A Missionary Life -- Biography of Rev. J. Wesley Day

Date: [unknown] [unknown]
Location: China, Malaysia, Indonesia
Surname/tag: Day

A Missionary Life

Contents 1 Introduction 2 Autobiography of J. Wesley Day 2.1 1918: The Call 2.2 1931: Kalgan, China 2.3 1939: The War Years 2.4 1947: Return to China 2.5 1950: The Communists 2.6 1952: Teluk Anson, Malaya 2.7 1955: Palembang, Indonesia 2.8 1961: Bandar Lampung, Indonesia 2.9 1965: Medan, Indonesia 2.10 1975: Retirement 3 2005: Completion. By Jackson H. Day

Introduction

Wesley Day began his missionary career in China in the 1930's, returning to China after the war from 1947-1951. After several years in Malaysia, he completed his career in Sumatra, Indonesia. Though he retired in 1975, he found a way to return several more times, and even returned to the site of his last work in China, in Chengdu, Sichuan. He has written his Autobiography which appears on this site.

With additions, Wesley Day's Biography is presented in four sections:

• Genealogical Record: Jackson Wesley Day
• Autobiography: Space: A Missionary Life -- Biography of Rev. J. Wesley Day
• "Sidetrips" written by himself: Space: A Missionary Life -- Sidetrips
• "Scrapbook" written by others about his life: Space: A Missionary Life -- Scrapbook

To us, he is also our father, and we, Rev. Jackson H. Day and Vivia Day Tatum, now present this biography in his honor. In addition to the autobiography, we've added various "sidetrips" in his own words, and "scrapbooks" in ours. And we present, below, a photo essay covering his life span:

1910

1934

1935

1947

1967

1980

1987

1998

2003

After a serious fall on April 5th, 2005, Wesley Day died in Lakewood, New Jersey, on June 5, 2005. A Service of Death and Resurrection was celebrated at 11 AM, Saturday June 11th, 2005, at St. Paul's United Methodist Church, Ocean Grove, New Jersey.

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Autobiography of J. Wesley Day

1918: The Call

I was born on a farm in Maryland August 24, 1910, but grew up in a suburban Methodist parsonage at Inwood, Long Island, New York, where my father Roby Franklin Day, pastored St. Paul's Church from 1910 till his retirement in 1945. My father was son and grandson of Methodist Protestant farmer-preachers in Maryland.

"Mendelssohn Terrace", the home place built by Professor George W. W. Walker in Browningsville, Maryland where Wesley Day was born.

In our home we had family prayers, and Dad often prayed that at least one of his sons would be called to the ministry. His youngest, I never thought seriously of anything else. At the age of eight I went forward during Evangelistic services held at the Inwood Church. Shortly thereafter, on April 20, 1919, I was received into the membership of St. Paul's.

Scrapbook: Family Album

Sidetrip: Dunroven

Sidetrip: Dairy

Sidetrip: My Favorite Teacher

From 1925 to 1930 Dad was elected annually President of the Eastern Conference.

In college my life plan was clear. I would teach two years after graduation to pay off my college debts, then go to the seminary to prepare for the ministry. In college I went through the period of questioning and doubt not uncommon to college students. What is the meaning of life? What is my place? In private hill-top devotions in my Junior year I decided that Jesus' words were meant for me: (Mark 8:35) "For whoever would save his life will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it." I decided that I would throw my life away for the people, and causes for which Jesus gave His life. I loved science and its experiments. I would make my life an experiment to see whether what Jesus said was true. (I am now 84 and can make my report: It is true!)

Sidetrip:Martyrdom Missed: Western Maryland College, 1930

1931: Kalgan, China

Methodist missionaries on furlough invited me to join them for a couple of years as a teacher in our school, Kalgan (in Chinese "Shang Zhia Kou"), China. What better preparation could there be for a pastor of a mission-minded American church? So I went out in 1932. But I did not come home after two years. Forty-two years later I was retired.

Methodist Protestant Eastern Conference leaders agreed to raise my support but proposed I go to Seminary one year while they raised the money. During this time a man in Indiana offered to support a missionary, and agreed to support me. I studied at the Oberlin (Ohio) Graduate School of Theology, where I had Chinese and Japanese classmates. I served on the Oberlin-Shansi Student Committee, which chose two graduating Seniors to teach in China.

Side Trip: Arrival in China

I spent the 1931 school year at the "College of Chinese Studies" (Language School) in Beijing. The school boasted they could teach anybody Chinese - and they made good.

A new language means a new name; J. W. Day becomes Dai Ray Wan. This name stamp, stamped in many of Wesley's books of the period, was copied from the front page of one of his Oberlin texts: Buddhism in India, Ceylon, China and Japan.

Near disaster struck me in '33 when a streptococcus arm infection put me in the hospital one month. Then shortly after, I was in the hospital another month with the dreaded typhus. This was before the advent of antibiotics. The hospital was the Rockefeller-supported Peking Union Medical College. Thank you, Mr. Rockefeller! And thank you to the people in China and America who prayed for my recovery.

After the illness

Even then, illnesses cost money!

In Kalgan I taught English and was Adviser to our Boys' and Girls School and made a number of country trips, with the Williams as senior advisers, and Chinese coworkers to towns a hundred miles south and west of Kalgan. Travel was by cart (20 miles a day) or bicycle (much more). By 1936 unpaved motor roads were appearing, and the Maryland Conference sent us a car.

"Methodist Mission, Kalgan, 1848

Side Trip: A Country Trip

Side Trip: Letter from China

Side Trip: Green Glory

Side Trip: Bricks and Porcelain

Side Trip: A Tri[ to Hanoi

July, 1937, undeclared war broke out between Japan and China, - both friends and trading partners or the United States. It began between Kalgan and Beijing, and moved slowly toward Kalgan. Our Senior Missionaries, Rev. and Mrs. Carl G. Soderbom, were on furlough. Rev. and Mrs. Horace S. Williams and I were in Kalgan. Using the new mission car, "Green Glory", we escorted refugees to places of immediate safety West and then Southwest, from Kalgan. At Hankow the Williamses were called home for overdue furlough, and I was authorized to do as the situation required - return to Kalgan, or come, home. I returned to Kalgan by Free China train from Hankow to Tsingtao, by British ship to Tientian, then by Japanese controlled train to Beijing and later to Kalgan.

