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His Father’S Son: Book I – He Wore a Clerical Collar
His Father’S Son: Book I – He Wore a Clerical Collar
His Father’S Son: Book I – He Wore a Clerical Collar
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His Father’S Son: Book I – He Wore a Clerical Collar

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In researching the early life of my maternal grandfather, Julius Ludwig Frederick Becker, Jr., I learned of people and events from the prior generation that I felt had to be incorporated into the book. The story line had to be revised. The result is evident in the books title, His Fathers Son. What I also learned was that my maternal great-grandfather was an influential figure throughout my grandfathers life.

It was evident that this biographical endeavor was too much for a single volume; hence, a trilogy. This first volume is subtitled, Part 1 He Wore A Clerical Collar.

The second volume (in preparation) is subtitled, Part 2 He Wore A Khaki Collar. It features his life as a rancher in Inyo County, CA, the area of his first parish assignment and the home of the young woman who became his wife. The third volume will be subtitled Part 3 He Wears A White Collar. This volume will review life throughout his third career in Southern California.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateJun 22, 2015
ISBN9781504916523
His Father’S Son: Book I – He Wore a Clerical Collar
Author

Bernard C. Baumbach

Bernard C. Baumbach was born in Anaheim, California, in 1925. His collegiate education is certified by a BA degree (Capital University, Columbus, Ohio) and the MA and the PhD degrees (the University of Texas at Austin). His academic career spanned forty years at Texas Lutheran University in Seguin, Texas. He retired in 1990 as professor emeritus of sociology. In 1992, Ed Gotthardt, then mayor of the city of Seguin, asked him to structure a plan for a senior citizen center for Seguin and Guadalupe County. The Silver Center and the Silver Urn (coffee shop) were in operation in less than five years. In December of 2002, he and his wife, Dorothy, moved to Sun City in Georgetown, Texas.

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    His Father’S Son - Bernard C. Baumbach

    AuthorHouse™

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 1 (800) 839-8640

    © 2015 Bernard C. Baumbach. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse   06/17/2015

    ISBN: 978-1-5049-1651-6 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-5049-1652-3 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2015908913

    Print information available on the last page.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Table of Contents

    Foreword

    Addendum

    Chapter 1 -     Confronting Reality

    Chapter 2 -     Conquering Conflict With Love

    Chapter 3 -     Triumphs—One, Two, And Three

    Chapter 4 -     Sorrow & Joy Come To The Family

    Chapter 5 -     Tutorial Interlude

    Chapter 6 -     Tragedy Strikes Again

    Chapter 7 -     Preparing For Familial Disruption

    Chapter 8 -     Dreams Aren’t Self-Fulfilling

    Chapter 9 -     Back To Square One

    Chapter 10 -   Transitioning Toward Restructuring

    Chapter 11 -   Changes In The Lives Of Everyone

    Chapter 12 -   Affirming The Call

    Chapter 13 -   Restructuring Family Life

    Chapter 14 -   Alle Anfang Ist Schwer

    Chapter 15 -   Achievements: Father & Son

    Chapter 16 -   Preparing A Place For A Pastor

    Chapter 17 -   Go West, Young Man!

    Chapter 18 -   The Pastoral Work Begins

    Chapter 19 -   Redefining ‘Congregation’

    Chapter 20 -   A Schedule Devoid Of Certainty

    Chapter 21 -   Religious Training/Cultural Change

    Chapter 22 -   A Long, Long Over-Due, Letter Home

    Chapter 23 -   Does The Mission Board Know?

    Chapter 24 -   Another Reason To Write Home

    Chapter 25 -   Ministerial Activity In Nevada

    Chapter 26 -   Desperation Procedure

    Chapter 27 -   Was There Any Doubt?

    Chapter 28 -   Betrothal-But With An Incident

    Chapter 29 -   Mission Accomplished

    Chapter 30 -   The Beginning Of The End

    Chapter 31 -   The Family Continues To Grow

    Chapter 32 -   Another Becker Tragedy

    Chapter 33 -   A Doxology Reluctantly Proclaimed

    Chapter 34 -   An Essential Return To Square One

    Appendix I - Pastoral Activity

    Appendix II - Newspaper Announcements

    LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

    1. - Julius L. F. Becker, The Father

    (When single in Pösen, West Prussia, circa 1865)

    2. - Julius L. F. Becker, Sr. & Jr., Father and Son

    (Pösen, West Prussia, circa 1879)

    3. - Concordia Lutheran Seminary Class

    (Julius Becker, Jr.: 3rd row, 3rd from right, 1888)

    4. - Magdalena Ehlen

    (circa 1891 when she was 18 years of age)

    5. - Rev. Julius L. F. Becker, Jr.

