her!" There was actually more time than usual for the all important and much neglected letter-writing, without her having to get up at two a.m. or sit up half the night to do it.

The twenty-fourth annual report of the Westchester branch, covering the period from May 1, 1910 to May 1, 1911, referred to the retirement of Miss Schuyler as chairman, on account of failing health, after many years of service, and the election of Mrs. Samuel Thorne, Jr. to take her place. Speaking of the Good Shepherd Hospital, it mentioned the severity of the winter and also the fact that the new windows for the chapel could not be put in. However, there was every expectation that the chapel would be consecrated by Bishop Atwood some time during the spring.

This consecration did take place on June 7, 1911, it being the Bishop's first official visitation to the Mission. The Indians had become more and more attached to the chapel with feelings of love and appreciation; it was indeed a blessing to the work. There were, as always, difficulties to face and overcome in the work as a whole, but the chapel and its use helped to preserve a confident spirit on the part of the workers. And this spirit was needed especially, for the regular nurse herself developed T. B. and had to resign. Moreover, the temporary nurse, whose year was up, also left. But Miss White and Dr. Wigglesworth heroically stood by until September. By that time they were both worn out and needed rest. The doctor was definitely obliged to get away on a six weeks vacation, but he refused to leave unless Miss Thackara would temporarily close the hospital and herself take a rest. He was absolutely insistent on this, so Miss Thackara reluctantly gave in. Miss White volunteered to 'carry on' with the few Indians left--there were only three at the time, two being eye patients whose friends were to come to take them home. The only helpers for Miss White were the "outside man" and his wife, the cook. But in spite of all this, Miss Thackara started off on the 9th of September to visit her brother in Florida. Even as she left with her customary optimism she said, "all, everything, is most encouraging. We expect a very busy winter." In this cheerful spirit she started out on her journey. It proved to be a long visit, for she had no little difficulty in finding another nurse, but Bishop Atwood discovered one in Washington and secured her appointment as a "United Thank Offering worker" of the Woman's Auxiliary at a salary of $500.00 a year. It was Thanksgiving Day before Miss Thackara arrived, and then everything began to pick up once more. With the help of "dear Miss White", she herself could assist the new nurse so that another might not be needed. This was especially gratifying to the good doctor, who had been much improved after his vacation, as another severe winter (1911-1912) set in, with its temperatures at 20 below zero. "We could not keep the Indians out", said Miss Thackara. "Just as soon as word was sent out that I was back, they began to flock in, for my return was the signal that the hospital would open again." The very day after she arrived, an Indian appeared who had made a day's journey through the snow and cold. His eyes were streaming with tears as he told of his baby boy who had died un-baptized. The father was quite sure that the baby would not have died, if he had been baptized. A superstitious idea of course, but sincere and might have been a step towards real faith. Said Miss Thackara, "I have Indians every day, and now the Chapel bell rings, and far away, the Indians tell me, they hear it."

The "One Day Memorial Fund", of which mention has been made, had been operating most satisfactorily and was continuing to be decidedly helpful for all sorts of purposes. One gift of fifty-five dollars was used to purchase twelve new mattresses, very much needed in the hospital, with enough left over for other necessary supplies. Although not so over-crowded as it had been the winter before, the hospital and clinical department were continuously ministering to all sorts and conditions of men, women and children, with now and then an entire family. An interesting and typical experience along this line occurred in March. It was on a Sunday that a big farm wagon, such as was so universally used, arrived at the hospital with six people who had travelled eighty miles, a three days journey. Besides the young man who drove, there were an old man with a bad ear, an old woman with a broken collar-bone, and a young woman and two children--all three almost blind with trachoma. A new bath-house had just been completed with a big tub and hot and cold water; a wonderful improvement over the former inadequate equipment. The very first thing Miss Thackara did, with the help of the nurse, as a part of their cordial welcome, was to herd them all, except the driver, into the bath-house where after a good soaking and scrubbing all around, clean clothes were provided. "It was a cleaner and a fairer set that came out and were taken to their wards." In fact the young driver was so impressed that, after he had fed and watered his horses, he asked permission to take his turn at the ceremony!

The chapel was being put to good use with the help of an excellent young interpreter. This was "Chay", a Christian student who had come from Carlisle the previous August because of T.B. By December his case seemed to be 'arrested' and he was allowed to go to work at the Mission. He was exceptionally able to 'put over' the Gospel story at the various services and elsewhere, and had made himself indispensable. Then came a sad end to his career, for all too soon his throat began to trouble him and he had to leave so as to try a complete out-door life by herding sheep with a friend who lived further south on the reservation. Pathetically, Miss Thackara remarked, "we ring our dear Chapel bell; the Indians all come to prayers; we teach them all we can, but we miss the interpreter."

[40] "The changes and chances of this mortal life" were well demonstrated in the daily and yearly story of "The Hospital or the Good Shepherd", as we have seen many times. At the close of the severe winter the faithful 'house-mother', Miss White, came down with a cold and resulting tonsilitis, from which she recovered but slowly, and it was decreed that she should take a vacation, beginning with a trip to a Los Angeles hospital for a throat operation. So there was much extra work to do for all at the Mission. Alas! That was not an uncommon experience, and somehow the work went on. In May came the annual meeting of Convocation, this time at Tucson. In his address, Bishop Atwood referred to his visit to consecrate the chapel and added: "The government officals connected with the management of Indian affairs have expressed to me their great appreciation of the splendid work which the hospital is doing for the Indians living on the Navajo Reservation."

This fact was well borne out by Dr. Wigglesworth in his report, in which he said, "the Hospital of the Good Shepherd still leads in the medical work on the Navajo Reservation . . . If any work of a medical nature is worthy, surely this is. Apparently these poor savages never dreamed that there was any relief from their misery. They accepted blindness as something inevitable. The idea of restoration of sight is spreading all over the reservation . . . Our cases advertise us, so we have no need to solicit cases, and do not . . . It costs to produce these cures, but relief from pain, the restoration of sight--are these not worth it?"

During these years it was becoming increasingly evident, not only to our hospital staff and the government physicians, but to the medical profession at large, that trachcoma was one of the worst and most dangerous enemies to normal health that was known. This was especially evident to all who had anything to do with our Indians. Much scientific research was being conducted by notable men, especially the Japanese doctor, Naguchi, mentioned above.

In July 1912, Bishop Atwood again visited the Mission where he held two preaching services, celebrated the Holy Communion and baptized twelve children. A year later, in June, he went again and followed his usual order, this time having nine baptisms and one confirmation. Nothing unusual or especially interesting had occurred between these two visits, and the same might be said of the year that followed, except that the year 1914 appears to have been a somewhat unusually prosperous period. At the Convocation in Bisbee in April 1915, the Bishop spoke of the need of a Deaconess at the Mission. Our readers will recall that nine years before Deaconess Metzler had joined the Mission staff, much to the delight of Miss Thackara, but her health had failed and she had not remained long. Now Bishop Atwood hoped that there could be another and he urged the raising in Arizona of funds for at least a partial endowment that could be applied to the support of a Deaconess, the Indians themselves not being able to contribute much, if anything, to her support.

Speaking of "changes and chances", as applied to the story of the Mission from its beginning, it is obvious that these words apply especially to the frequent changes in personnel, and Miss Thackara's unquenchable optimism at all times. With what joyful enthusiasm she would always welcome each new worker, nurse or cook or man-on-the-place, or an especially promising child, and how confident she always was of the ability and fitness of each one. And then how very often her idols would be shattered, as she came to realize how human they all were, especially when they decided that they could no longer remain with her. Looking back over the more than half a century of the Mission's history, and noting all these changes, it becomes very evident that external conditions rather than defects in character were at the root of many of these changes. With the best intention in the world, and the finest purposes on the part of many of the workers when they arrived, the re-adjustings in the change of climate--often very extreme, especially in altitude--all so different from what they had been used to all their previous days, were a sufficient cause in most cases for a decided lowering of morale and of the spirit of contentment. Often the actual effects on health were undoubtedly serious, so that to remain there might have been almost suicidal. Added to all this was the isolation and extreme remoteness from normal and customary pleasures and social contacts and the amenities of life, all these things together very naturally, and sometimes very quickly, would work on the nerves and produce irritability and even depression. Vitamins were not in vogue in those days or they might have been effectively applied. Those of the workers who were the most faithful and enduring were the ones who were absolutely consecrated, and endowed with undying Missionary zeal, and yet even some of these would become so broken down in health, that they would simply have to leave, with very keen reluctance.


The territory of Alaska has had a prominent and important place politically, economically and also religiously, in the history of our great country. It has produced, or perhaps we should say, developed, some outstanding characters in state and in church. Since we are concerned chiefly with the affairs of the church, we can 'point with pride' to Bishop Rowe, Archdeacon Stuck and others down to our present comparatively youthful, but none the less heroic, Bishop Gordon. The influence of all such 'personalities' on the welfare and progress of Alaska should have weight in her laudable purpose of becoming a state.

Now all this directly concerns the Good Shepherd Hospital-Mission, for out of this far northern land came one who, as nurse, and far more than a nurse, became a great Missionary who was destined to build up the whole life and influence of our Mission.

This was Miss Anne E. Cady, who had been a "United Thank Offering" Missionary of the Woman's Auxiliary in Alaska for several years, but who under the severity of the climate had broken down in health and had returned to the states to recuperate. After a few months' period of rest she had sufficiently recovered to be ready and eager for work again, but was not permitted to risk returning to northern fields. However, when she was invited to go to Fort Defiance, she cheerfully accepted the appointment. She was especially well fitted and qualified for the position because of her former experience and because the rigorous climate of northern Arizona would give her little discomfort compared to that of Alaska. It was in 1915 that she arrived at our hospital and was warmly welcomed by Miss Thackara, not only as nurse but better still as assistant Superintendent. Her coming was most timely, for Miss Thackara was beginning to feel the effects of her long years of self-sacrificing service, and was glad to retire, somewhat at least, from her duties, and to feel that she could depend upon her new fellow-worker for much of the responsibility and hard work. Among her many duties, Miss Cady accepted the position of Warden of the Mission, which had been regularly organized as such by Convocation. She carried on all her duties with more and more activity, much to the relief of her "superior". But alas! in the late fall of 1918 came that terrible epidemic of "the flu", and both Miss Cady and Dr. Wigglesworth were afflicted after devotedly caring for the sick of the neighborhood. Miss Thackara felt that she could not properly continue alone, so the hospital had to be closed for a number of weeks.

A year later, on October 1, 1919, this veteran Missionary, after twenty-five years of active and self-sacrificing service resigned to enter a well-earned rest with her family. She could do this with good grace and complete satisfaction, because she could turn over the work to one who was so well fitted to take her place and to "carry on" with every chance of success. Well might Miss Cady in her report to Convocation in November say of Miss Thackara, "she has left behind her an influence which only the consecrated life of a 'gentlewoman' could leave, and which will be felt for years to come."

The work indeed went on, although with necessary changes which the course of events made inevitable. Since Miss Cady was now "Superintendent", another nurse was needed and fortunately there was one available. This was Mrs. Laffin, whose husband, a practicing physician in New York, had died in the great epidemic of the year before, and who herself had previously served as a nurse at the government hospital at Fort Defiance. She now was appointed as another "U.T.O." worker and was welcomed by Miss Cady as a very efficient and capable person. However, consistent with the "ups and downs" of the almost daily affairs, another very serious change was made necessary by the transfer of Dr. Wigglesworth to another government post. It seemed as if a pillar of support had been removed--how could the doctor's place be filled with satisfaction to all concerned? Well, a divine providence certainly does reveal himself in most unexpected ways! Not only was Miss Cady soon to prove herself a worthy successor to Miss Thackara, but Dr. Polk Richards was to prove his worth in succession to Dr. Wigglesworth. A skillful and conscientious physician and eye specialist, his coming was most timely, for the hospital was filled with trachoma cases; that dread disease which was fast becoming a scourge among the Navajos. The salary and equipment for the doctor has been pledged by the [41/42] "W. A." of West Virginia, and Mrs. J. Hull Browning of Newark, N. J. had presented a new Ford, which at that time was a great acquisition and the source of a great saving of time and expense. Many trips to Gallup and across the rough country of the reservation had had to be made in freight wagons, but now with a Ford and all the new acquisitions many patients were to be saved from blindness and many others relieved. Another encouraging fact was that the people of the Mission itself, staff members and even patients, had learned that it was their privilege to help others, and to give their own offerings, not for themselves but for the Missions of the church in general, and as evidence of this their Lenten offerings amounted to $23.00. These offerings have continued ever since, and often have been very generous. On the other side of the ledger, the Advent offerings from the Sunday schools of the district for "Good Shepherd" in 1919 amounted to $250.00

In April of 1920 Bishop Atwood made his regular spring visit, following the usual schedule of services and ministrations. He found some causes of discouragement as to the immediate outlook, for Mrs. Laffin had accepted a position elsewhere and although Dr. Duncan, a woman, had arrived to take Mrs. Laffin's place, Miss Cady had become used up after her strenuous experience since Miss Thackara's resignation, and was obliged to take a leave of absence to recover her strength. Before leaving however, she wrote a letter to the "Arizona Church Record" for May, in which she made a most earnest appeal for a school! She pointed out that many children had been baptized at the Mission and that their parents were proud to have them known as belonging to the Mission. But when it came to sending them to school there was nothing that could be done except to send them to the government school, which at that time was not a very satisfactory institution for Christian children, or to turn them over to the Presbyterians at Ganado, forty miles away, or to some other denominational school even further off. The reservation greatly needed schools, she said, there being nine thousand children of school age, and provision for only two thousand in all the schools, government and religious. A church boarding school with a chaplain was a crying need, and although we were first in the field, we had nothing to fill this need. She then referred to a boy named Thomas Atkinson, who had been baptized and brought up with us, but had been oblidged to go to the Ganado school, and then to the Cook Bible School in Phoenix, both of which were under the Presbyterian church, and at that time strictly fundamentalistic in teaching.