Side Trip: Japanese Bombers

Arriving in Beijing I reported to the American Consul. He said, "A German merchant arrived today from Kalgan. He has had news of the Methodist Mission. Call on him."

The news was indeed bad. "The Japanese think you are spies. They have put your leading Chinese into prison and are torturing him."

The words were as ominous as could be, but as he spoke them an inner voice was saying: "Have I not commanded you, do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9)

The next day I could not go to Kalgan. It was a closed city. I asked senior missionaries for their advice. One said, "call on Rev. Shimizu. He is a Japanese missionary. He has helped others. Maybe he can help you." Rev. Shimizu conducted a school for poor children, who learned to work while they studied.

I called, taking autographs of my Japanese classmates at Oberlin.

He: "What was your school in America?"

"My last year before coming to China I studied at the Oberlin Graduate School of Theology."

"Oberlin, that is my school. Tell me all about it."

I told him what I could, and showed him the autographs of my friends.

"This man I sent to America. This man I sent to Oberlin. This man I encouraged to go to Oberlin." He had sent most of my Japanese classmates to Oberlin. "There must be some reason you have come to me. What can I do for you?"

I told him the situation at Kalgan, the false accusation, the suffering of our Chinese leader.

"I believe I can help you. When the Japanese commander took Beijing he did not want to destroy the ancient city. He arranged with the Chinese commander not to fight within the walls, and thus to spare the city. I was the go-between who made the arrangement. He is now Commander at Kalgan. He will do anything for me."

On two name cards, one addressed to the Commander, the other to his English-speaking Secretary, Rev. Shimizu wrote, "Introducing my good friend, from my college in America."

Next day Kalgan was no longer a closed city, and I was on the train. Arriving at Kalgan, I met our office manager, no longer in prison. He said, "I was beaten daily, and tortured other ways even worse, but I never confessed to what was not true. One day I said, "Jesus knows I tell the truth. I can tell nothing else." They half believed me then. Norwegian missionaries in the city pleaded for his life. One day he was freed.

In Kalgan I was given every courtesy till I left, December 1938.

1939: The War Years

During the summer of 1939 I spent one month in Chautauqua, New York. They had a summer program which I attended. In one, the speaker talked about China. One of the interested people that attended asked if Chiang Kai- shek was a Christian. The speaker said he gets up at 4:00am to study the Bible with his wife.

A blind pianist played in one program. He asked 3 three different people to name notes and he played a beautiful piece from those 3 notes. That impressed me very much. Later in my life I knew a blind organist and I would announce the hymn number and he would start playing.

The second month I stayed with my family in New Hampshire at Lake Dunmore. My brother, Chapin and I climbed Mt. Washington by way of Tuppermans Ravine. A storm came up delaying our arrival at the top where there was a rest house. A man from Nassau County was there by car and took us back down the mountain. The family at first did not believe that we had climbed the mountain.

There were 2 cabins. Ours was right on the lake. One morning I got up early and looked at the porch of the next cabin and there was a coil of garter snakes at play. All the heads would be coming up at the top of the coil and they playfully bit each other. Then they would run away from each other and then come back into a coil again. I told the landlady about this most interesting sight. She told me not to tell anyone or no one would rent her bungalow. Enough said.

All of the family that could be together came with me to Allenwood, New Jersey.

Standing: Wesley, Roby, Chapin, Stockton. Seated: Vivia and Roby Day, 1940

Before all that I had seen the president of Westminister Theological Seminary. I wanted to meet the Methodist missionary who wrote about his life and work in India (Mr. Buck) and it impressed me very much. I wanted to study with this man at a Methodist Episcopal Church. I had to go to Westminster first under Dr. Forlines.

I got home just in time to drive my mother & father to the last meeting of the Uniting Commission which made the plan of the union of the Methodist Churches.

I had 2 years of seminary to finish. The first year I went to Westminister Theological Seminary, in Westminister, Maryland, which was the Seminary of the Methodist Protestant Church, under Dr. Charles Forlines, the president of the seminary and my professor .

The second year Dr. Charles Forlines sent me to Drew University, Madison, New Jersey as an exchange student to study with Dr. Buck. I went to the graduation of my class but Drew had not yet had its examinations. I had to go back to Drew for my exams. The professor (Dr. Buck) was not there the second semester.

The big event of the year was that during the second semester I met my future wife, Ruthlydia Slayton. Teaching at Drew Seminary was Professor Ralph Felton. He had been to China and I had heard him at a conference. He had to go to the Brooklyn Methodist Hospital and his shaver would not work because it had direct current. I leant him my shaver which he used in the hospital.

After he was well he invited me to dinner. He said would you like to bring someone with you. He said, "I know several eligible girls." The first person he named was Ruthlydia Slayton who was the director of the Madison Larger Perish. She sounded okay to me. We had a good meal and played chinese checkers. She was very pleasant. I dared to ask her would she go with me to the Feltons early the next morning to do the dishes. We did their dishes together that morning. I received a letter from her later asking me about Chiang Kai-shek, if I had any material. He was the hope of China at that time.

One time I invited Ruthlydia to a tea for the Bible society at the home of the missionary group, old established missionaries.

Dr. Cartright, missions secretary, contacted me and told me the requirements of a Methodist Missionary's Wife. She must meet the same requirments as the Missionary. If she were not received her husband would lose his statues as a missionary. She already had the necessary qualifications. I had already asked her once to go to China with me. Two or three months later she reminded me that I had not asked her to marry me, only to go to China with me. I kneeled in my father's garden, in his bean patch and asked her to be my wife.

