Remembering Corinth, Part 8-After Church

Remembering Corinth, by Dave Hayes, is a ten-part series about Dave’s remembrances of Corinth in the late ‘50s.  Dave, a retired elementary teacher and guidance counselor (36 years), and part time adjunct professor in the Counseling Dept. at nearby West Chester Univ. (24 years-8 after his “first” retirement) lives in Pottstown, PA.  He and his wife, Kathleen, had four children, Heather, Jeremy, Emily (d.2008) and Benjamin.  He descends from Wilber Sr. as follows: Wilber Sr., Rev. Charles “Chop” Dayton, Isabelle “Izzie” [Dayton] Hayes, David Hayes.

Part 8 – After Church

It wasn’t just “in” church where there are strong memories.  I have wonderful recollections of times spent in the parsonage with Grampa, Gramma Jo and Cammie.  We would run up and down those stairs and listen to the grownups in the kitchen through the grate in the bathroom upstairs.  We would play in the bedrooms and sometimes have sleepovers, too.  I loved to spin around in my grandfather’s chair in his study just inside the front door.  It somehow felt like a “holy place.”  After church, there were often snacks and a time of family fellowship.  That was after we got back from helping Grampa take home some of the folks from church.  Now THAT was an adventure.  We would drop them off at their homes and then Grampa would begin to coast down the hill in neutral to see how far we could go without accelerating.  We kids would laugh and encourage the car and even get out to push the extra few feet to see how far we could go.  When not coasting, we would be singing a rousing rendition of a hymn or chorus or listening as Grampa told us some outlandish story.  It was a magical time and I never wanted it to end!  Even after all these years, those after-service trips remain a very special memory.  [What got me thinking about those late Sunday evening trips was the picture in the latest Dayton Family Newsletter…the one with the map of Corinth and the corner by the Baptist Church.  Grampa was in a hurry one time (surprise!) and he took that corner on two wheels!  That moment is indelibly etched into my memory as is that particular corner.]

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Paul Dayton’s Injury: Does pneumonia burn the skin?

DFH Volume 1 Issue 17

My dad never told us kids about being injured when opening a barrel of pneumonia.  And I never knew that pneumonia would burn your skin.  It’s really a curious thing.  I didn’t get so much as a little red spot on my skin when I got my pneumonia shot recently.  Hum…I just wonder if the reporter or editor made a typo just like I do sometimes in this newsletter.  I’ll bet he meant ammonia.  After searching and reviewing ammonia in google, I’m quite sure it was industrial strength ammonia which burned my dad.  It’s quite dangerous, and I thank God that his eyes were spared any injury.  Here is what the New York State Department of Health says about exposure to ammonia. ” Skin or eye contact: Exposure to low concentrations of ammonia in air or solution may produce rapid skin or eye irritation. Higher concentrations of ammonia may cause severe injury and burns. Contact with concentrated ammonia solutions such as industrial cleaners may cause corrosive injury including skin burns, permanent eye damage or blindness. The full extent of eye injury may not be apparent for up to a week after the exposure. Contact with liquefied ammonia can also cause frostbite injury.”

The Family of Wilber Thomas Dayton Sr.

DFH Volume 1 Issue 17

By Florence “Flossie” [Dayton] Denton (1906-1987)

INTRODUCTION: At our Dayton Family Reunion in 1998, Shirley Bortner, Flossie [Dayton] Denton’s daughter, brought a suitcase full of her mother’s family history, genealogical notes and photographs.  This story, written by Flossie, was among her many notes was the following manuscipt:

On August 31, 1904, Wilber Thomas Dayton, son of Charles Erastus and Nancy Goodnow Dayton, brought home his bride, Jessie Belle White, daughter of Alexander and Anna Maria [Flansburg] White. Wilber and Jessie Belle had just been married in a wedding ceremony at the home of the bride’s parents, who were living on the Lawton farm (now Madison place) on Hadley Hill. The groom was 33 years old; the bride 24.

Wilber and his brother James had been keeping “bachelor’s hall” on the Dayton homestead which had been established by their grandfather, Henry, son of David Dayton, one of the first white settlers in the town of Hadley. The house is no longer there. It burned several years ago, and the area has been divided into several portions. The caretaker’s house now occupies the place where the original house stood.