Unfortunately at about this time Dr. Richards, who had been so acceptable and capable, was transferred to another government position far away, and that made things decidedly difficult once more. However, brighter days were soon to come. Miss Cady was able to return in the fall (1920) very much improved in health, and a Mrs. Mc Clintock had been appointed assistant Superintendent. Dr. Robinson, who had succeeded Dr. Richards, was an eminent eye specialist, and would give part of his time to our work. Also a Miss Isabelle Rountree, formerly of Alaska, had come as an additional nurse. The Bishop referred to these happenings in his letter to "The Record" of November, and then mentioned four pressing needs of the Mission: one was for a new wing to the original building; another was for a girls' dormitory; a third was for a central heating plant to do away with so many individual stoves; and the fourth, equally necessary, was for an electric plant to provide as soon as possible for adequate and safe lighting in place of all the hand lamps that had for so many years been a menace and a nuisance! Both these two improvements would greatly reduce the fire hazard, and as we look back on those days, we can but feel that only a divine providence had been on guard to protect the Mission from serious conflagrations! As to the other needs, although nothing definite was done at the time, the Westchester branch had made a gift of over $1500.00 for all sorts of hospital equipment, and a part of this could be used to help in reducing the serious fire hazard.

A letter from Miss Cady dated January 12, 1921 and printed in "The Record" for that month, spoke of the very late arrival of winter, there having been no snow since the storm of October until this time. The cook was sick, but Miss Cady, who like her predecessor was always ready to step into any sort of a breach, cheerfully acted as cook, with a good helper at her right hand. She was rejoicing in the return of health and strength so that "the work was only joy". To add to everybody's rejoicing, Dr. Richards was called back and once more joined the staff of the hospital.

Continuing to follow well the traditions and customs of his honored predecessor, Bishop Atwood took great interest in the welfare and progress of the Mission and made annual visits, usually going up soon after the annual Convocation late in the spring. [42/43] He spent Sunday, May 15, 1921 there and had a busy time once more. After the morning celebration of Holy Communion, he attended the service at the Presbyterian Mission at the fort and preached the sermon. The pastor, the Rev. Howard Clark, always invited him on such occasions and showed a fine spirit of Christian courtesy. In the afternoon a service especially for Indians was held in the Chapel, many of them having come from afar. After his address, translated by the regular interpreter, he baptized twenty-one children, and then went over to the assembly hall of the government school and made another address. Again there was evening prayer in the Chapel, with sermon, rounding out a day full of activity. The Bishop took his leave in a most happy frame of mind and with the strong conviction "that never in its long history was the work of the Hospital-Mission been better conducted, with greater efficiency and usefulness, and with so little friction." A letter from Miss Cady during the following summer speaks of a visit of a surveying party which officially stated that our property consisted of forty-eight acres. This statement preceded, or coincided with, the issuance by the government of a patent to the land, which had been the result of the diligent and patient efforts of the Chancellor of the District of Arizona, the Hon. John J. Hawkins, of Prescott.

During the following months including the autumn, the winter, and the spring of 1922, substantial progress was made all along the line. The winter was unusually mild with much rain which, as Miss Cady remarked, "Was rather better than snow, for we don't have to sweep the rain away!" Christmas had been a notable occasion of joy, with service and tree after breakfast and the distribution of gifts. All day long there had been "open house" to over a hundred Indians. But the really great event soon to follow was the actual installing of an electric plant, which was to eliminate forever the hazard of so many lamps to be carried. Dr. Richards was continuing his skillful work at the daily clinic. Two men practically blind, who had to be led about, now had their sight restored so that they could go about by themselves and do many useful things. This naturally increased the already excellent reputation of the hospital and spread its influence far and wide. But the spiritual side of the work was equally prominent, and Miss Cady in a report to Convocation somewhat later could truly say, "The influence of our Sunday school and other religious work has grown and we feel that it has been carried many miles over the reservation . . . We hope some day, a much needed school can be established here so that Navajo boys and girls may be educated and trained in their own church and be ready to teach their own people."

At the beginning of this 'history' it was indicated that it would consist largely of the stories or 'living portraits' of certain outstanding personalities who inspired and guided the developing work during many years. As we have most surely seen, preeminent among these was Miss Eliza Thackara, and second only to her was Miss Anne E. Cady. The life-history of each of these, and of others also, has been woven into the very fabric of this narrative, as they themselves were personally interwoven into the total life of this remarkable Missionary project. A fitting estimate of Miss Thackara has already been expressed more than once, especially in the circular letter of the Westchester branch of the Woman's Auxiliary to its members, as noted in Chapter V. And Miss Cady has had many words of appreciation; although it would be difficult to do justice to either of these noble women. It is fitting, therefore, that we should record here a tribute to all the women of the Mission which was written by Miss Janet Waring after one of her visits. It is as follows:

"Only by living under the roof of the Mission, can we know the spirit of selfless devotion of these women, never thinking of themselves, never showing by word or look, the fatigue or weariness in the long day's round; always with time for patient teaching and happy companionship. It is the out-pouring of a love like St. Francis of Assisi's. We are not surprised that a member of the Meriam Commission on visiting the Mission exclaimed, "This is not an institution, this is a home!"


Closely associated with our noble women Missionaries and their assistants were the two Bishops of Arizona, each of whom in his turn, was devoted to the welfare and development of the Mission. We have already had the story of Bishop Kendrick, the warrior veteran and devout servant of the Lord, and the thrilling experiences of his earlier days, so now it is but fitting that we should hear more about the Rt. Rev. Julius W. Atwood, D.D. who was a most worthy successor to Bishop Kendrick.

A New England Yankee from Vermont, and a descendent of Ethan Allen, Julius Walter Atwood had graduated at the famous old College of Middlebury, and then attended the rather new Episcopal Theological School in Cambridge, Mass., which today is one of the leading divinity schools of our country. After graduation and ordination he held brief pastorates in Massachusetts and Rhode Island, and it was from St. James' Church in Providence that he was called to be rector of Trinity Church in Columbus, Ohio, to which his friend Bishop Kendrick had been called a number of years before. Trinity Church, to which Mr. Atwood came in 1894, was one of the largest churches in the Diocese of Southern Ohio, and was situated in the very center of Columbus, just across from the capital square. It was here that the writer of this story first met Mr. Atwood, having been invited by him as a newly ordained deacon from Cambridge to become his curate. Very soon after this, in the fall of 1895, Mr. Atwood returned to Providence to take to himself a wife, a Miss Anna Richmond, a very charming young woman and the daughter of the senior warden of St. James' parish. Mrs. Atwood was most cordially welcomed in Trinity parish and made many friends in the city. But, alas! she was not in very good health and in a few years developed tuberculosis. Resigning from his parish, Mr. Atwood took his wife to Colorado and then to Arizona, where they lived on a ranch outside of Phoenix. While there he held services in the ranch house for the people of the neighborhood. It was at this time that Trinity Church in Phoenix, which occupied a brick building on second avenue across from the court house, was without a minister and Bishop Kendrick was taking charge. So he invited Mr. Atwood to take some of the services, which he willingly did. But Mrs. Atwood lingered only a short time and left her saddened husband with two lovely little daughters. However, instead of returning permanently to the east, Mr. Atwood accepted the pastorate of Trinity Church, which he soon organized into a parish, and this was the first parish of our church in Arizona, although there were other Missions.

One of Mr. Atwood's greatest acts of service was in the founding of St. Luke's Home for Tubercular Patients, as a fitting tribute to Mrs. Atwood's memory. This he did in cooperation with the Rev. Bertrand R. Cocks, who became its first Superintendent. Bishop Kendrick was at this time in charge of the Missionary District of New Mexico, as well as of the District of Arizona. But in 1910 the General Convention decided to have separate Bishops for the two large districts, and Bishop Kendrick nominated Mr. Atwood, who had already become Archdeacon, as Bishop of Arizona, he himself remaining as Bishop of New Mexico. The consecration of the new Bishop was held in Trinity Church in Boston in January of 1911, as was recorded in a previous chapter.


"Thomas Atkinson" his story is most appealing. He was one of the children in whom Miss Thackara had taken a special interest, and justly so, as we shall see. When this lad was a mere infant living in the northern part of the great reservation, his mother had one day set him bound in his cradle-board and leaning against the wall of the hogan, as was the custom, but the mother was sick at this time and did not give him much attention, but fell asleep in a corner of the hogan. Being weary of this position, the baby began to wriggle and wriggle until he fell over right into the fire which was burning in the center of the hogan. His piteous shrieks aroused the mother and she ran quickly to his aid, but not until he had been terribly burned! What she did in the way of treatment nobody knows today, but he managed to recover from his burns but only to become horribly deformed. In fact, two of his toes on one foot had been burned off; it was not until he was six years old that the mother, who had heard from afar of our hospital brought the poor little creature to the Mission; this was in the spring of 1903. There was almost nothing that could be done for him, but fortunately--may we not say quite [44/45] providentially, a nurse from St. Louis was visiting at the fort and was on her way home. She gladly took the little lad with her and entered him in the orthopedic hospital in that city--one of the first of its kind in the country. There, after a number of months, he was almost completely restored, except for the lost toes, and was sent back to Fort Defiance. For the rest of his childhood he divided his time between his home in the mountains with his devoted mother, and the hospital itself, where he was educated and really brought up. Miss Thackara practically adopted him and, with the mother's consent, had him baptized, taking the name of a clergyman friend of hers in the east, the Rev. Thomas Atkinson.

When Thomas was about twelve years old, having attended the government school at Fort Defiance, Miss Thackara decided to send him to a new Presbyterian Mission School at Ganado, about forty miles away. He remained there for several years in the formative period of his life, so it was not strange that he became indoctrinated with a decidedly fundamentalistic type of Presbyterianism such as at that time, (but not today, I think), prevailed in their Mission field, and consequently 'joined the church'. He had a keen Missionary spirit and decided to become a Missioniary himself of that church among his own people, a very laudable purpose surely. To complete his preparation he was sent to another, quite new, school, "the Cook Bible School", as it was called then, in Phoenix. And let me say, parenthetically, that this school has become famous throughout our country as an inter-denominational institution known as "the Cook Christian Training School for Indians"; our Bishop and others of our own church are on the governing board of the school.

It was here that Thomas met "Dora", a Hopi student. A romance followed, and since neither could speak the other's language, their courtship had to be conducted in english, which was good for both of them. In due time they were married, and upon graduation, were ready to go to work as an efficient Missionary 'team' in the work of the Lord. Unfortunately, but in fact fortunately for us, the Presbyterian church had at that time no available vacancy in their Indian field. Then Thomas began to think it all over and to realize that he owed much to the Good Shepherd Hospital and to the Episcopal Church in which he had been baptized; would it not be fitting and just to offer his services to Bishop Atwood? They talked it over and very naturally, the Bishop accepted him, so he and Dora returned to Fort Defiance, and Thomas became the official interpreter of the Mission, and was also licensed as a lay reader and catechist. This was in 1922, and for two years or more he did fine and conscientious work and had a great influence among his people. On one of my visits to the Mission--it was the following summer--I spent much time with Thomas, and every day we had heart-to-heart discussions. He had been so long away from the church and its teachings and customs that I found it rather difficult to readjust his thinking to our tenets and methods of work. He was a pretty stiff Calvinist and there were a few stumbling blocks to our progress. Let me narrate one incident that illustrates this.

But before I do this I must, for our better understanding, speak of the interesting, and somewhat fantastic, Natural Religion of the Navajos. In my contacts with them and study of their ways I found them, as others have, to be a decidedly religious people, and.that their religion entered into every aspect of life. Now that sounds very well and is often emphasized by writers, but the facts are that their religion is definitely pagan and has many decidedly demoralizing ideas and practices which are centered about their hopelessly superstitious dread of the "shin-dees", or evil spirits, which are bent on harming them if they do not make the correct acts of propitiation. So this religion is one of escape from dangers and curses. And yet it does have certain very fine expressions and customs that seemingly border on Christian devotion, and almost put us to shame in our habits of worship. Now it is such things as these that our church's Missionaries to various pagan peoples try to bring out and build upon as approaches to better understanding and more effective methods of evangelization. But there are certain religious bodies that ignore these methods and emphasize a militant Calvinism.

This brings us back to my conferences with Thomas and explains some things. It was one Sunday afternoon at the regular service for the Navajo men and women, not only of the hospital, but also of the neighborhood, and I was speaking along the lines of our Missionary teaching, as mentioned above. I was comparing some of the better Navajo ideas with Christian teachings, to show the likenesses and differences and to attract the listeners to our ways. Well, after the service, Thomas, who had been my interpreter, remarked, "that is not the way to talk to these people." I was surprised and asked what I ought to have said to them. To which he replied, "you ought to have told them that they were [45/46] all lost sinners and are going to hell and must be saved!" It is safe to say that that was not my theme; and yet, of course, we do have to present the more serious aspect of our teaching and to make real the tragic side of rejection of the higher purposes and clear message of the Gospel, although our main emphasis must always be based on "John three, sixteen".