    (Recently ordained at 26 years of age, 1891)

    6. - Lena’s & Julius’s Wedding Invitation

    (September 17, 1894)

    7. - Bridal Couple – Julius & Lena

    (circa September 17, 1894)

    8. - Interior of Detroit Church

    (circa 1896-98 Designed/Built by Father, J.L.F. Becker, Sr.)

    9. - Trinity Lutheran Church, LCMS, Gardnerville, NV

    (circa 1896-97)

    1-1865%2b%20Julius%20Becker%20Sr.JPG

    Julius L. F. Becker, The Father

    (When single in Pösen, West Prussia, circa 1865)

    Foreword

    Genealogy is an exciting, but demanding, undertaking. As the de facto genealogist for the kinship system whose patriarch was the Rev. Dr. Julius Ludwig Frederick Becker, Jr., I found that the structuring of family trees—which I have attempted to keep up to date—to be less than satisfying. Who begat Whom was interesting, but inquiring into the life and times of those listed has provided insights into their personalities; has brought to life, in the absence of complete biographical data, that which might very well have been their various individual experiences.

    The combination of family memorabilia (such as letters, newspaper articles, pictures and photographs, church documents, a variety of heirloom objects, U.S. Census data, legal documents, county plats, hand-written sermons, privately published circulars, internment records, vital statistic records) and the vocalization of family folklore from various—and often contradictory—sources has provided an abundance of material from which to structure a fictionalized biography.

    Hence, the reader is forewarned that most of the events that comprise this book may not have happened in the manner as herein presented. The basic structure of its content nevertheless rests upon generally accepted, if not factually verifiable, experiences and remembrances. It has been my pleasure to speculate as to how the various events herein reported on were actually carried out even with little more than a smidgeon of suggestive evidence.

    As promoted, this is Book 1 of a trilogy. Grandpa’s three careers directed his activity that he implemented in a manner that affirmed his integrity. This book presents his life as a Lutheran minister. Book 2 views his life as a farmer/rancher after he was defrocked. Book 3 follows him into Los Angeles County where he had a rewarding career as a Swedish Masseur.

    Addendum

    Things like this happen. I had completed my final editing of this book and had arranged to forward the manuscript to AuthorHouse. During a lull, I decided to look over some letters and pictures that I had recently received that would be worked into Book 2 – He Wore A Khaki Collar. To my dismay I uncovered a couple of letters and a picture that gave evidence that I had misrepresented a significant part of the Becker family’s early years in Detroit. It was sad discovery, but it was too late for a revision.

    Given the fact that the entire trilogy constitutes a fictionalized biography, I humbly ask for the reader’s understanding that throughout all three books the stories told, although primarily based on the actual experiences of actual people, nevertheless are not presented as historical fact. Rather, in the absence of critical and necessary material, the stories seek to recreate those real-life situations as they might have transpired. Who knows? It may well be that the stories told herein are just as representative of the reality of those lives as would be if this were a historically accurate biography.

    Chapter 1

    Confronting Reality

    Julius adjusted his scarf. His coat and gloves seemed scarcely adequate against the biting wind. He pulled his scarf above his nose and pressed his karakul cap down to protect his forehead. It was only mid-November of 1865, but the children in Pösen, West Prussia were already excited at the prospects their parents had provided, suggesting that the weather ahead promised a blanket of snow. But the images of sledding or engaging in a mock battle with snowballs hurled from behind an icy barricade had not disturbed Julius’s train of thought as he leaned into the wintry blasts. He had been walking for about fifteen minutes, but he was still only a few blocks from his home. He was pursuing a route different from that which his family generally followed on their weekly walk to the synagogue. Here lately, however, it was the family without Julius. It all started around the second Sabbath following Yom Kippur. It was then, in spite of the admonitions of his father and mother, that Julius stopped attending services all together. He told his parents that he had been assigned an important project at work and, that for the time being, it would require his full attention even over the Sabbath and on Sunday.

    But today’s route to the synagogue was different for two reasons. The first was that the early winter storm provoked him to devise a route that would provide a route where the shops and the apartment buildings served as buffers against the chilling wind. It was only at times like this that he was thankful for the exceedingly narrow streets of the ghetto. He had chosen to walk extra blocks on streets that ran east-to-west in order to minimize his time on those that ran north-to-south which, on that day, seemed to be corridors for channeling the bitter wind off the distant North Sea. A person of lesser resolve would have returned home rather than endure the frightful cold of this unexpectedly early feature of what would prove to be a long, dreary winter. The other reason why this walk was so different was because, in all probability for the first time since he was preparing for his bar Mitzvah, he was not going to the synagogue to worship.