Wilber and Jessie Belle began their married life in the house built by Henry, while James took the land on the opposite side of the road and lived in a small one room house. Later another small house was moved to the property. Eventually the 2 buildings were combined. As a child, I remember seeing Uncle Jim’s bed which was composed partly of ropes. (NOTE: Now in the possession of Mark Humbert).  He lived there until the death of his brother-in-law, Thomas Roach. Then he went to Greenwich to help his sister, Jennie Dayton Roach, run her farm. He died there at the age of 71.

Jessie Belle and Wilber boarded the schoolteacher the year following their marriage. Her name was Gertrude Austin; hence the middle name of their first child, Flossie Gertrude, born July 19, 1905, who heard from early childhood that she was to be a teacher. I (Flossie) was the last Dayton to be born on the old homestead. About 3 years later the place was sold to Frank Ramsey, who had married my maternal grandmother, Anna Maria Flansburg White, widow of Alexander White. The later had died of a heart attack while plowing his garden on the Lawton place. So my maternal grandmother moved to the house which had been home to my paternal grandparents and great grandparents.

 
Baby Flossie

In 1908 Wilber, Jessie Belle and daughter Flossie, moved to Lake Luzerne, where we lived in part of the Morton house. The large rock over which it stood is still visible on Main Street in Lake Luzerne. I believe mother wanted to be near to a doctor as her second confinement approached. At my birth she had been attended only by a midwife named Mrs. Goodnow. Charles Alexander was born May 4,1908, in Lake Luzerne.

The next winter found us living on Hadley Hill again. This time we were staying at the Kennedy place while dad cut wood for Wm Garner, who own a wood lot nearby. We were living there when the fire broke out on West Mt. My earliest recollection is of spending a night with a neighbor family while the men were fighting fire. Mother and baby Charles were there too. I believe we were at the home of Alford Stewart, who lived on the road that now leads to the fire tower trail. About 1909 mother and dad bought the Lawton place, which, as a bride, mother had left in 1904. I remember the pretty pink locust shrubs that adorned the front of the house and the swing that hung from the butternut tree. My second brother, Chester Arthur, was born on the Lawton place January 6, 1910.  When it became apparent that confinement was eminent, dad hitched the horse to the cutter and drove five miles to Luzerne to get Dr. Thompson. The latter waited to eat a warm breakfast before starting out in the mid-winter snow storm. In the meantime, mother was having difficulty. Injuries suffered at this time affected her health for many years.

Mother did not send me to school until I was nearly 7 years old. She taught me some things at home and encouraged me to sew. We children were brought up on Bible stories. Each time that I memorized a Bible verse, mother would make a garment for my doll. My first school days were spent in a little one room schoolhouse in the East Hadley district. It was toward the end of that term when we moved that summer to Pine Street, Palmer Falls, now part of Corinth. I entered the 1st grade in the Palmer Ave. school at the age of 7.

Our parents had bought 3 contiguous lots, each 50 ft. by 150 ft,  on top of the hill at the lower end of Pine Street. Dad built a small barn in which we lived for a few weeks until the house was habitable. Alon Smith built the house following a blueprint made by mother. Dad painted it pearl grey. However, it is not that color now, and it has been enlarged. It stands at the top of the hill on the right side of Pine Street, as one travels from the mill toward the outskirts of the village.

After working two years unloading wood from the train at the mill, dad longed to get back to farm work. So we sold the house on Pine Street and moved to the Angell District where he took care of Harry Shorey’s farm for about 6 months, Sept. to March. Charles and I attended a one room school taught by Mina Angell. I thought she was perfect. One day at recess the girls were discussing what they wanted to be when grown up. I said, “I want to be just like Miss Angell.” That pleased the teacher. Miss Angell later taught the 6th grade at Corinth school. Finally, she married George Peck and lived in Schenectady. She is buried in the cemetery on the Angell farm.

In March 1914 we moved back to Hadley Hill. Our parents had bought the Gailey place, located between Uncle Will White’s farm and the Gilbert place. In recent years the Gailey farm belonged to the late Mr. Nordmere, so Charles and I and eventually Chester attended the East Hadley Hill school.  The teachers for the next few years were Walter Moore, Ethel Parker, Clara Burnham, Blanche Earls, and Miss Sullivan.  In 1918, I went to Lake Luzerne where I tried the Regents Exams so that I could be admitted to high school.  When Miss Burnham was teaching on Hadley Hill, she gave me private organ lessons for twenty-five cents each.