Wedding, June 7, 1941. Left to right: Luella and Albert Harvey Slayton (bride's parents); Wesley and Ruthlydia Day; Virginia Jordan (bride's sister); James R. Day (groom's brother); Vivia and Roby Day (groom's parents)

She had applied as a Presbyterian. She told someone when asked that she was a Methodist, as of yesterday. We were married on June 7, 1941. Then we had our honeymoon in French Canada. On returning to the US, Rev. Roby Franklin Day, my father, received my wife into the membership of the Methodist Church in Inwood, Long Island. The next day we met the personnel committee who passed on applicants for those who would become Methodist Missionaries.

December, 1942. Jack at Nine Months

When son Jack was first able to walk, mother made a red suit in which Jack would walk proudly across the Berkeley campus. One day a student soldier eyed him and said "Uncle Sam needs you, young fellow!" It made us think.

Ruthlydia with baby Vivia

1947: Return to China

April first, 1947, I was back in Kalgan, China.

Since leaving in December '38 I had finished Seminary, married, studied post-war reconstruction, and served a church.

Family in Hawaii en route to China, 1947

April 17, Bishop Z. T. Kaung held the Fourth Session of the Kalgan Annual Conference. Eleven churches reported 2,634 members led by nine elders. Three districts were organized serving Kalgan and the area a hundred miles south and west of this provincial capital on the border of Mongolia.

Churches of the Kalgan Provisional Conference of the Methodist Church, 1948

My assignment was Conference Treasurer and Superintendent of the Western District.

Church Group in Kalgan, Winter of 1947-1948. In addition to Chinese leaders and Day family, Horace Williams is in back row.

With me was my wife, Ruthlydia, and children, Jack age 5, and Vivia, age 2. At first it was not considered safe for them to remain in Kalgan and they stayed in the Methodist Mission, Beijing.

Later they moved to Kalgan.

The Methodist Mission House in Kalgan, China, 1947

The Day Family in Kalgan, 1947. The zinnias grew from seeds mailed from the U.S

Beside the Methodist Mission in Kalgan, there was a Norwegian Alliance Mission and Hospital, a Pentecostal Church, a Salvation Army Chapel, and a Seventh Day Adventist church and hospital. The British and Foreign Bible Society had an agent in Kalgan. On the Mongol plateau North of us were missionaries of the Swedish Mongol Mission who often stayed with us on their trips to Beijing. Also in Kalgan there was a Roman Catholic Church, served by Belgian Missionary priests.

In the secular world Kalgan (Zhang Zhia Kou) is a trading city where China meets Mongolia. Camel caravans traditionally leave here for points in Central Asia. Sven Hedin, the Swedish explorer embarked from here on his exploration trips into Inner Asia. Roy Chapman Andrews left here in 1931 on his famous --- and successful --- search for dinosaur eggs in the Gobi Desert. From here in 1900, when North China missionaries became martyrs, missionaries in Kalgan escaped across the Gobi desert.

Ruthlydia and Jack on camel, Kalgan

In 1945 when the war ended the Communists took Kalgan. The Nationalists, under General Fu Tso Yi, drove them out. Victims of the fighting in the country fled to Kalgan. The Salvation Army organized the Protestant Christians into a committee which collected what they could to help the refugees, Funds quickly gave out. Someone said, "If we invite the Catholics to join we can become the International Relief Committee and ask help from UNRA (United Nations Relief Administration) and CNRA (China National Relief Administration)." This was done, relief supplies arrived and were distributed where need was great in Kalgan and Inner Mongolia.

One day some Christians came to see me. Neighbors with a newborn child had confided with them that they planned to destroy their baby. "Don't do that," the Christian said, "It is wrong to kill your baby." "We have not enough to feed the five mouths we already have," We cannot feed another. "It is best the new baby die." The Christians said, "We have a proposal. There is a minister, a missionary, in our church. Maybe he will adopt your baby." "All right." If he will adopt our baby, she will live. If not, we do not have enough to feed her, she must die." The Christians came to us. Would we adopt the baby!'

I had a vision of our front porch covered with babies whose mothers could not feed them. I remembered a report of one Pentecostal missionary who did adopt babies. He had an orphanage of ninety-nine when he had to leave.

In our quandary we went to our Chinese pastor, Rev. Yao Pei. "Do you know," he said, "A couple has just come to me. They want to adopt a baby. Maybe they'll adopt this one." Thank God! They did!

Ruthlydia became an effective missionary in part because she had a sense of humor. One thing she---and I---survived was the painting of our living room floor. The Chinese word "yu" is used for both paint and other oils. Our unlettered workmen, anxious to please, got and used the finest cooking oil to paint this important floor. They proudly showed us their handiwork. The floor was shiny and beautiful. But somehow this paint was very slippery and never dried. A week later, it was removed ruefully by embarrassed workmen.

One day in the fall of 1948 an urgent telegram came from the Bishop, "Come to Beijing." "I'm not leaving. My house is all ready for Annual Conference," said Ruthlydia. "You are right", I answered. "We're not leaving. We are completely cut off."

Wesley Day in China dressed as scholar

In a few days the motor road was opened and we drove --- a two day trip --- to Beijing. We bore a message from our executive committee. "Conditions are peaceful at Kalgan. Come up and hold Annual Conference."

But Bishop Kaung said, "Keep on going. There's an American refugee ship in Tientsin. Get on it."

Ruthlydia on Navy ship carrying refugees from Tientsin to Shanghai

Day family on ship to Shanghai

We asked to transfer to West China, and the Bishop agreed.

The Communists took over North China, so fast that the first American refugee ship was also the last. Thanks to Bishop Kaung's foresight, we were on it. Our mission car stayed in North China, but our Public Address system, and our two radios went with us. (One was portable, one was an 11 (or was it 12?) tube superheterodyne bought in America for $20.)

Bishop Ralph A. Ward was in Shanghai and gave his blessing to our travel to West China. We arrived in Chungking by riverboat in time for the West China Annual Conference in December 1948. I was appointed by Bishop W. Y. Chen as District Missionary of the Chungking-Chengdu District, to visit churches along the highway between these cities. There was one empty Methodist house on the West China Union University Campus in Chengdu and we were assigned to it.

Chengtu home on campus of West China Union University

Home on the campus of West China Union University

We spent a busy, quiet year, getting acquainted with the West China Conference churches. Jack went to the Canadian School, and Vivia to a Chinese Kindergarten. The summer of 1949 we joined missionary neighbors conducting a youth retreat on Mount Omei.