    Julius did reflect briefly upon the prediction of an early snow, but his childhood years of delight in playing in the snow were long gone. He had not been a schoolboy for more than a decade. He had completed his public school education at the legally set of age of thirteen years. His father had arranged for him to become an apprentice in a pottery shop owned and operated by an uncle whom Julius fondly called ‘Onkel Jacob.’ His father’s tailor shop really didn’t have a place for Julius and—this must have been a factor in his father’s planning—both his father and his mother secretly envisioned Julius’ future as a career in one of the professions where study at the university level would be required. They pictured Julius as an adult in a most ambitious manner—Our son, the lawyer; Our son, the architect; Our son, the doctor. But there was an interim in his life while he awaited his summons to compulsory military service. And so the apprenticeship in the pottery shop seemed to be an appropriate step in Julius’ life.

    Upon returning home after his military obligation, he sought and was awarded an apprenticeship in an architectural firm. After two years he began his formal study of architecture while continuing his association with that firm. It was his dream to form his own architectural group and dedicate his life to the design of magnificent buildings and to supervise their construction. But in order to accomplish that goal, he would first have to accumulate a sizeable amount of capital. He would have to acquire a location for his office, equip the facility, hire supportive personnel, and underwrite the costs of operation until the time when his firm could generate a steady flow of income-producing fees and commissions.

    His parents, more than eager to help him succeed, had determined they could best help him get started by subsidizing his living expenses. In that way he would be able save an even greater portion of his weekly earnings as an architectural apprentice. So it was for that reason he continued to live in his parents’ home above the tailor shop rent-free although all of his friends maintained their own apartments. Not to be overlooked was the fact that he would also continue to savor his mother’s kosher cooking each and every day.

    Julius was also fortunate in that his parents did not impose socially restricting requirements with this arrangement. He became accustomed to his mother’s sometimes indelicate inquires about his social activities and about his friends. But she wisely restrained herself in spite of the anxiety that burned within her. Julius was also wise enough to know why his parents were so solicitous about his outside associations. His parents had married at twenty-one and had started their family a little over a year later when Julius was born. There then followed, at approximately equal intervals, the births of four daughters. At this time in his life, the three oldest girls were married and busy with their children. Only the youngest girl was unmarried and still living at home. But she was recently betrothed but would not be smashing the nuptial glass until the year had passed.

    You know, Julius, family is very important. Sure, we want you to be a successful architect. But could you be truly happy with that if you couldn’t share your success with a loving wife?

    Yes, Momma, I’ve thought about that time and again. He stopped short of offering a response to her question that would actually satisfy her. But, unbeknown to his parents, for nearly two years his social life had become exhilarating for him beyond any expectation he might have harbored. However, he revealed none of this to his parents. He had turned twenty-six earlier that year and now in mid-November of 1865 he was planning to turn his life upside down. But first he would have to consult with his spiritual mentor, and that is why, in spite of the disagreeable weather and his now infrequent presence on the Sabbath, he was headed toward the synagogue.

    Julius! We didn’t expect you’d come in this weather. Put your wraps over there. Our stove is small, but there’ll be room for all of us. The day-by-day operations of the synagogue were tended to by Rabbi David who also served the congregation as its cantor. Julius actually didn’t know, but he guessed that Rabbi David was but a few years older than he was. Rabbi Baker will join us shortly. He’s dealing with a member’s account, but he shouldn’t be much longer.

    But I thought that my conference with Rabbi Baker would be, …ah, a private one.

    If that’s the way you’d like it; that can be arranged. But I warn you. Rabbi Baker’s office is not as warm as it is in here.

    I think that I’d prefer privacy to comfort in this matter. Julius had not even told his parents why he had requested a conference with their Rabbi. But they were happy that he was returning to the synagogue, even if it was not for Sabbath services. It had been a long while since he last worshipped there on a regular basis. They only knew that he had something on his mind and that he needed the Rabbi’s counsel. For them it could mean only one thing—Julius was thinking about getting married. In a subdued bedroom conversation the night before, they speculated that Julius wanted Rabbi Baker’s advice as to which girl in the congregation would be his best choice for a spouse.

    The door to Rabbi Baker’s office opened suddenly and an older, bearded gentleman with teary eyes quietly adjusted his yarmulke before stumbling through the outer office. He grunted an unintelligible acknowledgement of those in the outer office before he slammed the entry door behind him. Rabbi David attempted to convey some spiritually rewarding farewell, but the old gentleman’s departure was so explosive that it beclouded Rabbi David’s well-intentioned effort. Julius couldn’t recall the man’s name, but he remembered his face as one from the congregation whose bench was much closer to the Ark than the one that his father could afford.