While we were living on the Gailey place, Frank Ramsey, my step-grandfather, died.  So, my grandmother came to live with us.  She persuaded us to spend the summer of 1916 at her farm, which was the old Dayton homestead.  We did not move our furniture.  One day, as grandma was working in her garden, she told me that there was a cemetery up in the field.  She said some people who used to own that farm were buried there.  Evidently, she did not know they were my great-grandparents.  My father must have known, but he did not hear our conversation. Besides, he did not do much talking. He was very busy trying to earn a living for his growing family. I never knew until about 50 years later whose graves were up there in the field. Imagine my surprise to learn that my great grandparents were buried there.

That was the summer the tornado crossed the valley in front of the house, making a path through the woods and removing a part of Uncle Alex White’s barn roof. He was living at the “vly”, later known as Bell Brook Club. Chester caught his first fish that summer. He was fishing in Dayton Creek across the road from grandma’s house. “I got him! I got him!” he yelled.

We attended Sunday school and worship services in the East Hadley Hill schoolhouse. Billy Green’s wife was the minister, but Billy preached sometimes. He was also the organist, playing a portable organ donated by Mr. Ripley. Rev. Sarah and Mr. Green held services Sunday morning in the West District schoolhouse. In the afternoon they came to the East District. No doubt they held an evening service in the Wesleyan church at Stony Creek. They lived in the parsonage in that village. While we were living at grandma’s house, we were about halfway between the 2 schoolhouses; so some Sundays I attended services at both places.

In the fall we went back to the Galey place, taking grandma with us. She was present for the birth of Wilber Thomas Jr. in October 29, 1916. On December 3rd she married Warren Dingman and went back to her own home. Nobody on Hadley Hill owned a car until about 1917. Uncle Will White was the first resident to buy an automobile. It was a Ford touring car. Although we had no car, we sometimes left home for a day or two. Conklingville, where mother’s sister Bertha Hurd and her family lived, was only about 4 miles away, if one liked to hike, using an abandoned road.

Occasionally dad would hook up the horse and take us up to West Day to visit his sister, Carrie and her husband, Dee Harris. Aunt Carrie wouldn’t sit down to eat until everyone was served. She would insist that you would put plenty of homemade butter on those delicious pancakes and then pour on maple syrup. Her neighbors were impressed by her gas refrigerator. That was before electrification reached their area. I was impressed by the Victrola and the Uncle Josh records. The separator amazed me too. Uncle Dee would come from the barn with milk, pour it into the top of the separator, and turn the crank. Cream and milk would come out of separate spouts! Aunt Carrie raised colts and helped with the barn chores. I thought it was strange to see her wearing men’s shoes.

I remember a trip to Greenwich to visit dad’s other sister, Jennie Dayton Roach and her husband Tom. We took this trip while we were living on Pine Street the first time. Dad, mother, Charles, Chester and I took the bus to Saratoga Springs, where we boarded another bus that took us to Schuylerville. Then we walked about 2 miles crossing the river to Thompson. From there a trolley took us to Greenwich. Then we walked two miles to Aunt Jennie’s farm. My new shoes skinned my heel; so I took them off and walked with bare feet. I remember being impressed by Aunt Jennie’s strutting peacock.

The summer of 1918 we lived on the Charley Kennedy place, which was adjacent to the other Kennedy place where we had resided when Charles was a baby. Dad had sold the Galey farm and was helping Frank Wood do the work on the Ripley farm (formerly Kennedy place). In the fall we moved back to Pine Street, Palmer Falls, so I could go to high school. We repossessed the house we thought we had sold. However, in less than two years we sold it again and moved up town to 11 Mechanic Street, where we were closer to the school, church, and stores. There Paul Delbert was born June 29, 1923. He grew up in that house. When he married Ruth Carter, the newlyweds set up housekeeping upstairs, while mother and dad lived downstairs. Paul and Ruth lived there until they built the home on West Mechanic St.

In my senior year of high school, Mother made arrangements for me to attend the teacher training class in Hudson Falls.    I was to live at the home of the Seventh Day Adventist minister.  During the summer, it was learned that I had been awarded a state scholarship which would provide $100 each year for four years of college.  Harris Crandall, the high school principal, persuaded Mother to let me attend State College at Albany.  Mother accompanied me to the city and found a suitable place for me to live.

