Sunday, January 31, 2010
Stanzel Days- 1968 to 1978
Lois Cutbirth and her seven children. All the children were involved in the ministry over the years.
For 10 years, a little experiment of a Christian boarding school existed along Highway 92, located between Winterset and Greenfield Iowa. Even today, the original school building stands... sagging and unattended for over 30 years. A sign out front still proclaims Stanzel Christian High School; but no book has been opened or no meals prepared for students since closing in 1978. For those who gave money and time in the late 60's to open the doors, some may look at their efforts as wasted; this blog is to tell men like Cecil Whistler, Clair Rogers, and others, "Thanks". It is also a big thanks to all the teachers who gave of their years to pour into a couple hundred young people's lives.
The glory years of Stanzel were the years of the Cutbirths; along with Bob and Lois, Ray Block, and others saw the vision and they too poured their heart and soul into getting this baby of a school going and on its feet. I was able to attend in 1969, the second year Stanzel was open. The first year, about 23 students left the safe, public school system to try this alternative education system. This was 20 years before the homeschool movement began to pick up momentum. The late 60's cultural revolution was forcing parents to look for an alternative to the school system that was being infiltrated with drugs, Vietnam unrest, and wild rock and roll.
Gas was $.29 a gallon, a pizza was a dollar, a pop was $.10 and a candy bar a nickel. Truly those were the good old days. Visits to the nearby Ramseys service station were guarded; there was a fear that perhaps the local farmers might swear or spit tobacco our way. As students, we loved the atmosphere of the locals: Worth Ramsey.. the owner, and his sons, Sonny and Hugh; one a mechanic/farmer, the other a hard drinking farmer that drank and swore too much. We loved getting away after class and slipping over and drinking a pop or eating a candy bar.
At 14 years of age, I was making decisions and living on my own like most 18 year olds were allowed to do when leaving for college. Some how, a group of young people from all over Iowa and the midwest, came together, lived under one roof with one dorm counselor, and became bonded and friends for life. It wasn't perfect; there were young men and women who came in troubled and left troubled. There were students who did not make it past the first month because of behavior issues. There were those students who came, lacking skills and abilities who left richly rewarded and with direction and purpose in their lives.
Who would have thought that young people like Steve Canter, Randy Larson, DeDe Crow and myself would have gone into full time ministry. Steve Canter is now a missionary in Japan; Randy Larson has been a preacher for over 30 years; DeDe and I have been at Hidden Acres for over 25 years. Each of us would say, "Stanzel days saved us... it gave us direction... it made a student out of us... it solidified our faith"
By far the most influential people at Stanzel were Bob and Lois Cutbirth along with Ray Block. Each one so different in their approach, but each one ordained to be there at that particular time. It was Lois who took a rag-tag group of singers and made it a choir that did a little travelling to events and churches. It was Bob who administered the school, cast the vision, disciplined the students, raised the money, encouraged the staff, and met with the very conservative board. It was Ray Block who introduced students for the first time to creative thinking... outside the box kind of thinking. These were pre-psychology years... but Ray was ahead of his time. He was ministry minded before others.
Ray Block is still impacting and influencing young lives
As fast as the school developed, it ended just as abruptly; not much explanation by the school board: one fall day in 1971 we had teachers, and the next day, several were let go. Nobody ever really knew the details; only that it wasn't the same after that day. I left at the end of the first semester and returned to public school after staying 3 years at Stanzel. DeDe ended up attending all 4 years and graduating from Stanzel the next spring. The school continued on for a few more years; I returned in 1977 and taught English, German and PE. DeDe returned also that year to teach music and be the girls dorm counselor. We married at the end of the school year in 1978. The school never opened again.
I tell you about Stanzel not to lift it up as the perfect example of a ministry; there were plenty of things that went wrong. I tell you about Stanzel to remind us that, regardless of any of our current situations, great things can happen when we are faithful. The Cutbirths and the Blocks... they were faithful. Did they do everything right... probably not... but in spite of our efforts, God is able to take little conversations, small encounters and make them huge on the spiritual impact scale.