Scrapbook: A Chinese Table Grace Used by the Day Family 1947-1951

Our P.A. system had excellent use when Stanley Jones held evangelistic services and when gospel teams visited our churches and held outdoor meetings.

1950: The Communists

Then came the Communists, around New Year, 1950. Soldiers were polite, helping old ladies across the street, paying for whatever they took. University students believed that liberation indeed had come to their country. Morning, noon and night, people, particularly the students, sang the praises of Mao Tze Dung. It seemed like an old-fashioned revival. The faculty mid-week prayer meeting, which I attended, seemed very quiet by comparison.

A committee of students asked me if they could borrow my public address system for a series of meetings. I agreed provided I operate it. So I sat behind the stage turning dials while the students revised the curriculum, gave popular teachers subjects to teach, unpopular teachers none.

A special section of the police department was set up for foreigners, each of whom was interviewed. I was asked what I was in charge of. "Nothing, I came to preach." My interviewer finally put it down. I asked permission to visit my churches in the district--outside of Chengdu. "It's not safe now for you to go outside Chengdu. We'll let you know when it's safe." Thereafter every so often I asked for permission to go to my district. It was never "safe".

I preached in Chengdu as late as August, 1950, but not after that. One day I went to the city church to call on my friend the preacher. He met me at the gate-house. "Don't call today" he said, agitated. "We got permission to bring preachers in from the country. We promised the authorities no foreigners would be present."

No objection was ever raised to our having two radios, so we had good news coverage. We heard, however, that one Chinese, in the secrecy of his family, listened to the Voice of America. A man in uniform came to the house, told him he must not listen to the Voice of America. In great secrecy he continued to listen. Men came and took him away.

In August the news was bad between China and the U.S. We thought we should leave. We quietly told our friends, who said, "Don't go now. There are two parties in Beijing. One wants to be friends of the U.S., the other doesn't. Stay."

In November, 1950, China sent volunteers into the Korean War. November 14 we applied to leave. My teacher wrote the application. "Why do you want to go?" "I can't do any work, so I want to leave." "I can't put that in the application. Are your parents living?" He wrote in beautiful Chinese in the application, "My Father is aged and there is no one to hold up his arms." The application was received with a smile by the police.

After three weeks friends told us quietly --and urgently, "Relations are bad between our countries. Go --- quickly!" But we had no permit to go anywhere.

Finally the notice came. We could advertise our intended departure in the newspaper. (This meant if anybody had anything against us, they could report it to the government and we could not go till all was cleared up.)

I had to get someone to guarantee my conduct outside of China. (I was told that if I said or did anything outside of China of which the Chinese government did not approve, my sponsor would be punished.) At the time we left no Chinese would dare to sponsor an American foreigner, so the government allowed the Canadian Press to be our sponsor. Sometime after we left the government took over the Canadian Press, so no Chinese I know is now responsible for my behavior in America.

We left Chengdu with several others, January 4, 1951. Hours after we left, all foreign homes were searched and no one was allowed to leave for months. We spent time in Chungking waiting for a boat down the Yangtse. February 22 we arrived in Hong Kong. How beautiful was the Union Jack!

We weren't home yet. It took six weeks to get a ship out of Hong Kong. Also, we had promised to visit our aging missionaries in Sweden, and we kept our promise. June 4, 1951 our ship the Gripsholm passed the Statue of Liberty, and we were soon in the arms of our family. Doxology!

1952: Teluk Anson, Malaya

(now Teluk Intan, Malaysia), 1952-1955

August 1952 we were on the MS Soesdyke, which left us at Penang, Malaya, from where a taxi took us the fifty miles to our new home at Teluk Intan (then called Teluk Anson.)

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Family in Malaysia

FUTURE PHOTO HERE Wesley Day family, 1952

My assignment was pastor of the Wesley (English speaking) Methodist Church and Chaplain of the Horley Methodist (then Anglo-Chinese) Boys School. School staff was very helpful, as was our Methodist Youth Fellowship. The government favored–indeed required–religious teaching, and I was quickly involved in several chapel services.

After a year our Malaysian principal, W. E. Pereira retired (mandatory retirement at age 55. He continued as a teacher.) I was appointed as his successor.

Speaking at school assembly, Malaya

Mr. Pereira had been a popular and able administrator, and I was glad to take his advice in everything. Then one day a sixth grade boy was sent to the office for repeated fighting.

"I recommend," said my advisor, "that this boy be spanked by the principal."

The boy made his plea. "Please spank me, Sir. Only please don't tell my father."

The boy plead to no avail. He was suspended. He was allowed to go and get his book and go home. Mr. Pereira and I called on his father.

"I don't see how this can be," said his father. "We don't let him play when he comes home. We send him right to his studies."

You can imagine what Mr. Pereira, a district scout-master, said to the boy's father.

The boy's suspension was then ended. He was never sent to the office again.

In accepting the appointment of principal I had asked Bishop Archer to appoint a qualified Malaysian for this job when possible. This he did about a year later. My successor was Teerathram.

One day the woman who lived in the house next to the school yard complained that some boys were climbing the fence into her yard. The principal heard their story, then slapped each boy on the hand with a ruler. All parties, including the boys, were satisfied, and there were no further complaints.

So much for corporal punishment in Malaysia.

One of the teachers, Stanley Padman, was a leader among the boys, and a devoted Christian. Missionaries and other pastors came and went, but Stanley, then he, his wife and family, were a strong Christian influence that did not move away. We still correspond.

Christmas at Teluk Anson, 1953

Members of the Tamil Indian congregation.

1955: Palembang, Indonesia

One day a letter came from Bishop Archer proposing that we move to Indonesia, to South Sumatra, to Palembang, where I would be principal of the Methodist English School, and pastor of the English Protestant Church. The Bishop ended his letter with "I hope you will see this Macedonian opportunity."

May 20, 1955, our ship arrived at Palembang, capital city of the Province of South Sumatra, in 800 AD capital of the Sriwijaya Empire, now a seaport (fifty miles up the Musi River) which exports oil and other products of South Sumatra.