    The walls were still vibrating from the bearded gentleman’s exit when Rabbi Baker appeared at the door to his study. Ah, Julius, it’s so good to see you again. I’ve missed you. It’s been a while.

    I know, Rabbi. And that’s why I want to see you.

    Come in. Rabbi David will see to it that we’re not disturbed—won’t you, Rabbi David? Rabbi Baker’s words were unmistakably authoritative; Rabbi Baker’s words so colored the final question that it was obvious that he did not expect a reply, but Rabbi David hastened to disappoint him.

    Oh! Rest assured, Rabbi Baker. No one will gain admittance until you open your door.

    Good! With that he directed Julius toward a chair beside his desk as he closed the door to his study. Now that our privacy is guaranteed, what is it that burdens your spirit this day, Julius?

    I’ll get right to the point, Rabbi. I want to get married.

    Oh, that’s a very good thing. I suppose you want my help to identify an eligible woman from our congregation.

    Julius twisted a bit in his chair when the Rabbi said woman. But he was twenty-six which meant, perhaps, that at his age social expectations were that he would marry a woman, not a girl.

    Not exactly! I need your help so I can tell my parents.

    What’s to tell? You want to get married. That’s the best news one’s parents can get until they hear, ‘my wife’s with child.’

    Perhaps we need to start over, Rabbi Baker. You see, I know whom I’m going to marry, but she’s not a member of this congregation. In fact, she’s Christian!

    She’s what? Oy-yoy-yoy! Rabbi Baker actually shrieked as he leaped from his comfortable chair, knocking over the small writing desk that was against the wall behind him. The door to the study flew open and Rabbi David inquired, Is every thing all right in here? I heard Rabbi Baker’s scream just before I heard a crash.

    I told you that we didn’t want to be disturbed, Rabbi Baker stated with more than a hint of irritation. He was standing with both hands, palms down, firmly planted upon his desk. He quickly regained his composure and added, Now close the door and tend to your duties.

    With the study door closed once again, Rabbi Baker wasted little time in returning to the issue at hand. Julius, do you understand the implications of what you’ve just told me? I anticipated that you wanted to see me about your marrying, so I looked up the record of your family and its relationship with this synagogue. The Becker family has held membership here for three generations in spite of several relocating disturbances our people have experienced here in West Prussia. Your family presents a most commendable record in this regard. And now you want to renounce that for the love of a shiksa?

    I understand your position, Rabbi Baker, but I take offense at you’re labeling the girl that I earnestly love a shiksa. Cornelia and I met at a gallery exhibition in town two years ago and we’ve been seeing each other regularly ever since. We just seem to have been made for each other. And yes, on a number of occasions I’ve attended Sunday services with her at an Evangelical church.

    But you know, Julius, intermarriage is not permitted among our people. That pretty much sums up your situation. You cannot do it,

    With all due respect, Rabbi Baker, it does, as you say, sum up my situation, but from the other direction. I’m going to marry Cornelia. I will resign from this synagogue. You know me as a spiritually sensitive person and so you know, although you may not understand, I will become a Christian. Cornelia and I have discussed it. The option of her becoming Jewish was totally unacceptable to her, to say nothing of the attitude of her parents. They, by the way, completely approve of me as a man and as the future husband of their daughter. All of this in spite of my religion. Cornelia loves me, in spite of my religion and I love her, in spite of her religion. But in order to gain her parents approval, I am compelled to renounce my religion and the religious heritage of my family. Resolving this impasse, Rabbi Baker, has not been easy. I am deeply tormented. I need your wisdom to help me through all of this.

    You presented your case most admirably, Julius. But, as I implied earlier, with respect to Ludwig and Rachel Becker, you will cease to exist in your parents’ eyes.

    I know! I know! It will be devastating to them. I’m their only son. And I don’t relish the fact that it’s I who’ll be rejecting them. They’ve sacrificed so much for me. They’ve invested their love to help me get to where I am today. But that’s why I’ve come to you. You’re the most compassionate person I’ve ever known and so I’m hoping that you’ll help me so that the hurt that my intended marriage will cause will be somewhat bearable. I know that the Torah prohibits intermarriage, but can Yahweh truly prohibit a relationship that is built upon true love?