To Lois Cutbirth and to Ray Block... I thank you. Lois is now 85 years old and Ray, must be 70ish: I want to publicly tell you how much you meant to me. Your efforts were not in vain.
And to those who are serving in out-of-the-way places; you wonder if your efforts will amount to anything: I encourage you to remain faithful in the work you were called to; there will be those around you who will come along later... and write you letters of thanks for how and what your poured into their lives.
Written by
Earl Taylor, Director of Design and Vision
Hidden Acres Christian Center
...a youth camp and retreat center in central Iowa
Hidden Acres is owned by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Picture of the Week
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Dear old Aunties
Auntie Elsie, Aunt Betty, and Auntie Gladys- another year older!
We all have them... dear old aunties that poured out love to us when we were children. I had 5 of them on my dad's side. Two of them just celebrated their 96th and 93rd birthdays this week. Let me share with you my memories.
Auntie Peg. One of a kind. Loud, opinionated, with a memory for obsure details of the past. She knew everybody and everybodies business. I lived with her while in college for 6 months; it was there I grew to love this unusual lady who was a bit brash on the exterior, but a gentle, loving soul on the inside. Aunt Peg passed away a few years ago at 93 year of age. When we were children, we didn't like staying with Aunt Peg... as an adult, we loved being around her and hearing her stories and listening to our family history.
Auntie Gladys is the second to oldest... she turned 96 this week. She was the care-giver. From the world's view, Auntie never did anything huge in her life; she stayed home and cared and nurtured her family, and doing it so well. Uncle Bill, her husband, was one of my favorites. A fisherman, a quail hunter, a talker. It was this auntie that cared for us many a Friday nights as we laid around her house after our weekly trip to the laundry mat with my dad; she fed us, she mended our jeans, she mothered us.
Auntie Elsie turned 93 this week. Auntie Elsie was the happy one; always laughing; always excited about birds and flowers. She lived on the farm outside of Kellogg in a big house with lots of rooms. You wanted to be around Aunt Elsie because you knew your spirits would be lifted. She was married to Uncle Roy; a great farmer, but just the oposite of Auntie... gruff, frugal and impatient. Never have I seen a couple so opposite in their dispositions. Never have I seen a lady enjoy spending her late husband's saved money after he passed away. What fun for us to see our dear auntie get out and enjoy her life with traveling late in her life.
Auntie Anne... the kissing auntie. We knew we were going to be lavished with lip-sticked-kisses when we met and left this auntie. She was the beautiful one; her hair, her makeup, he whole demeanor shouted glamour. We loved seeing auntie as a kid; she loved everyone of my 23 first cousins; she never remembered our faults and shortcomings, but poured out love and affection to everyone, every time she saw us. We loved going to her house; we always felt like a king in her palace.
Aunt Betty... she turns 72 in early February, the youngest and the last of 8 kids born to my grandma and grandpa. Aunt Betty was different from the rest; she became a single mother in the early 60's. She never married, but had the one daughter. Aunt Betty grew on us. We never stayed at her home as a child, but later learned to love her for who she was; a staunch Democrat, a smoker, and a great cook.
As I reflect this week about the birthdays of my four living aunties, I am glad they were/are apart of my life. I have had 3 aunties that have lived into their 90's, each one living through 2 world wars, each one leaving a wonderful legacy in my mind. I pray I can do likewise and influence my nephews and nieces with love and kindness and kisses and encouragement as they grow up in a very different world than I did.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
The Red Dress
I was 5 at the time; my sister Vivian would have been 7. We both were attending the same school in Grinnell Iowa: Cooper Elementary. Cooper Elementary no longer exists but a newer Fareway store has been built over the site.