The Methodist English School was begun in 1908 and was a leading school in the area, Over a thousand students from Grade 1 to Senior High School thronged a building built in 1932 for several hundred in downtown Palembang. In the evenings adults came to learn English. There was no playground except the school courtyard. Three miles from the center of town on the road to the airport was a hilltop called by the mayor the "Pearl of Palembang" bought by the Methodists some years before. There were squatters on the land. The local government promised to get them off, but the squatters were there when our furlough was due in 1957.

I spent the year of home assignment studying school administration.

Returning in early 1958, as we drove from the airport past our hilltop, squatters were removing their houses, brick by brick. Building genius Dr. Charles Shumaker, our Medan, North Sumatra principal, who had built a beautiful school in Malacca, Malaya, then one in Medan, had gotten action on the squatters. Under his direction, Athay, the contractor who built the Medan School came to Palembang and built the Palembang School (and residences). It is named in the Encyclopedia Britannica (1975) among the landmarks of Palembang.

In 1958 1 was appointed by Bishop Archer's successor, Bishop Hobart B. Amstutz, as Superintendent of the North Sumatra Chinese District, while continuing as principal of the Palembang MES and pastor of the English Protestant Church. The arrival of Rev. and Mrs. Kenneth Vetters of Indiana in 1956 helped to make this possible.

I made a spring and fall trip to my district, 800 miles away. The spring trip was interrupted by a rebellion in North Sumatra. The fall trip Ruthlydia went with me, and we had a very happy time visiting our Chinese co-workers. Bishop Amstutz officially organized the Wesley Methodist Church, Medan, while I was their DS.

The English Protestant church refers to the English speaking congregation which met at the Stanvac (Standard Oil) refinery village at Sungei Gerong Sunday afternoons, and the Methodist Church, Palembang, some Sunday mornings. The nearest available missionary served the congregation. At Sungei Gerong the company built the church. Three congregations used it, the English Protestant, the Dutch Protestant, and the Roman Catholic. A committee from the three congregations planned its use. In 1955, the Methodists had the only English speaking missionary, who served as pastor. Later Baptist missionaries came and we shared this leadership. Stanvac had oil fields at Pendopo and Lirik. We held monthly meetings there when possible.

In 1955 beside the Methodist English School and the English Protestant Church connection, the Methodists had a church in Palembang in which two congregations met. In one, Indonesian was spoken, in the other, Chinese. In towns and villages in South Sumatra there were unorganized groups of Methodists, which met in homes.

In Palembang, besides the Methodists, there was a Roman Catholic church, school and hospital, a Dutch Reformed Church, a Pentecostal Church, and after the Baptist missionaries came, a Baptist Church.

While we were there the Dutch pastor was married in a "glove" ceremony. He was in Indonesia. His fiancee was in Holland. In a legal ceremony in Holland, a friend of his, wearing a glove, took the vows in his place. Then his legal wife proceeded to Indonesia where they had a church wedding.

At this time, positions of leadership in our Indonesian church and our two major schools had usually been held by missionaries. This changed in 1958.

February 7, 1958, the day after I returned from furlough, a meeting was called in Palembang of foreign school principals and addressed by a representative from Jakarta of the National Govemment. We were notified that from May 18 no foreigner could be principal of an Indonesian school in South Sumatra, and no Indonesian citizen could attend a foreign school.

The MES carried out the government order. Before May 18 our seniors who should be graduated in July were graduated, and the school took a two week vacation. Then the students returned for a new school year. Nine tenths of our students were Indonesian citizens. They were enrolled in the Sekolah Methodist, in which the language of instruction and the curriculum was Indonesian, their teachers were Indonesian citizens, and their principal (their former vice-principal) was Indonesian. One tenth of our students were foreigners (mostly stateless Chinese). They continued to study in the Methodist English School and I was their principal.

1961: Bandar Lampung, Indonesia

In 1961, the day the new school building was dedicated, our transfer to Bandar Lampung was planned. "There are now three missionary families in Palembang. Our church can expand. Go to Bandar Lampung. See what can be done and do it. May God lead you," said Bishop Hobart B. Amstutz and Board Secretary Tracey K. Jones.

Bandar Lampung is a fishing and trading center near the southern tip of the island of Sumatra and now the capital of Lampung Province. It exports spices, such as nutmeg and pepper.

Historians will remember that in 1883 the island of Krakatoa, almost in sight of Teluk Betung (now Bandar Lampung) blew up. On a hillside road above Teluk Betung rests a large buoy left by the tidal wave which followed, which destroyed the city. Krakatoa is no more. However, some years ago a little volcanic island appeared in the same location, and over the years is gradually growing. It emits smoke. "Little Krakatoa" is now a park.

Rev. Yap Tian-peng, the Chinese pastor in Palembang, drove with us to Bandar Lampung, then a two-day trip by car over rocky mountain roads, (or one long day by train). There we called on the pastor of the Gereja Protestant (Dutch Reformed Church), who agreed for us to hold a Chinese service in his church Sunday afternoons, then on to the Department of Religious Affairs to report our plans. Then we spent one day looking at 30 houses and choosing one to be our home. Rev. Yap knew some Chinese business people and we called on them.

Everywhere we announced our first service Sunday at 3 PM in Chinese. About 15 came out. As far as I know, there has been a Methodist service at Bandar Lampung every Sunday since.

One of the young people who attended our Chinese service was Wu Kuan-ching, who was soon taking us to call on the sick and sick at heart. He was with us so much that people began to call him our "son". Then there was a call for Bible School students in Medan, and Kuan-ching heard the call. Before he left he stayed up all night with his friend Hsu Ho-ch'uan, praying with him and placing before him the need of our church for a Sunday School Superintendent and church visitor. Then Ho-ch'uan became our "son".

Some people I called on couldn't speak Chinese or English. "Could our church serve them?" I asked.

An old man answered, "Before the war there was a Methodist School here. It was taught by Phinehas Patissina, now retired. He and his wife are now living in a town thirty miles from here. Call on him and ask him your question."