    Rabbi Baker leaned back in his chair. He tilted his head toward heaven, his eyes were closed as if in meditation, and his restless hands clinched each other before the grasp opened and he began to stroke his beard. His mouth opened speechlessly before closing into a broad smile. As his head came forward, his eyes opened briefly, and from his mouth came forth a flow of Hebrew, apparently a prayer for forgiveness, for compassion, or for wisdom. In his preparation for bar Mitzvah, Julius had learned enough Hebrew to participate meaningfully in the worship service at the synagogue and in his family rituals at mealtime. But he looked at Rabbi Baker quizzically because what he had just heard were not familiar phrases—but surprisingly Julius found the words and their intonation quite comforting.

    Julius, you have put your future into my hands. Therefore I offer you the following proposal which just might, the Lord be praised, soften the rough edges of what you are about to undertake. This is what I think you should do. With that, he took a piece of paper from the still-upturned writing desk and, with a pen and ink from his own desk, he began to write out instructions which, if Julius and Cornelia would follow, might salvage an otherwise disastrous situation and lead to a wedding that might become a much happier event.

    Chapter 2

    Conquering Conflict With Love

    Cornelia was waiting for him at the small café where she and Julius regularly met for a light supper and a long conversation each Sunday evening. During the spring and summer months, weather permitting, they would picnic in the park and engage in discrete expressions of their affection for each other. It was earlier that year, just after Easter, that Cornelia had introduced a very nervous Julius to her family. It began with Julius agreeing to attend church services with Cornelia and the Schwartzkoph family. Cornelia had assured him that he would then be invited to have Sunday dinner with them. He was pleasantly surprised by the acceptance he immediately experienced in the Schwartzkoph home. He was put at ease inasmuch as Cornelia’s parents, Wilhelm and Hiltrude, expressed interest in his work and his proposed career. He did not totally relax until the meal was over and her parents had yet to express any curiosity regarding his family. It was almost as if they didn’t know that he was Jewish—but they did and that’s why there were no questions about it. Julius was pleased that he did not have to explain anything about his religious heritage. Cornelia was pleased that her parents seemed to favor Julius from the moment of their first introductions earlier that day in the vestibule of St. Peter & St. Paul Evangelical Church This arrangement with the Schwartzkoph family continued as a monthly alteration in their regular Sunday schedule throughout the balance of the spring and on through the summer months.

    Cornelia worked as a clerk in a dress and millinery shop and so Sunday was her only free day. Her meeting with Julius on Sunday afternoons and evenings was also an accommodation to the religious constraints that Julius experienced on Friday evenings and Saturdays, a schedule that Julius, ever so cautiously, ever so randomly, had abandoned. All that Ludwig and Rachel Becker knew was that, beginning earlier that year, Julius would leave their upstairs apartment on Sunday morning once each month. On the other Sundays he would leave in the afternoon or early evening. Julius had become slyly adept at suggesting his involvement in social gatherings that included persons who were also aspiring architects. As far as Ludwig and Rachel knew, he was out with his friends and potential colleagues, so they wisely, yet reluctantly, left it at that.

    The weather had moderated a bit from the blustering winds of a few days earlier when Julius had visited Rabbi Baker. It had warmed up a little, but not enough to forego the wearing of a winter coat, scarf, gloves, and a karakul cap. Julius had long since ceased wearing his yarmulke. However, in deference to his parents, he donned it during the Sabbath and as part of Jewish holy days celebrated in the home. The initial provocation to leave his yarmulke at home came from the Jewish partners of the architectural firm who voiced a business concern to the effect that because of the diversity of their clientele, they no longer wore their kippahs while working and they asked Julius to follow their example.

    Oh, Julius! You look so pleased. It went well, didn’t it? I just got here, but Victor held our table. He said that regulars like us shouldn’t have to sit in a cold vestibule waiting to be seated. Let’s order and then we can begin to plan our wedding.

    Julius signaled for Victor’s attention and he was at their table before Julius could tell Cornelia that Victor was on his way.

    Good evening, my little lovebirds. Any change from your Sunday night usual?

    Yes, Victor! We’ve got some serious planning to do so we’ll need the table for a bit more time tonight. Will that cause any problems?

    No. Apparently the weather has kept quite a few patrons at home. Besides, our Sunday rush is generally over the noon hour. You know the after-church crowd. But you came here to eat, so what will it be? I’m ready for a surprise.

    Victor, we have some notes to go over, so we need something that we can eat without having to think about what to do next. What do you think, Cornelia? Wouldn’t a bowl of stew be about right? You know, Victor, perhaps some Eintoph.

    I agree. Cornelia’s response was pleasantly decisive.

    What about the wine?

    "Let’s stay with the tried and true, Victor. And you can bring

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