My first teaching assignment was in Richmondville, where I taught Latin, History and Civics.  In my second year there, my health broke down and I returned home. The next September I began teaching in the West district on Hadley Hill, living with the Burnhams.  After three years, I started teaching at Porters Corners, but was unable to finish the term.  Much of that year I spent with Mildred and George Archer in Hadley.  In September 1932, I began teaching at Wolf Lake, living at home and driving my car to work.  In February 24, 1934, I married George Denton.   At his request, I resigned my teaching position.

My parents continued to live at 11 Mechanic St until July 18, 1957, when dad died at the age of 86. The following autumn mother went to live with Chester and his wife Elizabeth on Walnut Street. Mother passed away there in January 1958 at the age of 77. Although she had a colostomy in her 60’s, the cause of death was a stroke. For some time, her vision had been poor because of glaucoma.

I have mentioned my 4 brothers only incidentally. However, each has a big place in my heart. In their preteens, Chop and Chip took me over the cliff and down to their secret cave by the river. In later years, they transported me to Hadley Hill when I was teaching there. I remember those walks across the river and above the dam with Charles and Gladys. When I was 19, Chester and I rode bicycles to Greenwich to visit Aunt Jennie and Uncle Jim. Chester taught me to recognize various trees and shrubs. Wilbur was my right-hand man, always doing errands for me at a time when I was suffering from what I now recognize as agoraphobia. Later I was amazed at his scholastic attainments. Paul, who was nearly 18 years younger than I, was my baby brother. I admired his blue eyes and rosy cheeks. One day he surprised me by his dexterity in getting my automobile tire on the rim when I was unable to do so. These 4 fellows, were, and are, quite different in appearance and talents, but so alike in Christian character.

The White Family Photo Album

  DFH Volume 1 Issue 16

My dad, Paul Dayton, inherited a Photo Album.  Although never identified, it was obvious from the labeled photos that it was a White Family Album, probably organized and owned by Harriet [Frasier] White.  Harriet was the grandmother of Jessie Belle.  In it were many tin type photos which were unlabeled.  I hired a professional photo identification consultant to help me identify as many as possible.  She was very familiar with fashion and dress from all periods of decades of the 19th century.  She was equally proficient when it came to facial recognition.  Without getting into particulars, She and I were able to identify ancestors in many of the tintypes.   I’m not clear on how to present them to you, so I will do so over many newsletters….Here is the first installment.

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This is Hepzibah and Nahum White II.  Nahum was born in 1797 in Rowe, Massachusetts, and died in 1876 in Stony Creek, New York.  He was the great-grandfather of Jessie Belle [White] Dayton.  Hephzibah [Goodnow] White was the daughter of Stephen and Mary Goodnow.  Hephzibah was born in 1799 in Massachusetts and died in 1873 in Stony Creek, New York.  She is buried in the Schofield Cemetery, Stony Creek, New York.

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Remembering Corinth, Part 7-Life Revolved Around the Church

DFH Volume 1 Issue 16

Remembering Corinth, by Dave Hayes, is a ten-part series about Dave’s remembrances of Corinth in the late ‘50s.  Dave, a retired elementary teacher and guidance counselor (36 years), and part time adjunct professor in the Counseling Dept. at nearby West Chester Univ. (24 years-8 after his “first” retirement) lives in Pottstown, PA.  He and his wife, Kathleen, had four children, Heather, Jeremy, Emily (d.2008) and Benjamin.  He descends from Wilber Sr. as follows: Wilber Sr., Rev. Charles “Chop” Dayton, Isabelle “Izzie” [Dayton] Hayes, David Hayes.

Part 7 – Life Revolved Around the Church

School life and home life and exploring the town were secondary to the time spent in the Corinth Wesleyan Church.  Most of my memories that year are associated with time there and with the special people with whom I interacted at church.  Grampa would be up front in the pulpit leading the hymns with unmatched gusto or preaching with fervency & deep conviction or encouraging even the youth to give their testimonies during prayer meeting.  Gramma Jo would be sitting in the pews hoping Charles would not make a personal reference or she would be leading a women’s meeting or directing Vacation Bible School each summer.  I’d be in the back pews with Jimmy & Cammie & Keith trying to keep a low profile but still managing to goof around from time to time.  Everyone was SO friendly and welcoming from the beginning and we felt at home here right away.  There were folks that my Mom knew from her childhood & teen years, assorted cousins from both sides of her family and all those precious aunts and uncles who were glad to have Izzie around, if only for a season.  They were supportive and gracious, knowing how tough it was to have a husband so far away for so long.  That church enveloped us and made us “family” the minute we walked through the door.  We had Sunday School and church suppers in the recently completed Education Building and played softball in the summer and went ice skating in the winter out behind the church.  When it was time for Bible School, we gathered outside, lining up with our class behind our class banner.  We followed the American & Christian flags and the Bible into the sanctuary and pledged allegiance to each before singing the theme song for the year.  Then it was off to our classes for Bible stories, crafts, snacks and games.  Those two weeks were the highlight of my Corinth summer!  It wasn’t until years later, when I was directing my own church’s Bible School, that I again copied Gramma Jo’s formula for marches, pledges and opening songs.  What a wonderful tradition I learned there.