Patissina was enthusiastic. "I know everybody in town. Many were my students. If you will start a service I will take the bus to town every Friday, stay with my relatives, go calling with you Saturday, and help with the service Sunday."

Phinehas Patissina was good as his word. In fact he was a good preacher and God blessed our service.

One day during the service I saw something which brought tears to my eyes. Years ago Mr. Patissina had had a stroke which made him lame. The Reformed Church we borrowed has a high pulpit. Access to it is by steep winding wooden stairway, not visible to the audience. From the side I saw the old man climbing on his hands and knees up the steep wooden steps to preach the Gospel.

Before we left on furlough in July '62 the DS came and officially organized the two Methodist congregations.

During our furlough in '62 - '63 Jack graduated from Western Maryland College, and Vivia from Oceanside High School on Long Island. Furlough had come at the right time for us to attend their graduations. We could not attend their weddings, nor our parents' funerals. We were too far away.

In the summer of '63, we returned to Bandar Lampung where I pastored the Chinese congregation and Rev. Timothy Wu the Indonesian congregation.

Hsu Ho-ch'uan, our "son", was faithfully serving as Sunday School Superintendent and church visitors But he was out of a job. He was a teacher. The only job he could get was teaching in a Communist Chinese School fifty miles away. Before he left we had a farewell service for him at church and then a more private party and service at our home. At this service our church commissioned him a missionary to the Communist School. We also prayed for others--our Board chairman's son studying at a boarding school at Bandung, Java, and our daughter, 14,000 miles away, looking for a summer job after her first year at Pfeiffer College in North Carolina.

During the year Ho Ch'uan wrote us--could he bring a friend, another teacher, and stay at our home for two or three days during the next vacation? They did so, sharing our Upper Room daily devotions. Before they left, his friend said to us that our home was very different from American homes described to him at school.

Our days in Lampung were shortened by political events. The two British families at the Bible School in Medan were withdrawn when it appeared that there might be war between Indonesia and Britain. April 1965, to help replace them, we were moved from Bandar Lampung to Medan by our newly autonomous Methodist Church. Just before we left Bandar Lampung we were privileged to take part in the ground-breaking ceremony of the first Methodist Church in Bandar Lampung. There is now a Lampung District in our church.

1965: Medan, Indonesia

Moving is not easy. Our piano, bought in Malaya, was shipped in its box when we moved to Palembang, to Bandar Lampung, and to Medan. It survived the first two moves very well, but not the last. When we opened the box the keys were in heaps and piles. In despair we called a piano tuner. He said, "You are lucky. Your sounding board is okay. I can rebuild your piano," which he did.

September 28 1965 the Communists tried to take over Indonesia, and failed. In the blood-letting which followed untold thousands perished. The Communist party, the second largest party in the country, ceased to exist.

It was a dangerous time, but we were not involved in this emergency. I found teaching Bible in Chinese and Indonesian to students, some of whom were outstanding, to be very challenging.

1968 we taught at the Nommensen Theological Seminary, Pematang Siantar, a Lutheran seminary with ten Methodist students.

Pematang Siantar is not far from Lake Toba, a major inland lake of Sumatra noted for its natural beauty.

Swimming

Boating.

Boating.

Parapat , Lake Toba, in 1966.

1969 back to Medan to teach in the Methodist University and the Methodist Bible Institute.

Wesley study.

Ruthlydia Teaching

Son Jack preaches to the Indonesian congregation while on a visit in June 1969 after completing a year in Vietnam as a chaplain

Jack preaching.

After the service: son Jack with Ruthlydia and Indonesian pastor, June 1969

After the Service.

To this during 1973 Bishop Gultom added the pastorship of Medan Wesley Church.

Visiting Indonesian congregation.

Excursions

Couple and Friends.

Ruthlydia and Golf Companions.

Youth Fellowship. Wesley Day is fourth from left. Photo by John Tandana

Annual Conference, 1972.

1974 Ruthlydia's hip gave her trouble. We were called home to have it treated. The hip was successfully replaced in August 1974. But on May 8, 1975 Ruthlydia was "called Home" after a stroke. She was 71. June first we were to be retired.

At her Memorial Service a Medan student at Drew Seminary said: "Ibu [=Mother] Day was a very understanding and loving mother to her students. She had a special concern for those who had problems and were slow to learn. Like a loving mother, she would sit with the students for long hours, discussing and sharing their problems. There was always laughter and joy wherever she went."

1975: Retirement

Since retirement I have made three return trips to China. I did not get back to Kalgan but I did get back to Chengtu, West China, where Daniel Lee (Drew Ph.D '40) had survived much and was still preaching at age 90+. His son, Lee Dong, was then studying at Trinity Theological College, Singapore.

I returned to Indonesia in 1980 for their 75th Anniversary celebration and tried to visit each place where I had served. I accepted Bishop Sitorus' invitation to go back for two years as a special missionary -- the Board paid my way but I lived on my pension. I was to do visiting and some preaching at Medan Wesley Church.

"The congregation is getting too big for the church," sighed Fred Ingold, Pastor. "There is a lot behind the church facing the next Street. A church member owns it, and is planning to build her own house on it. The church should buy it, but has only half the money we need. We could raise half the balance, but no way can we raise it all." Then he left on furlough. One night I couldn't sleep. I had juset enough in available savings to meet the need. A voice within said, "You are giving two years of your life to build up the church. If you really mean business you'll put your money where your heart is." I drew up a letter to the Church Board. If they really meant business and would raise the balance, the money was available. It would be sent through the Board of Missions.

There were two opinions among the members. Some said, "We can't trust the Bishop, we can't trust the Board, we can't raise all that money."

A new church member and member of the Board voiced this view and proposed that we accept this gift from the Board, report that it was spent for this purpose, and spend it on something else.

Somebody whispered something to the new member. He looked at me and smiled sheepishly.

A member of the Board then proposed the church accept the challenge, that the Board members lead the way by each making a pledge then and there. They did so. They raised the money and bought the land.

A few years later I made my next trip back to China. Fred Ingold wrote me proposing that after the China trip I make a side trip from Hongkong to Medan and take part in the dedication of a new social hall for Wesley Church. I was happy to do this.