In those days, 1960, girls wore dresses to school. If for some reason the weather was bitterly cold, pants could be worn under the dress. There were strict dress codes for all students.
This must of took place after our mother left us; Dad had custody of 4 young children; he worked at Donaldson's factory in Grinnell while raising 4 kids in a cold, old farmhouse. During that first winter, Grandma Taylor came up from Missouri to help with the household chores and be there when we arrived home on the bus.
Vivian brought home a note from her teacher one day asking if she could stay after school. The teacher had said she would bring her home. Permission was granted. Discipline? Extra help on homework? No... shopping.
We don't recall the teacher's name, only the act. She took this little 7 year old, who probably didn't have a decent dress at the time, up town and bought her a simple red dress.
I have often thought of the impact this wonderful gesture by a kind, sensitive teacher must have made on this young child who must have missed out on a mother's fussing over her school clothes for her.
Reminder to me: Watch for opportunities to create a "Red Dress" moment in the lives of children. Acts of kindness to a 7 year old that needs a little extra love may become one the pillars that could shape a child's perspective all their lives.
I know... I remember... and I know my sister remembers.
Written by
Earl Taylor, Director of Design and Vision
Hidden Acres Christian Center, Dayton, Iowa
Hidden Acres is a youth camp and retreat center and is owned and operated by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
One Last Trout
It is a cold,snowy day today; my thoughts are on future Springs and past Springs: the following story is from 2008, written after my dad passed away in June.
We had been saying for years, “This could be our last trout fishing together.” Finally, it came true this spring. Dad turned 80 in February, and had spent a good part of the late winter in and out of the hospital with old age infirmities; his body was worn out.
We headed to Waterloo Creek near Dorchester; this was a stream that Dad had grown to love to fish; he had one hole he particularly enjoyed sitting over. My brother Randy and I loaded Dad and his scooter chair up, and headed north from our cabin for what was to be the last trout fish.
It was a sunny day; we arrived before the stocking truck arrived. We were the first ones in and we were able to secure dad’s favorite hole. The stocking truck arrived by the time we had our equipment unpacked and poles readied to fish. Dad caught his last five trout that morning. He never moved from his chair the entire time he fished; we handed him bait, retrieved his fish and put them on a stringer, and brought him drinks and sandwiches.
We almost forgot to take a picture; but now are so thankful we had Dad pose with his last catch. That was the last time Dad sat along the banks of an Iowa trout stream; it all started in 1964 when a friend invited Dad to use his little school house cabin along Wexford Creek, south of Lansing. For 44 years, Dad had hauled his boys, his grandsons, and old hunting buddies to the cabin to try their luck on these small ribbons of streams that the DNR keep stocked weekly with hatchery raised trout: browns and rainbows mostly.
Dad only caught one lunker trout in 44 years; a 5 pound rainbow; and even this by accident. I had hooked the trout earlier with my cane pole and bobber, but it didn’t take long before I was stripped of line, hook and bobber; too much fish and not enough pole. Dad was throwing a spinner when he hooked my broken line and bobber, wrapping the line up in his spinner. After 20 minutes of working the fish, Dad dragged it onto shore. But, he was just as happy catching 12 inch rainbows that glistened when fresh out of the water; to Dad every trout was a blessing and a thing of beauty to behold.
We will return to the cabin again this spring to do a little more fishing,turkey hunting and seek for mushrooms; but we will also make our way up the path from the trout stream at Wexford and visit Dad’s nearby grave. It was Dad’s wish to be buried in the Catholic cemetery overlooking the Wexford stream and right down the bluff where Dad shot so many spring gobblers; it was as if he wanted to be able to hear one more trout break water for a gadfly or catch one more gobbler announce the morning off the roost.
Welcome home Dad. May spring come soon!
Written by
Earl Taylor, Director of Vision and Design
Hidden Acres Christian Center, Dayton Iowa
Hidden Acres is the youth and family camp of the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri
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