Thomas was not entirely hopeless in his ideas and was always deeply spiritual, so that we could work together with much in common. Another incident, quite pathetic, along the line of personal evangelization will show this. It was the Sunday afternoon, after the service just mentioned, that Thomas took me to see an old medicine man, "One-eyed Billy". He had attended the service and had listened most attentively to all that was said, often bowing his head in affirmation. As we sat around in his hogan, we explained again more explicitly the point of view of the Christian Gospel. He listened closely and with apparent sincerity and with a desire to learn more, and said he believed it all and had regularly sent his children and grandchildren to our services and Sunday school, and had assented to their being baptized. Then he went on to tell of his own native belief, beautifully expressed and reveling a marked spirituality of thought, and he even intimated that he would like to be baptized. It was a wonderful experience to hear the old man talk in this way. But then, alas; came the parting of the ways, as with childlike ingenuousness, which did really seem sincere, he intimated that he would not be willing to give up his native superstitious rites as a "medicine man", for he was an old man over seventy and had no other means of support but that which came from his practice. We pointed out the inconsistency of his position and had to tell him frankly that he would have to choose between the two ways of life, but he did not hesitate to declare that he would have to hold to his old way. Thomas and I were really quite grieved, but on the other hand, on returning to the Mission we found that way back in Miss Thackara's time, old Dilly had made earnest inquiries about baptism, but had not been encouraged by her because she felt that he was not sincere. And yet both Thomas and I could not help feeling that, in spite of Miss Thackara's experience, there was something deep in the old man's ideas which might under the right influences, and with continued follow-up meetings in his home, grow into a Christian belief. Unfortunately, however, I could not stay at the Mission long enough to follow this up with sympathy and understanding, and Thomas was also at this time, unable to make further visits; so there was no one to carry on with old Billy, and he never came again to the chapel service, although he still allowed his family to come. Looking back on those days from this time of writing his story, I feel keenly that a great opportunity had been lost in our failure to keep in close touch with the old man. Moreover, I seriously wonder whether in much of our Missionary work we do not fail to follow up individual personal cases, for although we do make progress in dealing with groups, yet, as Bishop Kendrick said so many years before, "we ought to do more than that." That is, we ought to deal with individuals, as the master did in his brief ministry. Nicodemus, the woman at the well, Peter, and we know not how many others.

While we are thinking about Thomas Atkinson, let me in a lighter vein, describe some of the native Navajo domestic customs. On one occasion I was in need of some special brown wool to be used in making a rug for me by Martha, who lived not far away. This particular kind of wool was scarce, but Thomas said he knew of another woman who might have some. So, mounting a couple of Mission horses, we went to see her. I noticed several things that interested me, as to native manners; first, on arriving at the hogan, we did not knock at the closed door but went right in. We shook hands with those who were present, and then Thomas sat down on a box and motioned to me to do like-wise on another box. Then there was a long silence, and I wondered why nobody spoke, not even Thomas who had come to ask about wool. After a while, I was sorely tempted to nudge him and ask him to go ahead with his errand. I am very glad I didn't for it would have violated the laws of hospitality most seriously. Presently Thomas did say a few words, hardly audidle, and the woman responded in the same manner. Then Thomas turned to me and told me that she did have the wool we wanted. We arranged for the amount and the price, and taking the wool, departed without further ceremony, not uttering a word. This seemed very discourteous to me, but it was the height of good manners. After we were outside, I asked Thomas if we shouldn't have said at least a word of good-bye, to which he remarked, "don't say, just go".

This laconic reply of Thomas was characteristic of him, and I believe of all Navajos, and in fact, of all Indians, especially in their use of the english language in which they often have difficulty in expressing themselves. I have often noticed [46/47] with Indian children of various tribes that in using english they speak in a sort of staccato way, even if they speak rather rapidly. But in their own tongues, they roll off the words with fluent rapidity.

Going back for a moment to the early days of Thomas, when he divided his time between the Mission and his mother back in the mountains; we did not know much about his mother, who had pulled him out of the fire in his infancy, but he evidently was devoted to her and whether he knew when she died, evidently in his somewhat later days, is not certain. But some one once asked him where his home was, to which he replied, "My home is wherever my mother is".

And now one final event in the story of this devout Christian Navajo, and a sad one it is. Like so many of his tribe, he contracted tuberculosis, and nobody seemed to realize it until too late. When it did become evident he was taken to our "St. Luke's in the Mountains", near Prescott, a summer branch of our "St. Luke's Home" in Phoenix. He was rather lonesome there and I went often from Phoenix to see him, and we had many good talks together. But the end came rather suddenly and I was called to make preparations for his removal to Fort Defiance for burial, and went with him. It was my privilege to conduct the burial service in our beautiful chapel. There were many flowers and singing by the children, and many friends in the congregation. His body was laid in a grave close by the chapel in our "God's Acre", which had been consecrated by Bishop Atwood not long before.

Thomas had been the first one to fulfill Miss Thackara's ambition and dream of the training of our own native Missionaries for work among their own people, and it was indeed sad and most pathetic that he should have been cut down so early in his noble career. He had served only two years, from 1922 to 1924, but had left a deep impression upon his people and a lasting memory among his friends and fellow-workers in the kingdom.

Let us now return to our narrative, going back a couple of years.

The report of the Superintendent, Miss Anne E. Cady, for the year 1922 had mentioned joyfully the coming of Miss Frances Davenport in the fall of 1919, to be a special assistant. She was a sister of Bishop George W. Davenport, of the Diocese of Easton, and Miss Cady said of her: "she was a most helpful worker, willing to turn her hand to anything that needs to be done." She had been for a long time, the Superintendent of a church home for children in the city of Washington, so naturally she had executive ability, and also had a "pleasing personality with a great love for children!" But alas! her stay was to be brief, for she was soon to be called home because of the death of her father. Happily, however, she was to come back again a few years later. In her report Miss Cady referred gratefully to the addition of the "Bishop's House", which was a new stone building, and which now made possible a girls' dormitory, and thus increased the capacity of the hospital. She also mentioned the acquisition of a new dining room, "with room enough for all", so that no longer would it be necessary to serve the men and the women at different hours, as had been the unsatisfactory custom for some time. But all this made additional stoves necessary with just that much more work and an added responsibility and anxiety for the fire hazard. The great need had now come, even more than before, for a heating plant. Fortunately this need was soon to be met.

All through the advancing days and years of the Mission various visitors came from afar to see and understand with appreciation all that was being done for the Navajo people, and for the Kingdom of God. A complete roster of these visitors, some being persons of distinction, would be interesting to read, if such a list had been carefully kept and were now available. However, it is possible to single out a few of those who were most deeply interested and who could carry away a good report of the life and activities of which they were witnesses. For example, there was Miss Janet Waring of the "Westchester Branch", who made more than one visit, for she had special reasons for having a deep personal interest in all that was going on, and the signs of marked progress, and wrote vivid accounts of her visits to Fort Defiance. Then there were Bishops and other clergymen, Missionaries from other fields, and in later days, as we shall see in another chapter, college students who came for the summer vacation as volunteer workers, many of them preparing to be Missionaries themselves. All these would carry to distant parts the story of our church's work among "Native Americans".

[48] Among the clergy who came was the Rev. Dr. John W. Suter, of Boston, a retired minister and an authority on "the prayer book", from the liturgical point of view. He afterwards became the official "custodian of the Book of Common Prayer". At the time of his visit to the Mission, he and Mrs. Suter were sojourning in Arizona as they had been accustomed to do for a number of winters, making Phoenix their headquarters. Dr. Suter remained at the hospital several days, during which time he went about and saw much of the work and met many people. He was greatly impressed by everything, especially by the operating room of which he said, "it is a gem of neatness and efficiency." One thing in particular that impressed him, as it had many others, was the conduct of the children at the clinic three times a day, when they came for treatment of their eyes. He noted how they would sit around in the room waiting for turns and chatting almost merrily, as if they had come for an entertainment. One by one these little folk, some hardly more than infants, would climb or be lifted up to the operating table, and lie down while their poor little eyes were "blue-stoned", which was the regular treatment in those days and was a painful process at best. But there was never a cry or a squirm--just a gritting of the teeth until the soothing argyrol on a bit of cotton could be applied. Then down they would get and make their way out of the room with the cotton held to their eyes. As some of the little ones would be temporarily blinded by the process, others would lead them out and around to their dormitory. Of course there were older patients who had to be treated, and it was a common sight to see a little child leading an old man or old woman along the board-walks. As Dr. Suter said, "they never seem to forget this helping of one-another." And he noted of the Navajos in general "their taciturn dignity, their stoical passivity, and their pride of race, which so often marks their bearing and their features."

All these things appealed greatly to Dr. Suter, but of course the children themselves touched him most of all; their general behavior--so much better than that of most of those whom we today call "young Americans".

Speaking of those who were original "young Americans", there were two who were on their way to be such even in the common use of the term as applied to the American youth of today. These were Howard Mc Kinley and Marie Begay, whose original name was "Dal-bah-he".


Now let us have the story of a little lad who was one of our most interesting characters and who became a devoted worker, and is still active at Good Shepherd Mission. It is a pathetic tale of a homeless child, almost blind, who had been brought to the hospital from the Mission at Rehoboth, New Mexico, in Miss Thackara's time and at once became the special charge of Miss Cady. He was later baptized as Howard Mc Kinley, but of course that was not his original Navajo name, which he does not know.

He was found, on examination, to have one tenth of one percent of vision, and I wonder if anyone ever made more excellent use of such limited endowments! Not much, if anything, could be done for the child at that time, for he was too young to have any serious operation. However, he soon proved to be a 'person' of winning character, intelligent, ambitious and of great promise, as his subsequent history would reveal. For a time he was supported by the "Junior Auxiliary" of Long Island, then an appeal was made to the Indian Bureau for funds to send him to the "School for the Blind" at Alamogordo, New Mexico, for he had been born just across the border in that state. He was admitted and made amazing progress in whatever he undertook. His summers were always spent at the Mission, his only home, and what a real home! He was about twelve years old when he first left to enter the school; and now his story really begins with his education. He was indeed a brilliant pupil, and having a most retentive memory, he learned quickly and thoroughly. He continued at this really remarkable school through the high school grades and graduated with honors, having won the governor's cup for scholarship and influence. But he wasn't through, not he, for he had developed a keen ambition to go through the University of New Mexico at Albuquerque, and furthermore, the authorities at the blind school had promised him a teacher's position when he should receive his college degree.

It was Howard's wish to work his own way through college, but his friends discouraged this, for with the handicap of his almost total blindness, it would be more than he could [48/49] humanly do. Fortunately funds were secured from the government to cover his tuition and board. By means of a small braille shorthand machine, he took his notes, and student friends were glad to read aloud his lessons to him. He had learned to play the violin and gave lessons to a student who in return helped him with his studies. But he really needed more than this, and to make real progress he would need a paid reader.

And this brings in a remarkable experience. Just before entering the college, he had had a thorough examination by specialists to determine whether an operation, which he could not have had in his boyhood, might not increase his vision. The doctors, however, were exceedingly doubtful and feared that an operation might even destroy such vision as he had. Now there was living near Santa Fe at the time, a renowned eye specialist from Boston, who had retired from active practice and had built a fine home outside Santa Fe. This was Dr. Proctor, and although he had 'retired', was willing now and then to help in emergencies. Dr. Richards, our Good Shepherd physician, and an eye specialist, was one of those who had made the examination, and he called up over the phone this Dr. Proctor and explained the situation and told the appealing story of Howard Mc Kinley. It did indeed appeal to Dr. Proctor; in fact it excited his interest keenly, and he replied that he would drive at once to Albuquerque to examine Howard. This he did promptly, but after the examination he shook his head and said that the risk of an operation would be very great. So that was that. However, the good doctor, realizing that Howard would certainly have to have a special reader, which would cost a lot, decided to help, and this is how he did it. It happened that soon afterwards Senator Bayard Cutting of New Mexico had an operation by Dr. Proctor, and when the Senator asked what the charge would be, Dr. Proctor, having learned that Miss Cady had already raised one hundred dollars towards the three hundred needed to hire a reader for Howard, replied to the Senator, "the charge will be two hundred dollars, and you will please make out your check payable to Howard Mc Kinley!" So that was what made it possible for Howard to enter the University of New Mexico. After the four years at college, Howard graduated in 1934 with high honors and the degree of 'Bachelor of Science'.

On his return to Fort Defiance, Howard was offered by the Indian Service, an excellent position in the educational department at the fort, and after due consideration he accepted the position, which naturally disappointed Miss Cady and his other friends at the Mission. There was, however, a good reason for his doing this; it was a romance! There was a worker at the Mission, a native Navajo nurse, "Pauline", and they had decided to be married; since Howard had a good paying job, he could afford such a venture. And yet, they both had a strong leaning towards the Mission and its valuable humanitarian work, and Howard realized his moral and affectionately loyal responsibility towards his "home", so one year later he heroically gave up his lucrative position with the government and returned to the Good Shepherd at a decidedly reduced salary, and became a truly great worker as interpreter and general assistant. He became a special helper for the boys, along vocational lines and also entered heartily into the evangelistic work; in fact he seriously considered studying for holy orders, if only as deacon, but it was decided that it would hardly be advisable. Nevertheless he has always been deeply devoted and, in fact, quite invaluable in many ways. Willing to do any kind of work possible to him, whether religious or scholastic or mechanical, or even menial, he has filled many positions, tuning a piano or repairing a car, or best of all, assisting in the services. For instance, at Holy Communion, standing in the chancel after the Epistle, he would repeat it in Navajo, and after the Gospel he would do the same, as well as other parts of the service, all because of his marvelous memory. In the Sunday school or out in the field with the evangelistic workers, he would repeat what others had read or said, and also give his own message. He and Pauline are today raising a happy family and doubtless pray that one of their sons at least, may follow in their father's footsteps. At a meeting of Convocation recently, he expressed himself as follows for his people:

"The brotherhood of mankind has been expressed at the Convocation. We appreciate that. All we need is the opportunity for education and to learn more about Jesus Christ. We have made progress; what we need on the Navajo Reservation is unity, and not so much that they become Catholic, Protestant or Mormon, but that they become Christian. In the Navajo country is being born a new Christian nation. Whatever undertaking we attempt will be on the solid foundation of Jesus Christ, for our leaders are Christian and we are on the way toward the kingdom of God."