It was great to be back among friends reading the liturgy which dedicatd the new hall. Noone told me that when they pulled the string uncovering the dedication tablet it would read "Wesley Day Hall". A surprise party followed in the hall.

The dedication tablet has just been unveiled.

Mixed feelings come with such an honor. I feel that this is for saints and I'm not up to it. And I feel that others are far better saints than I am. And I think of how the honor to me might incite jealousy among some who believe they are more worthy than I. Then I think, "Oh, pshaw, let's have a sense of humor. These are good solid people. I love them."

One other event I must write about. Coming back as a "Volunteer in Mission" I stayed in the parsonage.

A male student in a nurses' training college had some bad luck. His widowed father had died, his family in a remote village gathered enough money to pay what they could. On his way back to school he contracted an illness and had to spend some of his fee money on medicine. Arriving at school he was finally registered with insufficient fee money, because the school band in which he played needed him. But by the end of the semester he must pay all. He was too sick to work. (His last job had been as a street sweeper.) He would soon be expelled from his boarding house, and at the end of the term from his school. With many tears he told his friends, including our MYF leader, Sonny Cornelius. Sonny told Fred Ingold.

Fred gave him a little cash in the emergency. Fred came to see me. Would I agree to his living with me in the parsonage if Fred wrote a letter to the church board requesting this? I thought: "A street sweeper--my parsonage mate. "What if he turns out to be hard to live, a crook, or just boring?"

Then I remembered an Indian preacher hospitable Fred had invited to stay in the parsonage for a few days with his wife and baby. They did their own cooking.

I answered: "This is mid-December. He is welcome to live with me till the next Mission Volunteers come in mid-January. Then they must decide."

When the student came I told him: "Breakfast we will eat together. Lunch you get at school. Supper you get yourself. You may use the kitchen and facilities."

First day we had breakfast together. Student was polite and friendly. Then he went to school. That night the cook had to go out for some reason, so she cooked me some soup, with a package of Indomie (instant noodles) to put in at the last minute. The student came at supper time, watched intently as I emptied the noodles into the pot, turned up the heat, then ate the result. I wanted to invite my guest to eat with me, but of course I didn't. Next night he came with a package of noodles. After I finished supper, he put water in the pot, added the Indomie (noodles) and soon made his supper. Next morning during breakfast, a thought struck me, and I asked, "Can you cook?" "I can cook instant noodles," he grinned. "Let's eat together," I said.

In a day or two he asked to join my evening devotions. He poured out his soul in prayer, and there was healing.

His testimony is in the Upper Room for August 18, 1991.

Another Volunteer in Mission, Rev. Dr. George P. Werner, Retired, New York Conference, informally organized a group of people to sponsor "Fasa" in the Medical College of the Methodist University in Medan. He is now doing his internship and wants to bring modern medicine to his own remote area on the island of Nias.

Please pray for Fasa , and all others who pray, "Thy Kingdom come."

I went to visit Indonesia again for two weeks after the World Methodist Conference in Singapore in 1991. In 1980 I had tried to visit all chuches where I had served. Thereafter I returned to Medan Wesley Church.

After retirement in l975 I hoped to live for many years more in the Allenwood home, but that was not to be. A tiny lung cancer put me in the hospital from December 15, 1995 for a week, followed by a week (her Christmas vacation) in my daughter's living room, followed by two weeks in which nurses' aides came to see me, and church women brought me their finest cooking. This softened me up for the proposal that if I planned to come eventually to the Francis Asbury Manor Retirement Home in Ocean Grove, why not now? A nice room was waiting and I agreed it was time to move into it---September l8, 1997.

2005: Completion. By Jackson H. Day

Wesley Day died June 5, 2005. He would have been 95 years old in less than three months. Age had taken its toll.

In his marvelous book, "How We Die," surgeon Sherwin Nuland recalled an earlier era in which on July 5, 1814, 71-year old Thomas Jefferson wrote to 78-year old John Adams, "But our machines have now been running seventy or eighty years, and we must expect that, worn as they are, here a pivot, there a wheel, now a pinion, next a spring, will be giving way; and however we may tinker them up for a while, all will at length surcease motion."

Four years earlier, on March 25, 2001, I had already taken over preparing his income tax returns. In a letter forwarding tax information, he added,

"I have other things to worry about. I'm slowing up and I don't like it. 'The old gray mare ain't what she used to be.' and I don't like this either. On the good side, I'm in a good place, where nurses abound, there is a good activities department that can think of more games than I have time to play. And I have a son who is taking this burden off my back and who sends me inspiring sermons and who comes when he can, and a daughter who takes me to family events.

....Here it is ---3 AM; get to bed, Granddad, better not set the alarm --- let the sun wake you in the morning.

Oh yes, Granddad, put some offering in the envelope tonight while you think of it. The church bus will be here at 10 o'clock.

I feel better. Somebody in the family is preaching. I'm learning how to relax. Wish I could see better. Glad I have a hearing aid---and a cane.

Good night. God bless you and Fran. God bless you and Fran and your loved ones, and Vivia and Jim, and Mom-mom and all their loved ones, and everybody in the whole world! Love, Dad.

In August, 2002, daughter Vivia hosted a family reunion and 92rd birthday celebration at her home in Allenwood. She was planning to move to North Carolina, and this was the last August such a reunion could be held. Friends and relatives came from far and near. On Sunday morning, I conducted a communion service.

Son Jack consecrates communion at the reunion.

We had a tape of Wesley's father preaching his last sermon about 1960, and got a photo of Dad listening to it.

Hearing his father's voice.

Then we went across the street to Dunroven and posed for a group photograph.

Cousins: Wesley's children, nieces and nephews. Jack Day, Vivia Tatum, Jeanne Simmons, Roby Day, Bonnie Ambruso, Chapin Day

In 2004, Wesley Day's health began to fail. It was very gradual and nothing ocurred that caused alarm. He fell asleep with increasing frequency, but he had always been able to catch a nap when the opportunity was right! Much mail was now going unanswered, but for the most part that wasn't noticed until it was time to dispose of things, and much unanswered mail was found.

