In the spring of 1881, as nearly as I can remember, I was passing through the community in which Pleasant Hill Church now stands. A gentleman, Mr. Geo. Ford, accosted me and asked me if I would stop and preach a funeral. I told him yes. It was in the afternoon. I preached and after the sermon he asked me if I could not come again the next Sunday afternoon and I said, yes, again. Thus the work began. For a few times we held the meetings at private houses, but finally moved the place of meeting to the top of the hill, near the Pleasant Hill burying ground. We held the services under some large trees for awhile. Toward the end of the summer we built a house and before the winter had come on fully we were worshiping in a very comfortable house.The community which for many years had been considered ungodly, was really transformed by the power of the gospel of Christ. Hunting and fishing and any kind of manual labor were engaged in on the Sabbath day. There were several followers of infidelity. They were certainly well posted on their views. They frequently opposed me in my gospel ministrations, but usually listened to me when I began to preach. They had much to say in regard to "the mistakes of Moses," following the infidel's line of thought. The preacher had much to say about the perfection of Jesus the Christ. The sins of men and the sacrifice for sin were continually held before them. The love of God for sinners and his hatred for sin; the person, the character, the teaching of Jesus the Nazarene, his ability to save and his willingness, were all kept before them. God was pleased to convert some of them and use them for the advancement of His cause.
There were also a few desperate young men in the community. They drank and fought among themselves, but they were especially pugnacious toward the residents of another community. Somebody was almost sure to be killed when the two communities
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came together. Some of them once threatened to ride the preacher on a rail; he told them that he would have to ride free if he rode at all, for he had no money. Some of the good people were afraid that the preacher would be waylaid and killed; the answer came back that he was going to preach or fall with his head toward the church. I think every one of these were converted. Two at least of the number have crossed over the river and are now at rest with the Lord they once reviled. One, I know, still lives and labors for the Master.In regard to building the house of worship, I may add, never did a people work more earnestly than they did when once they had put their hands to the work. There are two cases that were remarkable in the church there. The first was the case of Brother George Weldy. His name ought to be preserved in history. Brother Weldy lived in a neighborhood that was grossly wicked and yet he was a very upright man. Often men would refer to Weldy as an outsider and say he was as good as any member of the church. Shortly after we began to preach at Pleasant Hill he came forward one day to unite with the church. He told practically this story: "Twenty-five years ago I was attending a meeting at Salem, in Ralls county. Under the preaching I felt myself to be a sinner. I prayed God to forgive me and I felt a peace that I cannot describe. I went home hardly knowing what to do. I did not know whether it was conversion or not, and yet I kept up praying. I did not feel like carousing as I had done before. There was a peace that I had never known. I had an earnest desire to do good and be good. Soon after this the war came on and I joined the army. I tried to do mv duty to my God and my country as I saw it. I went through the war trying to keep a good conscience. Sometimes the hope I had would be brighter and sometimes weaker, but there never was a time when I would have parted with it for all the world. I am still trusting Jesus Christ and hope to till I die. My life is so unworthy
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that I hardly dare to ask a place among His children, and yet I want to be with them. Weldy was elected a Captain soon after he went into the service. His fellow soldiers said that he was one of the bright lights in the army. His life amidst the surroundings was like a light in a dark place, or like a beautiful lily growing in the marshes.The other case was Brother George C. Jeffries. Jeffries was a bachelor. Perhaps fifty years of age at the time of which I write. He was lame in both feet. Very large and, to most of us he seemed, almost helpless. He had to use crutches and moving around was a hardship to him. He moved, however. George Jeffries had been a Christian for several years before he began the work at Pleasant Hill. He went into the organization of the church. He was a noble man of God; pure in heart and zealous in the work of the Master. Two brief incidents in his life will suffice to show the character of the man. He asked the Pastor one day what he could do for the Lord. A suggestion was made that he could get some tracts and distribute them with judgment among the people, especially the children. Immediately he sent for some tracts that would be useful in pointing sinners to Christ. Then he sent for some small Testaments. These he distributed with his own hands. He had no buggy, he could not ride horseback, so he harnessed up the horses to the wagon and drove from house to house giving away the little Testaments. One day he met a little girl to whom he had given a Testament and stopped to ask her if she had read it. She stood for a moment and looked at him and then as the tears came to her eyes she said, ''Papa burned it up." Uncle George said, "Well, I'll give you another one and I don't think it would be wrong to keep the next one hid from your papa." Year in and year out Uncle George drove around in his two-horse wagon. He climbed in and out as best he could, he hobbled around on his crutches and he was a blessing to the community. I think he led many precious souls to Christ.
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The second incident in his life was a very touching one. When the house was to be built Uncle George, who was not very wealthy, gave very liberally. He gave so cheerfully of his means to build that it was a pleasure to see him take from his hard-earned store, and withal so small, the money for the house of God. One day as we were going through the community and turned aside to see how the building was progressing we saw a sight that might have moved the heart of the hardest. Uncle George had tried to get some one to dig out the rest of the foundation, which had been begun. He was so anxious to have the house up and enclosed before the weather got bad. When he could find no one to do the work he hobbled down into the trench and began digging himself. For a time he was unconscious of our presence and digged away as if his life depended on his digging. I don't know how he could dig under the circumstances, but he did. There were many noble men and women in that church at that time, but most of them have crossed the flood.========= [From Wiley Jones Patrick, editor, History of the Churches of the Salt River Baptist Association, Missouri, 1909, pp. 301-304. From Google Books On-line. Scanned and formatted by Jim Duvall.]
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