[50] MARIE

A contemporary of Howards was Dal da he Degay, who was baptized as "Marie"; they had both come at about the same time and were nearly of the same age. This child had come from Chin Lee after her mother's death. They played and studied happily together as children and when their trails branched off in different directions they kept up a friendly relation. There is not much to tell about her early days, but when she was old enough she was sent to the Indian school at Phoenix, where she remained for several years and made many friends, especially the matron of the girls' dormitory, Miss Taylor. Since she wished to be useful, and perhaps some day return to the Mission as a teacher, Marie decided to enter the school at Tempe, not far from Phoenix, which at that time was called a state normal school, although today it is a very large and widely known "state college" of high standing. The Phoenix Indian School in those days was not an "accredited school", so she could not have entered a regular college, but she was admitted into the normal school with some adjustments. However, after all the necessary books had been secured and Marie was getting settled, a sad thing happened; she came down with acute appendicitis! Then followed a strange adventure.

She was immediately ordered to go to the hospital for an operation, but before an attendant arrived to take her she had put a few things in a suitcase and then in spite of her pain, rushed to a Phoenix bus, changed at Phoenix to an Indian School bus, and on her arrival at the school, rushed again to the girls' dormitory, which to her was "home", opened the door and collapsed! Fortunately, her good friend Miss Taylor was near and had the girl taken at once to the school hospital, where an operation was immediately performed. It was not too late, and the operation was in every way a success. Afterwards the doctor; having heard the whole story, said, "Nobody but a Navajo could have done that!"

Marie did not go back to the normal school, but instead found a position as maid in the home of a prominent Phoenix family, where she remained for a number of years, being treated almost as a member of the family with a cozy apartment of her own. Then came a romance! She married an excellent man, a Mr. Keith Johnson, who took her to Flagstaff to live, where he had a regular job, and where they have lived ever since.


While the work of the Mission was of course more or less routine, yet it never was dull; there was always something happening and often in rather unexpected ways. During one of the writer's visits, official or otherwise, in the year 1923, an unusual happening witnessed to the fine spirit of unselfish service that always prevailed. There had been many days of rain, and Black Creek, not far away, had gone on the rampage more than once, with its flooding waters and the treacherous under-lying quicksands which shifted about dangerously. One evening at ten o'clock, just as the staff members were about to retire for the night, there was a loud knock on the front door of the main building which, by the way, was always left unlocked. We opened the door and a dripping and bedraggled Navajo was admitted. He said that his wagon was bogged down in the ford of the creek about a mile away, and he needed help. At once the splendid team of powerful horses was brought out by some of the men of the Mission, who hurried off to the rescue in the pouring rain. They dragged out the horses and wagon of the man, and he himself was given hospitality for the night. Nor was this an uncommon event, especially in that very wet summer, so it was decided to put up a strong electric light on a high pole outside the buildings, that its rays might be shed far and wide, and even could be seen from the ford of Black Creek; and it became well known that help and safety could always be found at "kin-li-gai", or white house.

The following winter, (1923-1924), Miss Powell who had come in 1921, was obliged to leave, and her place was taken by Miss Marjorie Hawkes, an experienced nurse from Massachusetts, so the work continued without abatement; and with great encouragement because of two substantial gifts for improvement and advance which were received. One of these was a legacy of $1900.00, the first of its kind ever to be given, which came from the estate of Joanna Hagan of Philadelphia. This was used to build, just north of the main building, a single stone house containing two bedrooms and a bath, which could be used as a guest house for visitors. The other gift, to the great joy of all, was from the Westchester Auxiliary, and made possible the installing of a heating plant for all the buildings, in the basement of the new house. This forever did away with the danger and inconvenience of the many stoves, and added to the comfort of all in a wonderful way.

In May of this year--1924--Bishop Atwood made his customary visit, and followed the usual program of services, including preaching in the Presbyterian Church at the fort. At the afternoon service for Indians in our chapel, he baptized nine children. It was the writer's privilege to make a visit a few months later, and at this time there was present as a helper a young native worker belonging to the Presbyterians; this was Tsi-hi-Notah, and his previous experience is important to record. While a student at the government school at the fort, he was listed as a Roman Catholic, for that church had a large and flourishing Mission at St. Michael's, six or seven miles away. The pastoral care and interest of the priests of that Mission may have been rather nominal and infrequent as to students in the government school; of this there seems to be no record. However, Tsi-hi found a bible one day and read it with interest. When he came to the Gospel of John and read the third chapter, the sixteenth verse thrilled him: "God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten son that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but hath everlasting life". In that verse, he said, came the Revelation of life to him. Here was something he had missed, something no one had given him. He saw for the first time the meaning of the Incarnation; it gripped him with force; God had come near him in Jesus Christ. He said that he could no longer remain in the Roman communion, which had failed to give him the truth. For three days, he said, he remained in his room at the school, and in the meantime, one of the priests came to him and argued with him and tried to persuade him that he was wrong. But all in vain; he had made up his mind. Then he went to the near-by Presbyterian Mission and talked it over with the minister, and as a result, went into the Presbyterian fold.

He had been a friend of Thomas, and after Thomas had died, Tsi-hi was asked to take his place for a time as interpreter. This he willingly did, and although by this time a strong Presbyterian, his fine Christian spirit enabled him to adapt himself most acceptably and to render devoted service to our Mission for some time. At the same time, Thomas' widow, Dora, remained at the Mission as a regular worker, uplifting her sorrow into consecrated service.

[52] The growth of the material equipment of the Mission, with its new lighting and heating plant, made necessary the employment of an efficient and well-trained man; in fact, a genius. Most fortunately just such a person was soon to be found. He was Mr. Emerson Snell, who had formerly been a general mechanic at the fort. He, with his wife and young son, came into residence and proved in the years to come to be a most helpful and congenial addition to the staff. Always considerate of the Indians, and well liked by them, he filled an important place in the life of the ever-growing family. He gladly took a class of boys in the Sunday school, and after a while, he and his wife and boy were confirmed.

Na Glen Na Bah and Not Des Bah

To you who are reading this, we will call them "Topsy" and "Polly". It was in the spring of 1923, a few months before my visit to the Mission when I had my conference with Thomas Atkinson, that there arrived from some remote part of the reservation a little lass who had been rescued by a government doctor from near Tohatchie. She was in rags and tatters and her hair blew all over her face, and Miss Cady, when she saw her, said, "She is a regular 'topsy' ", and Topsy she became for the rest of her life! Everything was strange to her, including the English language, of course, and she hardly said a word for several days. But after being bathed and dressed in good clothes, she became more friendly and soon picked up some English words. But since there were no other girls of her age, she was a bit lonesome. Miss Cady gave her the name of Madeleine, and here is where "Not Des Bah" comes on the scene. However, this is quite another story but closely connected with these events. Here it is: way up on the reservation, in the neighborhood of Chin Lee and Canyon de Shelly (Shay-yee) there was an old woman who was taking care of her grandchild, and she was 'Not Des Bah'. Taking care of her? Making her a slave and abusing her cruelly! Her special duty was to tend the sheep, and that was all right, for most of the Navajo sheep are 'shedherded' by the little children. But this child had nothing but an old gunny sack for clothing, and often went hungry. Worse than that, she had trachoma badly, as so many do, and was growing worse and getting blind, and couldn't care for the flock as well as she should. So her grandmother would beat her; and when she saw that the child's eyes were filling and that she was likely to become blind, she beat her some more: and then an uncle stepped in, for he pitied the child and wanted to help her, and one night when the old woman was asleep, he put Not Des Bah on his horse, hoping that the government school at Chin Lee would admit her. When, late at night, the school Superintendent heard a knock on the door and went to open it, he was amazed to see that wretched child standing there, her eyes streaming and her hair matted down with vermin and filth, and he realized that they must not let her come in on account of all the children. However, he listened to the uncle's story and simply could not turn her away, so he called some of the teachers, who also were distressed. They took the forlorn little girl in; she was submissive but frightened; she had never seen white people and everything was strange to her. They took her into a bath-room not used by the pupils, but when they tried to bathe her, she screamed in terror! However, she did get some kind of a scrubbing, especially as to her head, and they got her some food, but she wouldn't touch it. They then made up a bed in some remote corner of the building, but when they tried to lift her into the bed and cover her; again she shrieked and jumped out. She had never seen a bed, for her only bed had been a sheep-skin on the floor. So the teachers put down on the floor in the corner of the room, a couple of blankets folded, and on this kind of a bed the child was ready to lie down, but first she was willing to drink a cup of milk.

The next morning there was a conference and the Superintendent said there was just one thing to do and that was to take her as soon as possible to the Good Shepherd Hospital, sixty miles to the south, over a terrible road. This he did and Not Des Bah was willing to go. And the ride fascinated her as they went through the strange country. Dressed in some clean clothes, she was not quite such a pathetic sight when they arrived at the hospital, and Miss Cady welcomed the child in her kindly manner that inspired a little more confidence in her. The Superintendent told the story as it had been told to him by the uncle, and Miss Cady's heart was filled with tender sympathy. Still more scrubbing and the cutting of the hair and treatment of scalp--with coal oil!--and some more clothes were in order for several days, during which time the child hardly uttered a word. But right here is where Topsy came in. She at once took her under her special personal charge and they chatted together in the friendliest way. Not Des Bah's eyes were [52/53] treated successfully and her sight was saved. Just how Miss Cady happened to choose the name "Polly" I never knew, but on my arrival not long afterwards, I baptized the two children by their new names, and they became officially and spiritually members of the family of the church. Dora Atkinson naturally took a great interest in both of these young girls, and Polly decided to adopt the name, Atkinson, as her surname.

During the summer a strange thing occurred; one morning Miss Cady came to me and said, "what do you suppose has happened: Polly's grandmother has come and demands that we give her back for she belongs to her!" "We can't possibly do that", I replied; "Of course not," said Miss Cady, "but i am terribly afraid that Polly will see her and be frightened to death. Couldn't you take her away somewhere and don't let her come back until much later?" That's just what I did, for I quickly got the other children together and proposed that we all go on a hike to Black Rock, about a mile away. We went and had a jolly time climbing the rock and playing games until late afternoon. When we got back I asked Miss Cady how she had managed the old woman. She replied that she had emphatically told the grandmother that she could not have the child because she had been so cruel to her, and when the old woman declared that she would go at once to the Superintendent, Miss Cady told her to go ahead. Then she went to the telephone and called up the Superintendent about it and he replied that he would settle it definitely. As we afterwards found out, he had scolded the grandmother severely for her treatment of the child and told her he would not give her up, and commanded the old woman to go home and never to come back again; and she never did! And Polly never found out what had happened!

After these near-tragic happenings, everything went well. Polly was a good student and it was decided that it would be to her advantage to send her to the Phoenix Indian School. She did well there for a while, and then a sad chapter in her young life began, for unmistakable signs of "T.B." developed and she was taken to the Indian Tubercular Sanitarium, about a mile from the school. But it was too late, and the child's days were numbered. I was in Phoenix that summer and could visit her often. A special nurse was secured, which helped for a time, but not for long, and she faded all too quickly away. In mid-July the Good Shepherd himself came to meet her. There being no relatives at the fort or anywhere as far as we knew, it was decided to have her buried in Phoenix. And so this child, who had been born in the lowest possible estate, and had been rescued from slavery and misery to sojourn for a while at our Mission, was now to have her last service in the Cathedral, the district's largest and most beautiful church! Seven young girls from the Cathedral formed a choir, and six boys from the Indian School acted as bearers. In Forest Lawn Cemetery was her mortal resting place; and surely she was, as was said of her "Not Des Bah, a Navajo lamb of the Good Shepherd's flock". And we know well that he took her home with him to paradise.

But now what about "Na Glen Na Bah"--that is, "Topsy"? Well, her poor vision retarded any advance along scholastic lines, so she was sent to the blind school at Alamogordo in New Mexico, where Howard had been before her. Unlike him, however, she was not a brilliant scholar, but she did learn many useful things including running a telephone switchboard. She worked for a year at Ganado, and then at Oakland, California and was employed at the "Industries for the Blind" there. And here she had her romance and married one of her 'associates', Nick Analla, who had about as much vision as she, and he is now employed in the X-ray department of an Oakland hospital.

The winter of 1924-1925 came on in its time, and another severe one it surely was! How fortunate that Mr. Snell had been installed in his new position! He was ready for the worst; it came by Christmas, when the thermometer registered twenty below zero! Already pipes at the fort had been frozen, but not so at the Mission. With wise and painstaking precaution he had provided for every contingency so that no damage was done. Cozy and warm in all the buildings, the family could enjoy to the full the Christmas festival. There was a Christmas Eve service in English and Navajo, with the singing of carols taught by Teddy Dawes, one of the new helpers. On Christmas morning, even before dawn, Dora and two Navajo girls sang carols in the dining room, it being too cold by far to go outside, as they had planned. During the day, one hundred and forty Indians were welcomed at the big tree in the front yard of the hospital. There were toys for the little ones and candy for all. In the true Christmas spirit of giving, an offering from the members of the Sunday school was presented for the tubercular work of our church in Arizona, especially for our St. Luke's Home in Phoenix. Best of all the happenings of the day was the presence of Miss Thackara, who had arrived for a visit. What changes and improvements she witnessed! And how full of joy was her heart.

[54] The spring of 1925 came and Miss Thackara had remained to help, and most fortunate it was, for in May Miss Cady was stricken with appendicitis and had to be hurried to Gallup for an operation. Again fortunately, Miss Davenport had returned after a long absence, and she and Miss Hawkes could step in and help Miss Thackara, and Dora did her special part in the religious activities. How greatly Thomas was missed, but Teddy Dawes was most effective. The Bishop made his regular spring visit, and it was at this time that the Snells were confirmed.

In the year 1925, Bishop Atwood, having reached the age of retirement, decided to take advantage of the church's regulation, although it was not compulsory and he was in excellent condition of health and activity. His formal resignation was presented at the meeting of General Convention in New Orleans in October, to take effect as soon as a successor should be elected and consecrated. The Rev. Walter Mitchell, D.D. who at the time was serving in New Jersey, was accordingly elected, and was consecrated in January, 1926. His first official Convocation of the District was held in Prescott the following April, and Bishop Atwood was present to introduce him. The new Bishop then paid the following gracious tribute to his predecessor:

"He had laid foundations on which those of us who are permitted to follow may with safety build for many generations, for these foundations are both broad and deep. Our wisdom should be, as I see things now, just to continue to build on those foundations. The time may come when we should add to them, but for the present it would seem that we should follow the plans which he has marked out for us. Year by year, as time goes on, the wisdom of these plans will but become the more manifest. I, personally, have cause to thank God for such a predecessor."