Dinner at Francis Asbury Manor

Gone were the days when Christmas letters would be sent to his many friends around the country. Increasingly, those friends had passed on.

On March 24, 2005, friends picked him up at Francis Asbury Manor and took him to St. Paul's United Methodist Church in Herbertsville so that he could help serve communion at the Holy Thursday Communion service. He slept through part of the service but accomplished the important parts.

On April 1, my wife and I visited him at Francis Asbury Manor. I will always be grateful to the IRS; it was the need to make sure I had the right papers to do his taxes that prompted the trip. When we arrived we discovered he had forgotten we were coming; that was the first time that had ever happened. Getting ready to go out -- the weather was cool -- he was confused, imagining that he had to pack for an overnight trip. Convinced that that was unnecessary, we went out to a favorite watering hole, the "Princess Maria Diner" down route 35. His sweet tooth prevailed and he did justice to a large slice of strawberry cheesecake. It was the last time that he would be with us in his right mind and be able to converse. Fran and I went on to my son's home in Somerset.

Four nights later the call came saying that he was in intensive care at the Jersey Shore Medical Center in Neptune, New Jersey; Francis Asbury Manor had sent him there because he wasn't acting himself. We drove there that night. It appeared to us that he had fallen and hit the back of his head; discoloration was beginning to spread. By the next day it was clear from MRI's that he had sustained a serious brain injury. After a week's stay and stabilization, he was transferred to Fountain View Care Center in Lakewood, NJ, where his granddaughter Brenda is a speach therapist.

For two months he held on. From the time of the fall, there were times of occasional lucidity, times of silence, and times when it was clear he was somewhere else. Once while he was at Jersey Shore Medical Center, it was clear that in his mind he was attending an important meeting. I overheard the phrase "local leaders" and "Oberlin Man." I had just read a page of his autobiography and I could tell he was back in 1937, negotiating passage and safety with the Japanese.

His wit overcame his increasing disabilities. It was reported that when he was first taken to the hospital on April 5th, he had been asked if he knew why he was there. He answered, "It must be for someone else's benefit."

One day when Fran and I were waiting with him for his hair to be cut, I told him that after the haircut he would be so handsome that people would remark on it. He responded, "I'm certainly glad of that, Jack."

Once at Fountain View, I wore a sweatshirt with a Chinese character on it, with the English translation below, "pretentious." I asked him if he recognzied the character and without hesitation he responded, "Chun".

By the end of May he was swallowing with increasing difficulty, and soon he could no longer eat. Systems were shutting down. On Friday, June 3rd we received the call that it would be good to see him. Fran and I drove up from Maryland that evening. My son Jim came down during the day Saturday. We read psalms to him. Vivia and Jim arrived from North Carolina.

The next morning I drove back to Grace Church in Maryland. I had thought it over and decided that Dad would have wanted me to be in church that morning. "Someone in the family is preaching." Services over, I checked the telephone at the church. Vivia had left a message: Dad had died peacefully and taken his last breath at 12:05 PM.

Many churches would have been appropriate for his funeral, but we felt that the church where he had worshipped most recently, St. Paul's UMC in Ocean Grove, would be the right place, especially since many who knew him from Francis Asbury Manor would be able to attend. The pastors from St. Paul's Ocean Grove and St. Paul's in Herbertsville conducted the Service of Death and Resurrection on June 11th. Then we drove to Allenwood, and buried his ashes in the family plot. He had requested cremation so that there would be room for him without cutting down the tree that had grown up in the family plot; he liked the idea that he, his wife, his parents, and his brother and his wife would all lie there in the shade.

I had a chance to say a few words at the funeral:

While planning the drive to this service, I thought, "oh, and we must stop at Francis Asbury Manor to pick up Dad."

This is an event he wouldn't have missed. So many friends. So many family. So many church leaders. People he loved, people he worked with. And food.

Well, it's been nearly a week. I trust his passport and visa are in order, he's gotten through customs and immigration, his new citizenship is confirmed, and he has some time now to be with us in spirit. I'm sure that if wishes are adequate to the task, he is here with us.

As many of you know, Dad suffered a fall April 5 and with the resulting brain injury, could no longer process information or solve problems. But what I want to share this morning is my joy that even with that kind of impairment, the essence of who he was continued to shine through.

He was friendly. He loved people and people loved him. When you'd greet him, you'd get a big smile.

It was the same friendliness that made him -- not just pleasant -- but a friend to so many. This past week cyberspace has been full of notes from people saying what Wesley Day meant to them. A lot of it I didn't know. I couldn't have known. While he had a healthy sense of caution, he lived his life in the trust that people were good and a way could be found to work with them. He passed on that friendliness and trust to his children at an early age. I remember when I was 9 and Vivia 6 and we were refugees on a ship leaving Communist China, and the two of us children entertained soldiers with songs we had learned about Mao Tse-tung and the new dawn that he had brought to China. Perhaps that friendliness helped ease the way.

He was friendly and he was determined, even at the end of life. The hospital staff weren't pleased when his determination was a struggle to get out of bed, but it was the same determination that had gotten him across Japanese lines to get back to Kalgan, North China, the same determination that helped him get schools built in the face of opposition from bureaucrats in their offices and squatters on the land, the same determination that kept him steady when there were times of trouble, whether the trouble was ideology, revolution, or war.

His friendliness and determination were intrinsic to his passion. His life was the Kingdom of God in the people of Asia. That was his passion.

It was probably that that made me an early riser. I remember as a child in China and then later Malaysia I would sometimes wake up and the lights would be on and it would be 4 AM and Dad was packing books and clothing to take on a trip into the countryside away from the city. I somehow made the association that if something happened at 4 AM, it was important, and the early morning hours have always been magical for me..

It was a quiet passion, because he was calm and steady. But if you missed the passion in him, you missed what he was about.

In his family, each person's cemetery marker is inscribed with a verse. His is Matthew 16:25. "For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." That verse was the theme of his life and the source of his passion -- a commitment to being a disciple of Christ, a commitment from which I never knew him to waver.

Benediction.