Tribute to John Dayton

DFH Volume 1 Issue 15

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January 12, 1955 – October 20, 2018

John’s Memorial Service and graveside burial were captured on video.  To view them click Here.  To view a musical-photo tribute, Click Here

John’s Eulogy

Good Afternoon, I’m John’s brother Jim, from Byron Center Michigan.  I moved away from Corinth when John was thirteen, so my contacts with John were infrequent.  We never spent much time together, but as I reflect on John’s life, I realize that I know a lot more about him than I thought I did.

Less than three weeks before John passed away , Judy and I were in Corinth, and had the privilege of spending a full day with him and his wife Lori.  It was a happy occasion for all of us, a day I’ll always cherish.  That day, it really struck home what an intricate, complex and giving man John was.  As the day progressed, it became apparent what made John tick

  • his love for Jesus
  • his love for Lori
  • and his love for his family. 

John’s frequent mention of his love of God in the year before his death, thrilled us, his brothers and sisters.

During his last year, when he faced his own mortality head on, John recognized how soon he could be in the presence of his Heavenly Father, and it was obvious that he had made his peace and was looking forward to his eternal homecoming.  

John and Lori had a passion for teaching and working with kids.  On that inspirational day we spent with them, conversation frequently returned to children’s ministry, and the crafts that were such an important part of it.  Crafts don’t just happen.  Many loving hours were spent making each piece of each unit.  John’s last craft was an eight-piece wooden frog.  He admired those frogs as if they were his masterpieces.  Come to think of it, they were.  All 90 of them.  He invented and produced different equally creative crafts for those children year after year.

I’ve shared only one example of John’s generosity.  His was not only a generosity of time; it was also a generosity of money. Once, in this very church you were part way into a fund-raising campaign for a building maintenance project.  You were still a stretch from meeting the goal.  John told the fund raisers, “Don’t worry about covering the gap to the goal.  I’ll make up the difference.”  He told me the amount and it was impressive.  That speaks to three noble traits he possessed;

1.       His Generosity.

2.       His faith that God would help him achieve his commitment.     

3.       His love for his community of faith… this local church.

On that special day we spent together, his number one priority, by far, even if he didn’t get anything else accomplished, was to give us a tour of his church and to introduce us to his pastor.  The rest of the day was secondary.

One day, within the last four years, I received a lengthy email from John.  That was most unusual. He had never written more than one or two sentences.  Judy and I read it together and just looked at each other.  We asked, “John wrote that?”  I don’t remember the contents, but I remember that it was the most eloquent email that I had read in a long, long time.  I remember saying to Judy, “Wow, I wish I could write that well.”   I’ve come to realize over the years just how intelligent John was.  He lacked self-confidence, and that masked a lot of what he was capable of.

John was a mechanical genius.  He took wrist watches apart and put them back together just for fun.  He made a wooden clock which kept accurate time.  Rubics cubes and other 3-dimensional puzzles were no challenge at all.  The man was brilliant.

John was fanatical about his New York Mets.  He wore Mets clothing wherever he went.  Years ago, he had a chance encounter with Howard Johnson, who was 3rd baseman for the Mets in the 1980’s.  The way John carried on you’d have thought he met the pope.  He was far more impressed with his oncologist’s passion for the Mets than for his ability to save John’s life. You knew he was a true fan because he even watched the west coast games till 1:30 in the morning.

John loved puttering of any kind.  His creations were classics of clever and unusual design.  He had one of the best equipped workshops anywhere in Corinth.

Well, That’s just a small peek into what my brother was all about.

Hey John… keep the lights on up there. I’ll be visiting you again soon, and I’ll be staying quite a long-time the next time we get together.  We will bow in awe before the face of God forever.

John, it’s an honor to be your brother.