Bishop Mitchell felt however that certain changes should be made in the organization of the Good Shepherd Mission for greater efficiency in its operation. It seemed to him that as a church institution the Superintendent should be a clergyman, rather than a woman, for a regular Chaplain would be needed and it might be embarrassing for him to serve under a woman! And so, although Miss Thackara and Miss Cady had done marvelous things in the conduct and development of the Mission; Miss Cady was obliged to step down from her official position, which she had so faithfully and acceptably held for ten years, and now to become "Assistant Superintendent and Head Nurse". This change Miss Cady accepted in the fine Christian spirit that had always inspired her actions. For the position of Superintendent, the Bishop selected the Rev. William B. Heagerty, M.D. whose medical experience would be an advantage in the work. Dr. Heagerty with Mrs. Heagerty arrived in September, 1927. The report of Miss Cady for the year 1926 and presented at the Convocation held in Phoenix in January, 1927, showed that 186 patients had been treated during the year, the wards being over-crowded with children sleeping two in a bed, and some on the floor! She said that there were hopes of building soon, a wing to the main building which would relieve the congestion and also provide two rooms for a much-needed school. During this time, Teddy Dawes had resigned as interpreter and his place taken by Henry Gatewood, an educated Navajo whose brother Clarence had previously been connected with the Mission for a number of years. Also, Miss Hawkes had resigned, but her place as nurse had been filled by Miss Sarah Jane Mc Intyre, another "U.T.O." worker, who had had special experience with the treatment of trachoma. As to Dr. Richards, who was still with them, he had become nationally known as an expert on the dread disease.

Miss Cady had spoken of the need of a school, and that the new wing on the main building would make room for such a school. This had become quite a necessity, because so many of the children had to undergo treatment for their eyes three times a day, but were free to go about during the rest of the day, which made it important that they should have some kind of teaching. But under the circumstances, the government schools would not admit them, so there certainly must be a school at the Mission, and two connecting rooms in the main building now made available by the addition of the wing could well provide the school that was needed. For a teacher, Bishop Atwood, who although far away had continued his keen interest in the Mission, discovered a certain Miss Gertrude Dame of Lynn, Massachusetts, already a "U.T.O." worker. This was indeed a most providential discovery, and in February, 1927, the school was started, with Miss Dame as teacher and 22 children enrolled. This must have pleased Dr. Suter whose comments about the children and their heroism has been mentioned above.

[55] In September of 1927 Miss Cady wrote a letter of appreciation to the members of the Westchester branch for all they had done for the Mission and gave a description of what was going on. It was such a fine picture that it is worthy of rather full quotation here, at least of certain sections of it.

"There is so much to write that I don't know where to begin. The summer has gone so very fast because I was in California for a full month. This is the first time I have been away from here during the summer for seven years, so it has made the summer all too short. I really was obliged to get away for I had had a rather serious illness, but I came back feeling much refreshed. It is a good thing I had this rest and change, for the time since my return has been very strenuous and the winter ahead of us promises to be strenuous also. Now we have a young girl to cook under our supervision, which helps, and the past week we have secured a girl to do the laundry work. Last week Miss Davenport started for her visit to her home in Washington and of course we miss her so much and assuming her work makes us busier than ever,

During the summer Bishop Mitchell put a divinity student, Mr. Hugh Fryer, of the Philadelphia Seminary, here for the summer. He was a very nice young man and had a nice service and Sunday school each Sunday. He is going to try to do some speaking for us this winter. I am in hopes he and Miss Davenport between them can get us some gfts of money to help out with, because I was obliged to go ahead without the money and put in a septic tank for our sewage this summer. The old cesspool had given out and this was the only thing to do for we could not face the winter with no sewerage on the place. Then too, this will be ready to connect the new wing to, when we build in the spring. I am trying to save and pay for this from my running expenses each month, but as our family never seem to shrink below forty, I cannot get much ahead. This is the first time I have ever been behind or been in debt, and it troubles me, but I will get out some way. I am trying to keep two men in the stone quarry all the time, getting out stone for the wing and pay them out of my running expenses so as not to be obliged to touch the "Wing Fund" in the bank before next spring.

September 1st, Dr. Heagerty and his wife arrived. [*see previous page] They are living in the two rooms belonging to the interpreter and are also using the guest house for the winter with the hopes that we can build them a house in the spring. Poor Miss Dame had to give up the interpreter's rooms which she was using for a school, and, as the cook left, we gave her room to Miss Dame and fixed it up for her school. It is not very satisfactory, for it is small and they are terribly crowded. However, we hope it will be only for this winter, for when we get the wing up next spring, there will be two rooms available for the school work.

Today and tomorrow the domestic continental Bishops are having their annual meeting at Grand Canyon. As many as possible are coming to visit this work with Bishop Mitchell, after the conference. They reach Gallup Thursday morning and we bring them out for lunch and then they visit and see the place and return that evening. Bishop Mitchell expects there will be twelve of them, but is to wire me today or tomorrow the number. It was arranged at this meeting last fall that they should meet in a different Missionary District each year, and at that time to visit one Mission in the District, and the Bishop chose this place for their visit. Of course we are more than busy getting ready for them.

Howard and the other children from the school for the blind were here this summer. They are lovely, and Howard is such a fine boy. They [55/56] have returned to their school, and Allie Mae and Polly, my other two orphan children, have gone to the school in Phoenix." (The Phoenix Government Indian School).

In 1928, a stone entrance to the grounds, surmounted by a cross, was erected to take the place of the iron ranch gate. This was a gift of the Westchester Branch of the Woman's Auxiliary.

The Indian Service, at length realizing the increasing danger from trachoma, segregated all trachomatous children from the government school, and since many of these were already in our hospital, others were sent to us. Even with the projected wing, the accommodations would be limited, especially since there were several adult Indians to care for. However, soon the government built a large well-equipped hospital, so that the adult Indians of the Mission could be transferred there to make more room for our eye cases. Thus "The Good Shepherd" became a specialized hospital and remained so until further changes were made necessary. However, the school needed larger quarters, and was moved into somewhat larger rooms, but even so was crowded until the government set up its enlargement program by erecting another building; then the afflicted children could be cared for, including some at the Mission. But many of these were orphans and had no homes to go to after being discharged, so they would have to remain at the Mission, which now of necessity became an "Orphanage", as well as a school. Moreover, the Superintendent of the reservation, and also Chee Dodge, the head man of the whole tribe, heartily approved of this new plan and encouraged it in every way. Miss Cady and Miss Dame and Miss Davenport continued with this new program with hearty cooperation.

Meantime, Dr. Heagerty had resigned to accept another position, not in Arizona, and in the spring of 1929, the Bishop sent the writer, who, as Archdeacon, was accustomed to go anywhere he might be needed, to assume charge of the religious work of the Mission, with Miss Cady as temporary Superintendent. Miss Rose Crosby, a native Navajo, would continue as "helper". During this period there were thirty-one 'boarding' pupils in the school, most of whom were the original orphans who had been there a long time, and there were also five day-pupils from the neighborhood. It was shortly before my visit that a very attractive rectory was built, and in the following summer, my sister, Miss Lucy H. Jenkins, joined me, so that we were the first occupants of the new rectory, which was just across the drive-way from the main building.

Miss Janet Waring, one of the high officials of the "Westchester Branch", made a visit to the Mission in the fall of that year. She had also been there back in 1902, so that she was quite familiar with the surroundings, as well as with the history of the work, and was greatly interested in all that was going on. On this later visit she had a decidedly thrilling experience. The weather was exceedingly unfavorable, after a very rainy summer, and on the day before she arrived in Gallup, there had been a tremendous down-pour, almost a cloud-burst. However, Miss Cady and Mr. Hildrebrand met her at the train, and it was decided to venture the trip to Fort Defiance in spite of some risk involved. It was indeed a 'calculated risk'; in fact it was quite an adventure and took them ten hours to make this thirty-five miles! Afterwards Miss Waring wrote a letter to a friend in which she graphically described her perilous trip and also told of her impressions of the activities and personnel of the 'splended work of the Mission'.

In July of 1929, the Rev. Walter L. Beckwith, with his family, arrived to succeed Dr. Heagerty as official Superintendent of the Mission. In connection with the program of the orphanage and school, regular evangelistic visits were made to Indian camps by Mr. Beckwith and Miss Cady, assisted by Tsi Hi Notah as interpreter, and also by one of the women associated with the Mission, which, although no longer a hospital, did conduct a dispensary. This accomplished much good, although only a very small room was available at the time. However, the religious work was always made most prominent and was centered about the Chapel where services continued to be held, not only for the Indians but also for the white people who lived near the fort. The orphanage part of the program also became more and more important and its reputation spread far and wide; even the government Indian Bureau became interested and worked out a plan to pay for the care of certain orphan children for whom the reservation was especially responsible.

There were so many other children, who not only appealed to our sympathies, but to our great personal interest because of their outstanding personality, that it will be impossible to tell the particular stories of them all. However, while seeming to be a bit partial, we will venture to select a few of them.

[57] Howard and Marie had come at about the same time and were only a year apart in age; then later came Topsy and Polly, also contemporaries, but somewhat later still a "quartette" appear upon the scene, not at exactly the same time, but very nearly--it was about 1930 or 1931. I am not sure of the order, so we may as well begin with Margaret Plummer. Her home was in a most picturesque spot, on top of a wooded hill, just off the coal mine road. Her mother had died when the baby was about fifteen months old, and Ralph, her father, felt that he could not properly take care of the child, so he sent her to "Good Shepherd", the fame of which had spread widely. Then three in a row came from Crown Point Hospital about forty miles away; they were Rose Marie Henry, Bernice Bernully and Anita Chavez. The mothers of all these had died when their little ones were mere infants and nothing whatever was known of their fathers, except the father of Rose, who was still living. So these four were about of the same age when they came, about two, and they grew up together from the start and became quite inseparable. Differing more or less in temperament and tastes, they yet managed to get along together without too many spats or hair-pullings, and as they continued to grow, they were bound together in companionship and understanding. They were certainly the life of the Mission, and many a romp and picnic they had with the Archdeacon whenever he came. It was not until 1933 that they were baptized by the Rev. Mr. Creasey, who had followed Mr. Beckwith in 1932. In due time they were carefully and "sufficiently instructed" by Miss Cady and others and prepared for confirmation, the finishing touches as it were being by the Archdeacon on one of his visits. Educated in the Mission School and partly in the government school, as they grew older, they began to separate. And where are they now? Margaret, after two years at Phoenix College, returned to the Mission as a stenographer, and in September of 1954 was married to Joe Jose, a son of the Senior Warden of the Mission, Ben Jose. Rose Marie also returned to the Mission as a helper, but was contemplating going to Albuquerque for a course in practical nurse training in the government school. Bernice was married to an Air Force student, and is living with her husband, a Mr. De Paul, and her little ones at the air field near Colorado Springs. Anita also, having been twice married, is in Colorado Springs.

Returning to 1930, it was a memorable year, the Mission having "as fine a staff of 'U.T.O.' workers as any Mission in the church." It was, therefore, a matter of deep regret that Miss Dame was obliged to return to her home in the east. It seemed at the time as if no one could take her place. However, in a most providential way, a worthy successor was soon found. This was Miss Jane Pitkin, a graduate of Teachers' College in New York, who took charge of the school and conducted it with efficiency and devotion. At about this time, Miss Ruth Harmon, who had had a fine experience among Indians in South Dakota and Nevada, was secured as house-mother for the girls, and Miss Ella Davis, a graduate of the Church Training School in Philadelphia, joined the staff as housemother for the boys. There were then thirty orphans ranging from five to twelve years of age, and with the newly-organized and enlarged excellent staff it was possible to carry out the plans for Miss Cady to be an active visiting nurse as well as a social worker. Accompanied by Tsi-Hi Notah as interpreter, she could make frequent visits for half a day at a time to all the hogans within driving distance, caring for the sick or injured Indians with sympathy and skill. They also held classes each week at a trading store in the mountains, twenty-five miles away, and a clinic twice a month, twenty-five miles in the opposite direction. Still another clinic was held seven miles away. In all these visits, these two Missionaries were most gladly welcomed by the Indians, who were not slow to express their gratitude, and who listened with keen interest to the moral and spiritual talks that were given each time. On the Sunday following each of these visits a truck-load of Mission children would accompany Miss Cady and Tsi-Hi Notah, and regular preaching services would be held, the children joining lustily in the singing of Gospel hymns from the Navajo Hymnal. During this time and for yet another year there was no clergyman in residence, for Mr. Beckwith had been obliged to leave on account of his wife's poor health, and the need of a Priest in Charge, who should also be the Superintendent, was greatly felt. However, the work went on, as described above, and great progress was made all along the line, although a great need was felt for an additional building, so that more children could be taken in and cared for.

One of the most important "field-stations" was at a Saw Mill, about fifteen miles north of Fort Defiance and on very high land, the altitude being nearly nine thousand feet. Here were several good cottages of officials and other employees, and many Indians came from their homes to work at the mill. Miss Cady started visiting this settlement, doing clinical work and holding services in a school-house. But she had no adequate place to stay and so her work was limited. Then came a wonderful gift of a well-equipped trailer [57/58] where she could stay for long periods of time and continue her good work to greater advantage. The story of her experiences there, especially when she braved the weather during the severe winters, would fill a book by itself. Reporting after two years of this work, Miss Cady said, "Five thousand people came to see us at the trailer last year and we treated over five thousand patients . . . And about one thousand more came to our meetings." The people were truly appreciative and expressed their gratitude. Later a regular Mission house was erected and the work advanced along all lines.

All this time the Good Shepherd Mission itself was advancing and more interesting and appealing "personalities" were coming to the front. Let us hear about them and the contributions they made to the life of the Mission.

Hanabah and Yilthnasbah

One day in 1931 two most forlorn and frightened little sisters were brought by their grandfather from near Klagetoh. These were Hanabah and Yilthnasbah Cuthair, six and three years old. Their father had shot their mother, and himself in a domestic quarrel, right in the presence of the children. This grandfather had known afar of the reputation of the Mission and knew that orphans were cared for there, so he had brought them and asked to have them brought up by the Mission. He said he had never had a chance to go to school but wanted these children to be educated. After these little girls had overcome their homesickness and fear, the change that was wrought in them was almost phenomenal, although gradual. They were very much respected and loved by all who delt with them during the years they were there! Baptized, and later confirmed by Bishop Mitchell they grew up into Christian womanhood, and after a year or two in a more advanced school, they returned and Hanabah, the older one, soon married a good Navajo man and settled down a few miles away, where she has been raising a family of delightful little ones. The younger sister with the hard-to-pronounce name, took the name of "Catherine", and became a graduate nurse in an Indian hospital in the State of Washington. All this is what "The Good Shepherd Mission to the Navajo" can do, and is doing for the good of the Navajo tribe, for humanity and for the kingdom of God.

Odesbah Thomas

This child's mother had died when the baby was born at Rehedoth Mission Hospital which is a short distance from Fort Wingate, New Mexico. She stayed there for about two years, having been left there by her father, but when he married again he took her with him. Shortly after this the father was killed at a grade crossing, and the Santa Fe Railroad Company paid his wife--the child's step-mother--five hundred dollars. The little child was then taken by an aunt, and at three years of age was brought to the government Indian school at Fort Defiance, where it was discovered that she had a bad case of 'otitis media' and was almost stone deaf. She was then taken to our Good Shepherd hospital, and Mr. Hunter, the agent (Superintendent) at Fort Defiance, tried to collect some of the five hundred dollars that had been paid to her step-mother, but he succeeded in getting only thirty dollars, which was put in a bank at Gallup for her!

Nothing could be done for her at the agency, and no one could make her understand anything. She cried continuously, and in despair Mr. Hunter asked the Mission to take her in. She arrived, a tragic little child, pitiful to see, the condition of her ears being almost beyond hope. She became Miss Cady's special charge and was allowed to share her room with her, following her around like her shadow. The transformation in this long neglected child in a few months was little short of a miracle--a miracle of love and care. As someone said of her, "a radiant, smiling, irresistible little person, unable to hear or speak a word, with a funny droning, singing language of her own and blissfully unconscious that she was missing anything! A smiling face, two swift little legs and two arms stretched out in perfect confidence that she will be welcome, makes a perfectly happy world for her."

The other children were kind to her and she would imitate all she saw them do, trying with difficulty to enter into their games and all their doings. She was quick to observe that at bed-time each child knelt at her bed-side; she didn't know what it was all about, but sensed that it was something important, so she did the same, and Miss Cady [58/59] said that "no power on earth would make her get into bed at night before first going down upon her knees." She was indeed the pet of the school and of the staff. "Her one role seemed to be to maintain and enforce order, and a thing once learned became a precept for life!" One Sunday morning she was sitting in the chapel at a service of special instructions in Missionary giving, and each child was given a penny to place in the alms basin, as a means of teaching them to do good to others. Odesbah was accustomed to seeing pennies and other coins, but paper money was something new to her, so when one of the teachers went up to the chancel to deposit her offering, which was a bill, Odesbah, following behind saw it and thought it was not the correct thing, so she took the bill out of the plate as just a piece of dark paper in the midst of the shining pennies, quite against the rule, and returned to her seat, having triumphantly restored order! But when one of the older girls took her by the hand and led her up to place the bill again on the plate, with a troubled look she put the bill back with a smile and a look of "never-too-old-to-learn."

There seemed to be little hope of.having her hearing restored at the Mission, so before long she was taken to the "School for the Blind and Deaf" at Tucson, a very excellent state institution. There she learned the artificial method of speaking and all that goes with it, and remained there until she was old enough to be married. But this was not a successful venture, for her husband was killed on the railroad, as her father had been before. Then she came back to the Mission in 1952 and joined the staff of workers, which was a fine idea . . . Recently, however, Mrs. "Odesbah Aviso" decided to go to Wingate Village, near Gallup, where she now lives with her two children.


Sometime in the early 'twenties' there came to the Mission as cook, a young woman named 'Ken-Na-Bah', whose husband had recently died. She had with her a very small child whom she presented for baptism giving his name as 'Kenneth', which seemed appropriate. For the next few years the little lad was brought up as a member of the Mission family, and was quite a favorite with all. In the year, 1929, when the writer of this 'story' was temporarily in charge of the religious and pastoral work of the Mission, Ken-Na-Bah died and left little Kenneth in the care of the Mission, with the request that he be brought up there. But his grandfather, Frank Dinetdele, who was living in a most isolated region in the mountains on the border of New Mexico, hearing about his daughter's death, came to Fort Defiance to claim his little grandson, who at the time was about eight years old. Reluctantly the Mission authorities had to recognize the claim of the grandfather and allow him to take Kenneth away with him. But in the meantime Mary Dinetdele, a sister of Ken-Na-Bah, who lived at Fort Defiance, discussed the matter with Miss Cady and others, and emphasized the fact that the child's mother had expressly requested that he be brought up at the Mission. And it was decided that I should take Mary and Miss Cady to the grandfather's home and urge him to let Kenneth return to the Mission.

Accordingly, on April 25th, (1929) we drove in my car in search of the little lad, and quite an adventure it was! We drove to within a few miles of Gallup, New Mexico, and then turned north on the Farmington Road along the edge of the mountains, and all we knew of exactly where we were going was that somewhere in that region grandfather Dinetdele had his hogan, and we were trusting that the various traders whose stores were here and there along the route could give us some information. At the first store we came to, nobody knew where to direct us, but we were advised to stop at the next trader's store a few miles further along the highway. Finally we found the right place and the trader said that the old man had been right there a short time before, and he directed us to follow him along a rough mountain trail--you could hardly call it a road--that led up over a mesa a little way off. We followed it all right, and if it hadn't been that our car was an old time affair, very stout and with plenty of 'road clearance' we would hardly have made the grade. There were deep ruts, and rocks all around, demanding, if not great skill, at least an abundance of faith and determination. At length we reached the summit, and although we had not overtaken 'grandfather', we could see off to the left, quite a distance from the trail, a hogan which Mary identified as the right one. We found the old man at home, and then followed a period of patient persuasion while Mary and Miss Cady explained the purpose of our visit, and Ken-Ne-Bah's dying request. Of course he was surprised and not wholly pleased. However, being a reasonable sort of man, in fact a good Navajo, he became convinced that our plan was wise. We asked where the little lad could be found, [59/60] and were directed to a gap in the rocks near by, and there was a sight that I shall long remember. Down in a little green meadow, about a quarter of a mile away, were some sheep feeding, and in their midst was a bright red spot, which was Kenneth's bright new sweater, enclosing the 'little shepherd'. If at that time Moffatt's translation of the Bible had been in existence, I would at once have been reminded of his rendering of Isaiah 11:6 "herded by a little child".

The grandfather went to bring him, and the next sight that I shall long remember was the old man, tall and fine-looking, coming along the narrow trail and the little shepherd walking by his side, his hand in his grandfather's. He could not understand what it was all about, and when his Aunt Mary tried to explain it, it hurt him deeply. The loss of his mother had broken his little heart, although his visit with his grandfather had helped some; but now to be taken away from him,--well, that only made matters worse! So when I placed him by my side on the front seat and started the car, it was too much, and he cried out piteously, "shi ma, shi ma!"; ("my mother, my mother"). It brought tears to the eyes of us older ones, but presently, as the car began the descent down the steep, rugged road, the boy was so much interested in the exciting experience that he stood looking through the wind-shield to see what would happen next; that was just what was needed, and when we got down to the highway, he was ready to lie down on the back seat and take a long nap,

We reached the Mission late in the afternoon, and Kenneth was warmly greeted by the children and others, and was he hungry! So he soon settled down and began to be more content amid the familiar scenes and faces. But for several days he would not speak to me, or come near me, for he associated me somehow with his difficulties, until one day as I was walking along the drive-way, I felt a hand in mine; it was his little hand! Then all was well and we were good friends.

I do not recall just what happened to Kenneth, after my time was up at the Mission, and I presume he was sent to school with the other children; but I never saw him again, for on my other visits to the Mission in the following years, he was not there, and I haven't seen him since. However, Miss Davis, who has always taken a special interest in following up the growing young people, wherever they happened to be, wrote to me recently that Kenneth, with his wife and three children was living at Gamerco, near Gallup, and was working for the El Paso Gas Co. in its Arizona connections.

Among the interesting events of the year, 1932, was the marriage of Rose Crosby, who for a number of years had been a faithful and constant helper along many lines, to James Wauneka, a fellow-laborer in this vineyard, and an estimable young man. The ceremony was performed by the writer, as an old friend, who was summoned from Phoenix to take part in the joyful occasion. It was also in this year that Bishop Mitchell had called the Rev. S. W. Creasey, who had been Archdeacon of the District of Eastern Oregon, to be the new Superintendent of the Mission. The plan was that Miss Cady should continue as Assistant Superintendent and head nurse. First, however, she took a well-earned and much needed leave of absence, to travel widely and to visit distant friends. Her place as head nurse was taken by Miss Sarah Mc Intire, who had been at the Mission for several months and was most efficient and greatly liked. Miss Cady, on her return, once more devoted herself to her active labors, which she regarded rather as an untold privilege of service, but which called for no little personal sacrifice.


The great depression of the 1930's had very naturally affected the welfare, not only of the Good Shepherd Mission, but of the Navajo people generally. It was especially felt in 1933 when there was practically no market for blankets or silverware, and no government funds available for providing work for the natives. The Mission strained all its resources to the uttermost to provide food in exchange for labor; often Indian men and women would come a hundred miles to work for flour, sugar and coffee! Intense grazing had injured pasturage, and there was little vegetation to catch and absorb the rains that fell. Erosion rapidly set in and added to the problem. However, corn seemed to suffer the least, although limited in extent, and this did help the general condition. "The Government Recovery Program" very tardily rectified the erosion to a certain extent; dams were built for flood-control and roads were repaired for travel over the reservation. A new government re-organization plan combined four administrative centres into one, with many sub-agencies, and also the Indians were given a greater share in administration.

At the Mission the scope of the work was enlarged after Miss Cady's return, and she was able to carry on an extensive field-nursing project, especially among the many cases of tuberculosis which resulted in a large degree from malnutrition. Trachoma also was widely prevalent.

In 1934, Mr. Creasey retired and the Rev. Frederick A. Mc Neil, of Phoenix, a native Arizonian, came to take charge as Superintendent. In this year occurred a widespread epidemic of "flu", as well as measles, largely among the under-nourished children, including, of course, those at the Mission. However, well cared for by the efficient staff, all recovered in good time. The interpreter, Tsi Hi Notah, was still on hand and became a most effective worker. The staff now included Miss Ruth Harmon, for shepherding the girls and Miss Davis to look after the boys. The school, which had been begun a few years before, had grown in numbers and importance, and was occupying the ground floor of the new building, the upper floor of which was now the boys' dormitory. Miss Jane Pitkin was the new and well-equipped teacher. The field-work, both for health care and for religious contacts, had been extended to Hunter's Point, twenty miles away to the south. Howard Mc Kinley, who had given up his lucrative position with the educational department of the Indian Service, and had returned to the Mission at a decidedly reduced salary, was most helpful in vocational training and in the evangelistic program.

The great problem that now confronted the staff was to find room and support for the many Navajo children, who needed not only shepherding, but a home, for nearly all of them were orphans or outcasts. It was a heart-breaking experience for Miss Cady and for all to be absolutely obliged to turn many little ones away for mere want of space and resources.

In 1936, Mr. Mc Neil was married to Miss Elizabeth Beecher, the daughter of Bishop Beecher of Nebraska, and was called by his father-in-law to a wide field in the northwestern corner of that state. He was followed at the Mission by the Rev. James R. Helms, rector of St. Mark's Church in Mesa, Arizona. Miss Leola Reid, joined the staff, as a volunteer worker. As a result of the depression, cuts had to be made in the appropriations from the Board of Missions of the church, while at the same time living expenses increased. Yet no children were actually turned away, and even more were accepted, as an act of sublime faith on the part of the new Superintendent. His reward came soon, for the government came to the aid of the Mission by a special appropriation, because the Mission was in fact caring for so many of the little "wards of the government". This was a fit expression of confidence and appreciation of our Mission's work by the United States Indian Service, and was most gratifying to our workers. It was indeed another instance of the close cooperation and sympathetic appreciation which the Indian Service had always had towards our work from its very beginning.

The following year, 1937, found twenty boys and twenty girls being cared for, the largest number so far in the history of the Mission, and still other children were waiting at the government hospital at the fort, to be received by us. Since it was still impossible to care for little ones under three years of age, the great need of a "baby [61/62] house" was becoming more evident, but this need would have to wait another year before it could be met. However, the camp and field work continued and the gift of a trailer for use at Saw Mill made it possible for Miss Cady to spend much of her time there. Fortunately she was permitted to use the government school-house nearby, so she could have classes there, as well as Sunday services. Calls were being made all the time in the neighborhood, where many Indians lived, and constantly these Navajo people were coming to the trailer for emergency first-aid and medical service. Later Miss Muriel Reiman, another "U.T.O." worker, joined her as her assistant. All this time work was going on in other parts of the field, and a Sunday school and evening services were being maintained at Window Rock, the newly established agency, the school and hospital being continued at Fort Defiance.

Perhaps the most encouraging new work was inaugurated at the coal mine, six or eight miles to the east, which continued under some difficulties until a regular building could be put up a few years later, as we shall see as this story unfolds.