Remembering Corinth, Part 6-Dirty Bucks and a Sawmill

DFH Volume 1 Issue 15

Remembering Corinth, by Dave Hayes, is a ten-part series about Dave’s remembrances of Corinth in the late ‘50s.  Dave, a retired elementary teacher and guidance counselor (36 years), and part time adjunct professor in the Counseling Dept. at nearby West Chester Univ. (24 years-8 after his “first” retirement) lives in Pottstown, PA.  He and his wife, Kathleen, had four children, Heather, Jeremy, Emily (d.2008) and Benjamin.  He descends from Wilber Sr. as follows: Wilber Sr., Rev. Charles “Chop” Dayton, Isabelle “Izzie” [Dayton] Hayes, David Hayes.

Part 6 – Dirty Bucks and a Sawmill

What makes a small town so compelling?  Sometimes it’s the time in which you find yourself there.  Or maybe it’s a local custom that is new and interesting.  And yet, perhaps it’s the location of a special place that keeps drawing you back time after time.  Corinth was all three of these things.  So here I am, a 5th grader in the late 50’s trying to find where I belonged in my adopted town and with the changing, rock-n-roll culture swirling around me.  I took a leap and begged my Mom to buy me a pair of dirty bucks.  Hey, if they were good enough for Pat Boone, they were good enough for me.  I strutted around in them until one day they got scuffed.  I panicked and then realized that they were supposed to be “dirty,” so I relaxed and enjoyed my venture into 50’s fashion even if I was way up here in northern NY.  I also discovered a unique custom in Corinth—May Day.  According to tradition, we would find little baskets, fill them with homemade goodies or candies to deliver to special people around town on May 1st.  But here’s the trick: it’s a secret who they are from.  So you sneak up to the door, deposit the May basket on the porch, ring the doorbell and run.  The idea is to hide nearby to see the person’s surprise to find the unexpected treat.  I remember, in particular, that we gave one to a very sweet lady from the church, Aunt Daisy, and she was so pleased to be remembered.  What a loving tradition…I still wish we did that.  My other remembrance was the times I spent just outside of town at the Dayton Brothers sawmill.  What an awesome place that was, with the tower of sawdust, the piles of wooden beams perfect for hide-and-seek, the sounds of the saw cutting the trees into long planks and, always, the friendly greetings from my uncles, Paul & Chip.  I adored those two men, and they returned my admiration with open arms and warm smiles.  My visits there were magical and I would go as often as I could. 

Dayton Brothers Sawmill 1955

Jessie Dayton…Women’s Equality Before Her Time

DFH Volume 1 Issue 15

Before she was married, and at the age of 24, Jessie was named to be Sunday School superintendent of the newly organized Hadley Sunday School in District 4 on Hadley Hill.  This district was a one-room schoolhouse located toward West Mountain from the general populace at the top of Hadley Hill. Her daughter, Flossie [Dayton] Denton, taught there years later. Jessie’s appointment to such an important position of leadership in the local church is noteworthy.  In the latter half of the 19th century until the time of prohibition, the Wesleyan Methodist Church was a progressive denomination, leading the way in woman’s rights.  Woman’s Rights convention, organized by Elizabeth Cady Stanton, convened July 19-20, 1848, in the Wesleyan Methodist Chapel in Seneca Falls, New York and was attended by 200 women.  Stanton joined forces with Susan B. Anthony two years later, and the rest is history.  In nearly every other protestant denomination, women were not allowed in church teaching and preaching because of strict adherence to Paul’s instruction in I Timothy 3:11-12, well into the 20th century. My denomination, Christian Reformed, is still struggling with this issue.  The Wesleyan Methodist Church was very progressive in those days.  From their inception to the late 1800’s,  the Wesleyan Methodists were at the cutting edge of woman’s rights, including woman’s rights in church leadership positions.  Jessie White was an example of this.  Jessie [White] Dayton began her “ministry” in 1904 and continued in church teaching and leadership positions into the 1940’s.

Jessie’s commitment to her church was commendable.  The Wilber Dayton family attended Sunday morning worship at the Corinth Wesleyan church.  Then they were at the Hadley Wesleyan Methodist Church, five miles from home, by the time church started at 2 pm.  After church was over in Hadley, they hurried back to Corinth to attend evening service.  Talk about Sunday being a day of rest!  Not for the Wilber T Dayton family. It was likely a day of stress.  Since grampa didn’t have a car, it’s not clear how they got to Hadley and back. They may have walked, or someone from Hadley may have picked them up.  There was no time for the traditional Sunday dinner after church.

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