In 1938 the total population of the Mission reached forty-four children. Unfortunately for the expanding work in this year, Miss Harmon was compelled to resign after four years of service, faithful and devoted. And soon after this, Miss Pitkin was called to her home in the east because of the illness of her father. These were serious losses, but happily their places were soon to be taken by two other "U.T.O." Missionaries, Deaconess Miriam Allen and Mrs. Elizabeth Ferguson. This was in 1938.

In 1940, Mr. Helms, filled with great hopes, planned an enlarged program, with greater financial support. Alas! Instead there came a deplorable set-back, in a staggering cut in Missionary appropriations in many places. However, although the planned projects could not be carried out as hoped, yet in other respects there was a decided advance in actual work accomplished. More confirmations than ever were recorded, and this largely because of the work at Saw Mill. Also a temporary "baby house" was provided by enlarging one of the older buildings, and this made possible a new kitchen and extra living quarters. But most encouraging of all was an unexpected gift from the far east. Mrs. Samuel (Ethel Chaney) Thorne of New York had been a great supporter of Missionary work in general, and her greatest joy was in the Good Shepherd work among the Navajos. After her decease she left in her will the residue of her estate to the Woman's Auxiliary of New York to be used as they saw fit in advancing Missionary work. The first and largest appropriation from this fund was made to "The Good Shepherd Mission" for a "Thorne Memorial" dining room, kitchen, school, and living quarters building. This was indeed good news, but soon strange things happened. The plan was to have a certain white man put up the building, and he all but signed the contract, but some unexpected complications interfered and no other contractors were available. In the midst of the unhappy situation, Howard Mc Kinley, with his usual foresight and courage, said to Mr. Helms, "we Navajos can build the building; we don't need a white man". Mr. Helms thought it over and gave the word, and the work began. A government official who came to see what was going on said, "we have spent our summer theorizing on ways and means by which we may develop Navajo leadership, and we come home and find that you have spent your summer doing what we were theorizing upon." So the work went on, but slowly because of many difficulties. During this year (1940) the veteran and greatly beloved Miss Cady retired after 25 years of dedicated and devoted service.

A year later, in the summer of 1941, Mr. Helms resigned from his position as Superintendent, to become "Archdeacon of Indian Work in Arizona", but was soon called to become a chaplain in the U. S. Air Force, with headquarters in Riverside, California. Just before leaving Fort Defiance, Mr. Helms had said, "I am happy, as I leave the Good Shepherd to know that Miss Thackara's pioneering spirit continues among the Navajos."

Mr. Helms was succeeded by his personal friend, the Rev. Cecil Harris of St. Mark's Church in Mesa, Arizona, who had been brought into our church from the ministry of the "Christian church" in Mesa, through the friendly influence of Mr. Helms when he was rector of St. Mark's. Unfortunately however, Mr. Harris was soon obliged to leave Arizona for California on account of his health, and he remained in California until his sad passing away eleven years later. He was followed, in 1942, by the Rev. Hector Thompson, who had been a Missionary in western Wyoming. But he in turn made only a short stay at Good Shepherd and was followed in 1943 by the Rev. David W. Clark, who with his father and brother John, had been Missionaries among the Sioux Indians in South Dakota. During Mr. Clark's superintendency of ten years, much progress was made along various lines. Before [62/63] he came there had been no welfare branch of the Indian Service, all matters of case study, admittance and care were investigated, financed and followed through by the Mission staff. But at just about the time of Mr. Clark's arrival, there had been established officially such a "Welfare Branch of the Navajo Service", so that the responsibility for each of the sixty children under the care of the Mission was shared by the child welfare worker of that division. The Mission continued to be the place of security for all the children placed there, giving them a home to which they return from school, for vacations, and supplies their personal needs and clothing during the school year, and especially gives guidance by letters and by visits from staff members. For twenty pre-school children the Welfare Branch of Navajo Service now pays $40.00 per child per month to the Mission on the foster home-care basis upon which it operates such service to any needy child whose condition makes such help by a government agency necessary.

Until 1942, in connection with the orphanage, a school of eight grades was maintained. Children of the community and a few boarders from a distance attended this school, together with the orphan children in residence; this prevented the orphans from becoming a group entirely separated from others in the community. This lack of institutional segregation is characteristic of the long program of this Mission. When in 1942 the boarding school was abolished, the orphans of the Mission family, then twenty-five in number, were sent to government boarding schools in order that their school and living experiences would parallel those of other Navajo children. This change followed too, the long established principle of service at this Mission, that when government provides a service for the Navajo people, the church should support and endeavor to improve that service by its appeal to public opinion, rather than duplicate the service in order, as is often said, "that it may be done better." Whenever, there has arisen occasion for the pressure of public opinion to bring about improved conditions for the Navajos, this Mission has given aid, and by cooperating with all other agencies, it has promoted such advance, notably in 1947 at the time of the Navajo Institute in New York which began the movement to arouse American citizens to urge Congress to pass the "Navajo Rhabilitation Act".

Let us now consider for a moment the actual and official status of "Good Shepherd Mission" in relation to the District of Arizona as a whole, that is, as to its official name. To do this we must look back to its actual beginning as a "Hospital", all of which was duly recorded in previous chapters. Although its doors as a hospital were first opened in 1897, the first official mention of it occurred in the Journal of Convocation of 1899 where it was recorded in the List of Missions as a 'Hospital'. One year later the journal records it as an "Organized Mission" in distinction from un-organized Missions. This designation continued until the year 1932, in a report for 1931, when it appears, in the list of 'un-organized Missions'. Just what caused this demotion, as it were, does not appear, but the designation continues until in January of 1944 it once more became a regularly "Organized Mission of the Missionary District of Arizona", with the Rev. David W. Clark as 'Vicar', and with a formal 'Bishop's Committee' of seven members. The warden was James Damon, a mixed-blood farmer who lived with his enterprising and attractive family of boys and girls a mile or so from the Mission. Mr. Damon was, and we hope is still, a hearty supporter of the Mission. A man of no little education who appropriately accepted his prerogative as warden and read the lessons in the services in the beautiful Mission Chapel, and he could read them well and with fine expression. And let it be known that his four energetic and loyal sons joined the large group of native Navajos in the armed services during World War II.

Returning once more to our narrative, the active work of the Mission maintained close cooperation with the extension of the "Navajo Medical Center" at Fort Defiance. This project did not send doctors out to the various hogans except in emergencies, and rarely brought Indians in to the "center". This state of things was largely due to reluctant recognition of the strange Indian 'taboo' and superstition of the natives--(at least to many of them)--in regard to sickness and death, but which our Mission had long since constantly ignored, and had largely overcome, so now new opportunities arose to continue more effectively than ever to send out field workers into the areas near and far and to bring many sick or infirm Indians to the medical center. All such ministrations won the continued respect and regard of the government officials, and of the Navajo people themselves.

As to the children, Miss Ella Davis, together with a number of Navajo women, went on with their kindly oversight of them, and this with the spiritual shepherding of Mr. Clark and his special helpers, resulted in a great increase of baptisms and of confirmations. [63/64] Because so many of the grown up children, and other members of the Mission family, had married or moved away, it seemed most desirable to carry on a follow-up program to keep closer touch with them. To this project Miss Davis gave herself with definite results. All but the very youngest of the children were being sent for several years to the various government schools, and some to other Mission schools, but these would all return to Good Shepherd for four months in the summer. In 1945, there were fifty-seven of these, and to assist in their care, four "child care" specialists joined the summer staff. The year before five of the older boys had been released, but were not lost sight of. Two of them had joined the armed forces, and two girls had obtained permanent jobs, and one had gone to Lawton, Oklahoma to learn to become "nurse's aid" . . . six of the boys of high school age had gone to Fort Wingate for further training.

Meantime, Bishop Mitchell, having reached the age of retirement, although in excellent health, withdrew from Arizona, and with Mrs. Mitchell took up residence on the California coast. To take his place in Arizona came in 1945, the Rt. Rev. Arthur Barksdale Kinsolving II, D.D. a member of a large and influential church family. His father, the Rt. Rev. Lucien Lee Kinsolving, had been Missiunary Bishop of Brazil, where our present Bishop had been born. True to his name and his family traditions, he was a born Missionary, and at once took a hearty and active interest in "the Missionary District of Arizona". The Indian Missions appealed greatly to him and he soon began his regular visitations of the Good Shepherd Mission. The year of the Bishop's arrival, 1945, was one of the most constructive years in its history; thirty-five children were present all through the year. During eight months of the year the older ones continued to attend school elsewhere, and two of the girls entered nurse's training classes. During the summer several college students became helpers, as well as students in social service activities, helping to fit themselves for their life's work. This plan was enlarged the following year by cooperation with the "Division of Town and Country Work" of the National Council of the church, by establishing at the Mission the "Inter-cultural Rural Institute for Graduate Students", which was in operation for ten weeks every summer; twelve such students being in attendance at our Mission. This was not only of benefit to the students in their training, but very decidedly helped the Mission itself. As we have seen before, it had become the policy of the Mission to work in close cooperation with the U. S. Indian Service, in its "Department of Navajo Welfare", which granted the payment of $25.00 a month for each of fifteen children under the care of our Mission. Also the Mission became closely associated with the "Committee on Literacy for the Navajos" of the "Home Missions Council" of the Federal Council of Churches in the work of translation of parts of our prayer book into the Navajo language, which was continued under the leadership of Howard Mc Kinley. This committee also appointed a resident worker for the literacy work among the Navajos, with headquarters at the Mission.

The absence of 'institutional segregation' has been a characteristic of the long program of the Mission, as we have seen. So when in 1942, the boarding school had been abolished, the orphans of the Mission family were sent to government boarding schools in order that their school and living experiences would parallel those of other Navajo children.

In February, 1948, the Mission expanded its education program to include a nursery school for the pre-school group of twenty children who were assigned to the Mission on a foster-home-care basis by the then recently established Welfare Branch of the Navajo Service. Again the cooperation of the church and government, without dictation or interference of either with the other, was successful in maintaining this educational-social service to meet the need of a neglected group, and in demonstrating the value of a nursery school and kindergarten program for non-english speaking children.

In December of 1948 there came to the Mission, to take special charge of the difficult work at Saw Mill, Mrs. Ethel T. Swisher, of Phoenix. She had not had much, if any, experience with Indians, but she had had a most valuable experience for a number of years in the complicated and far from easy work of our church among Mexicans in and near Phoenix. In this she had been a special assistant to the Archdeacon in inaugurating and developing two Mexican Missions and this indicated something of the preparation of this new Missionary for the task at Saw Mill. Coming to that place in the dead of winter required heroism and devotion, and was a decidedly trying beginning of her year's work, which she carried on for one year.

Although the Mission reached and cared for directly many Indian children, yet there [64/65] remained many others whose young lives were spent in shepherding their fathers' sheep during a large part of the year. However, during spring and fall they were not so active, and for these almost destitute children, the Mission held out its hands and succeeded in having twenty of them brought in, twice a year, for care and instruction. Thus was started the "Shepherds' School", and it has become one of the most useful, and most appealing departments of the work.

To appreciate this new shcool in the fullest degree one should visit the Reservation in its more remote parts, and climbing up on some rock or rising ground, glance over the surrounding fields to find a flock of sheep grazing, and among them or near them, a mere child in somber clothing, but with perhaps a spot of bright color in a blouse or sweater. Nobody else is seen, but very likely a dog or two. It is a picturesque, but pathetic sight, and if one is familiar with Moffatt's translation of the Bible, Isaiah ii: 6, "herded by a little child", it makes one glad that there is now this little school. Although only a short-term educational device, it has met the need of Navajo children who cannot take part in the established school program, and brings them to American ways of Christian living. It has interested them and their family groups in the pleasures and benefits of school attendance and has had far-reaching influence in changing school attitudes and in developing the confidence of children and adults in the friendliness of the American way of life. And yet old Navajo values are prized and conserved as far as possible and helpful, as in fact they are in all the Mission enterprises. The teacher in charge of this enterprise is thoroughly trained in 'social anthropology' and in educational methods for teaching non-english speaking children and adults also. Her associate is a Navajo woman. After many years of consecrated service, Miss Davis retired and went to live in Gallup, but often visits the Mission.

In the fall of 1952, a term of this school was held in a remote area one hundred miles from the Mission, and in this situation more adults were reached than is possible in the residence school and their enthusiasm was as great as the childrens'. This illustrates a principle of operation which has effectively prevailed throughout the history of the Mission; that of the cooperation of the Navajo people in planning and supporting Mission enterprises. Another example of the endeavor to extend the horizon of the Navajo people, especially the residence group of children for whose education the Mission is responsible, has been the providing of scholarships for school children in schools removed from the Indian Service.

Back in 1950, Mr. Davis Given, a candidate for holy orders, had arrived as assistant to Mr. Clark, and was soon ordained to the diaconate, and in due time was advanced to the priesthood by Bishop Kinsolving. He has continued to give devoted and efficient service in this, his chosen field. During his first year there were one hundred and twenty-six baptisms. Fifteen of the grown up boys of the Mission were admitted into the armed forces of our country.

Most encouraging progress was made at this time at "Saw Mill" where a community house was built, in which, after holding meetings, clinics, parties and church services by lamplight for fifteen years, in the school house; at last electric lighting was installed. This was done through the efforts of the villagers, the U. S. Indian Service, volunteer eleotricians, and visitors who secured the necessary wire and contributed cash offerings. The organized work here, as patiently begun and carried on by Miss Cady was appropriatly called "St. Anne's Mission". Also at the coal mine station, where after fourteen years or more of holding services in a tiny house and in an old garage, permission was granted by the Navajo Council to erect a suitable building, a "community house", which was dedicated on July 10, 1952, as "St. Mark's Mission".

And now let us hear directly from the Rev. David Clark, the Superintendent for ten years, in a leaflet called "Progress Report", which was sent out to friends and supporters of the Mission.

"In the past ten years the church's ministry among the Navajo people has moved forward at Good Shepherd Mission with the cooperation of several thousand people to whom this "news letter" is sent. Because of your constant response to the extreme needs of the Navajo people your church has restored the plant of ten buildings to a useful center for its field program and a Mission home for orphans. One hundred thousand dollars have been expended on this restoration, and thirty-three thousand on the [65/66] Thorne building, which (after many years) is now two-thirds completed and in daily use. At outlying stations two community houses have been erected. Furnishings for all these buildings have been put in excellent condition.

Five workers now use personal cars, which, with a Mission-owned truck and a "suburban" (station wagon) have greatly extended the range of our ministry; with these increased facilities for travel, regular work has been established in six outlying areas. The staff of the Mission has grown from six in 1942 to twenty in 1952. Our family of orphan children has increased from twenty-five to sixty. The larger parish congregation of Good Shepherd Mission now numbers about a thousand baptized persons, with hundreds more affiliated in one way or another, and seeking to learn more about the kingdom of God among men. In the past ten years there have been 819 baptisms and 292 confirmations. The Navajo people are now participating in the organized life of the church. In 1942 there were ten members in the Woman's Auxiliary; now there are 75 members in four groups. There is a chapter of the Girls' Friendly Society, and a junior branch of the Brotherhood of St. Andrew.

In 1942 there were fifteen children in Sunday school; now there are four hundred enrolled in "Christian Education classes", with a full-time director of Christian Education on the staff. A Bishop's committee of seven members has been functioning for several years. The annual appropriation by the National Council for work at this Mission has been increased from $3000.00 in 1942 to $11,200.00 in 1952 . . . with a steadily increasing membership the congregation of Good Shepherd Misson has assumed a greater share in the Church's mission to others. In 1944 the combined quota and assessment totaled $63.00; for 1952 more than $1000.00 have been given for the general missionary work of the whole church. The only way in which the church can continue to bring the redemptive love of Christ into the lives of the Navajo people is through your contributed gifts for the support of Good Shepherd Mission, its field program and the Mission home."

Let us add to this revealing report a brief statement from Mrs. Clark:

"The rapid transition of the Navajo people from their old sheep-herding economy in to the stream of American life in off-reservation employment has added impetus to the church's evangelistic and educational program. For this program has been aimed to bring these Indian people into participation in American life, as Christian people who would still value their own cultural heritage and add it to the total American way of life."

These words well sum up the aim of the Good Shepherd Mission, as it is today, and as it has increasingly been in the days that are past, and must continue to be in the days now opening before us all.

In 1953, after ten years of devoted service, which may well be called "sacrificial years", Mr. Clark resigned to take up his labors in other fields, leaving "Good Shepherd" with the good wishes and God-Speed of his many friends.

To find his successor would have been a serious task, had it not been that, providentially, just such a person was already on hand. This was the Rev. Paul L. West, who at the time was serving as Assistant to Dean Carman at Trinity Cathedral in Phoenix. Mr. West was especially fitted for his new field of activity, for although he had only recently come into the ministry of the church, his previous career had been most unusual. Let us describe this, and the man himself, by quoting rather freely from an article in a local paper:

"Paul West is a reserved, kindly man, gifted with tremendous enthusiasm for his present calling. Born in Pueblo, Colorado, he entered politics early in life. For six years he was a deputy sheriff in Pueblo County, serving as chief deputy for most of that period. He later became a City Commissioner. He was also assistant manager, and tax manager for the Pueblo chamber.

[67] "In 1946 this man decided that life demanded more of him than he'd been giving. In chamber work and in politics, Paul West had often sought the answers to such questions as: what makes free enterprise work? Every answer, he says, led him back to the Christian church. The solution came to him as he dealt with human lives in his job on a World War II draft board. His place, he decided, was in the church. His ordination to the priesthood of the Episcopal Church was in 1948. He is completely humble about his mission. He's not out to save or reform the world, but merely to do the best job he can as an instrument of his God . . . He's just an intelligent, sympathetic human being, a wonderful man to talk to, and a friend to anyone with a problem."

All that has been said of Mr. West, and much more, well fitted him for meeting the peculiar problems that have always existed at Good Shepherd Mission, problems of administration and contacts and of dealing with individual personalities; and fitted him also for the untold opportunities for personal Christian touch and influence, not only among the members of the Mission but also among many who are outside in the surrounding areas. Mrs. West, was far from well, but was beloved by all.

In view of all this, it was a matter of profound regret that early in March 1954, he was obliged to resign from the Mission and to move to the milder climate of Phoenix and its vicinity. This was on account of the health of Mrs. West, and somewhat of his own, which the climate and altitude of the Fort Defiance region had seriously affected. There was of course universal sorrow that these fine Missionaries had to leave the Navajo field, after only one year of devoted service. During that memorable year, there was splendid growth and progress in program, in the staff of workers, in greatly needed improvements, as well as in prospects for the days to come. With a gift of $25,000.00 from the National Council, a new oil-burning furnace and a new electric generator were installed. A larger water line was brought into the Mission grounds to provide enough pressure for a regulation fire hydrant, long needed for protection. (Shades of Miss Thackara and the days of wood stoves and oil lamps and little water!) Also a gift of $15,000.00 from the United Thank Offering made possible the completion of the Thorne Building, which for some time had been in only partial use. A fine recreation hall was thus made possible, and also a community laundry. From individual gifts of friends, there could now be a movie projector, so that the Mission family would no longer be obliged to go every week to the fort school for such entertainment.

In addition to all these improvements and additions, Mr. West, before his departure, was able to announce that the "Arthur Vining Davis Foundation" had granted $250,000.00 for the construction of a new and larger and more convenient Chapel and clergy residence. The old Chapel, so filled with sacred memories and associations in the beginning and long development of Good Shepherd Mission, had become quite too small and unfitted for its present use, and because it had been built on partly filled-in land, was never entirely safe, as the occasionally cracking walls had testified more than once. However, its sanctuary was to be preserved and made into an out-door Chapel, still to remain as a memorial to its donors and to many friends and supporters of the Mission. Plans for the new Chapel, to follow in a certain way the native Navajo artistry, were made by Mr. John G. Meem, of Santa Fe, whose father had been a Missionary in Brazil under Bishop Kinsolving's father, the Bishop of Southern Brazil.

Work was begun on the chapel in the fall of 1954, and the Bishop laid the corner stone of the partly completed building in January 1955. The first service was held on Maundy Thursday, April 7th. It was most gratifying to have also, the Good Friday and Easter services in the new chapel.

As to Mr. West, Bishop Kinsolving sent him to Scottsdale, a near suburb of Phoenix, to organize and develop a new Mission there, where there were a number of church folk, and others outside, who gladly responded to his efforts. Very appropriately to the general surrounding area, but not to Scottsdale itself, this new Mission is "Saint Barnabas on the Desert".

Mr. West was succeded, as Superintendent of Good Shepherd Mission, by the Rev. Davis Given, who for several years had been the Assistant Superintendent, first of Mr. Clark and then of Mr. West, and whose experience and personality well fitted him for his new responsibilities. Also, as business manager, there came from the near-by town of Holbrook, [67/68] Mr. John Howell, who for some years had been senior warden of St. George's Mission in that community.

At this time word came from the Bishop, that the Navajo Tribal Council had voted to divide a 'Welfare Fund', they had raised, among four Christian Missions in the county, including our Good Shepherd Mission. This recognition on the part of the Indians themselves was a wonderful evidence of their progress along the higher lines, and of a sincere appreciation of our Christian work and influence.

So far I have neglected to mention a most important advance in the far-reaching influence and contacts of the Mission: and this is the opening up of meetings and services at the coal mine, not many miles distant to the east. By using a schoolhouse and other temporary, but not too convenient buildings or houses, a Sunday school was started and continued, together with certain services, in spite of difficulties. At last, however, in 1952, "St. Mark's Mission" was definitely organized, and soon another "U.T.O." worker was placed in charge. I do not know the exact date of Miss Jean Baxter's coming, but I understand that she has resigned, and I presume that another will be appointed before long.

[69] I began this 'story' a number of years ago, because I had a deep personal interest in the Mission. My chief sources of information were a stack of old letters sent to me, at my request, by the then secretary of the famous "Westchester Branch of the W. A." in the New York area, and also some reports and letters from the "Indian Rights Association". These I have referred to at the very beginning of this narrative. Added to these were my own personal memories of my contacts with the Mission and my close associations with members of the 'family' during my frequent visits as Archdeacon and friend.

After I had made a good start in my undertaking, certain difficulties arose and events transpired that made it impossible to continue until a year or two ago, when I made a fresh start. And even since then there have come interruptions which have slowed down my efforts. In the meantime many events have occured at the Mission, and there have been changes in the personnel, so that my attempts to bring the story up to date have been most unsatisfactory. The result of all this has been that I have doubtless omitted the names of some important workers and may have overlooked some significant events, and for this I hope to be pardoned by all who may have been thus concerned.

It has been said that "history is the record of human progress". We can readily understand how this definition accords with the history of the whole world; but it would seem also to apply to the story of every part of the world; of every nation and race and tribe, as

"Step by step since time began,
We see the steady gain of man."

May we not say that this applies to every important institution or organized project of human interest? If so, then it certainly applies to "The Good Shepherd Mission" whose 'story' is here presented. For when we consider the heroic beginnings by Miss Thackara of "the Hospital of the Good Shepherd", some sixty years ago, and its development step by step to its present status, surely we have a vital witness to human progress, divinely directed and inspired.


On July 10, 1955 the new Chapel was consecrated by the Bishop of Arizona in the presence of the Bishop of Utah, the Bishop Coadjutor of New Mexico, Dr. William G. Wright, the Rev. Vine Deloria, the Superintendents of the San Juan Mission at Farmington, N. M., and St. Christopher's Mission, Bluff, Utah; also of the architect, Mr. John G. Meen, and the donor, Mr. Arthur Vining Davis. It was a splendid day, in a crowded chapel, with the three Bishops also joining in confirming a class of thirty from the congregation of the Mission, its outstations and preaching stations. From our first use of the new chapel to date, all have been deeply impressed with its beauty, the fine feeling of proportion and texture of beautiful local materials, and the wonderful way in which it seems to fit into this country, and be fitted to this people. The old chapel which served for forty-seven years is commemorated by a tablet in the narthex of the new chapel, and by remaining walls of its sanctuary and nave, which now form an out-door shrine.

This fall we are starting with a full house at the Mission. As throughout the year, there are twenty pre-school children living here; homeless children aged from just under two years to nearly six years old. They are placed here by the branch of welfare of the U.S. Indian Service, and we are partly re-imbursed by contract for their care. But this winter there are twenty-two boys and girls from our own congregations ranging from eight years to sixteen years old, living in our dormitories and attending the public school near by, which was completed last January. (This school, belongs to the Arizona public school system, and is for both Indian and white children.)

These young people return to their own homes in the summer and we hope that they will be with us during the school years until they finish high school, as the neighboring school is to be in time the first public high school on the reservation. With this group we have a wonderful opportunity to have a group of our own people grow up in the knowledge of their church and in the practice of their religion. They are given the chance to be at our daily service of Evening Prayer, at which the older boys take turns in officiating and reading the lessons, and to be often at the Holy Communion. Also the boys assist as interpreters for services at our out-stations and preaching stations. In the summer our dormitories continue to be used for school-age boys and girls placed here by the Indian Service of welfare, for whose care we are partly reimbursed by the government. These children attend the government boarding schools in the winter.

The church-centered program for children of our own congregation, with the accompanying opportunity to develop Christian leadership, gives us our greatest chance to make effective Christian impact upon the Navajo community whose adults will never find a real religious experience apart from their native religion, and whose children will never find a real religious experience in their Navajo religion.

The care of all these children involves the whole staff, and all the members share in the teaching of many classes as well as in the many group activities. Here then are the members of this devoted staff:

Mr. John R. Howell, Jr.--business manager and all that involves, who also serves as lay reader.

Deaconess Marian Brown--resident worker at St. Anne's Saw Mill and director of Christian Education (she has been at the Mission for nine years.)

Miss Martha Webb--who was another "gift from Alaska", is resident worker at St. Marks Mission at Coal Mine.

Mrs. Margaret Harris--is director of child care and of the kitchen and the housekeeping.

Mrs. Ruby Bates--is in charge of the nursery school and the preschool children all the year-round.

Mrs. Christine Best--is housemother in the boys' dormitory.

Deaconess Pauline Watts--is housemother in the pre-school dormitory.

Miss Florence Wilkins--is girls' housemother in the girls' dormitory.

Assisting this supervisory staff throughout the program are the fine Navajo members of the Mission family:

The head cook with her two helpers -
The engineer and his assistant -
Two assistant pre-school housemothers -
The nursery school teacher's' assistant -
The secretary--the laundress--the housekeeper -

"A wonderful staff, and with so much to be done."

The Woman's Auxiliary to the National Council has enabled us to make certain additions to the two out-stations, which will greatly increase their efficiency and usefulness. With the help of our Bishop and a most generous donor, a bus is at last on its way to transport people to services and to activities, and children to classes.

After mentioning several needs of the Mission, for its immediate welfare, Mr. Given tells joyfully of certain special gifts which have helped in time of need, and the fortunate increase in the annual appropriations from the National Council. Then follows a brief summary of receipts and expenditures to date. Finally at the close of his report he presents a most fitting 'peroration', and with this I will also bring this "supplement" to its close.

"This is the barest of outlines of the life of a Mission which is as rich and varied as the sum of all the lives of the people and children of this extended Mission Family. We are always ready to answer any inquiry. We are always eager to welcome any who can manage to come to see for themselves. We are conscious of the privilage it is to be living here, of the opportunity given to us all to touch many lives, of our responsibility to young and old who look to this church for a meaningful ministry, and that in the end it is God himself who deigns to use what little we can bring to this ministry."


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