A Life Change — A Name Change

December 21, 1921

A thin young man walked hesitantly toward Jack, one of his gambling buddies. He expected the question he would be asked.

"Hi, H. B. Watcha doin' t'night?" his friend asked.

"For two cents, I'd go to that church in Youngsville where they're havin' some kind of special meetin's," was H. B.'s reply.

"Ya gotta be kiddin. H. B. wants to go to church? Now that's news! I thought you were a toughie?" Jack responded, in shock.

"Well, I'm curious about why just goin' to a church changed George, that fellow we used to see in the bars. He's really different. Told me he got saved. I want to find out why he did whatever it was he did."

"You really are serious, aren't you?" Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out his hand, and said, "Okay, H. B., open your mitt. Here's your two cents."

He honestly didn't want to go to church. Maybe he was afraid. But now to keep his word H. B. had to go. By seven-thirty, he and two of his buddies were seated in the United Brethren Church in Youngsville, Pennsylvania. This felt strange since none of them had been in a church for years. They liked the lively music and tried to sing. The songbooks helped, since they did not know the songs. Mr. Thompson (they later learned he was a song evangelist) sang, "What If It Were Today?" It told of Christ's return to claim those who had been living for Him. Then, the evening message came that emphasized the hope of heaven for those forgiven and the eternal punishment for those living in sin. Recalling the wicked life he had been living the last six years, H. B. felt like he was suspended over hell.

It all started a few years earlier. His father had been a foreman in a chemical factory. One day a pile of one-hundred-and-thirty pound bags slipped and fell on him. His severe injuries followed by pneumonia, took his life.

At thirteen years of age H. B.'s life changed. The one who had been his guide, his protector and his teacher was gone. Within six months his mother had remarried. The next two years were a tug-of-war for him in their home. He did not get along well with his step-brothers, step-sisters or his step-father. One of his stepsisters got pregnant, so of course he was blamed, even thought he was not the guilty party. Finally, when he became fed-up with all the struggles, he left home around sixteen years of age.

Soon he began carrying a pistol, riding a stallion, shooting out street lights, drinking, smoking, swearing, and living a wild life. He slept in barns or stayed with relatives until he could earn enough money to rent a room at a boarding house. His Irish mother said to him, "Clesson, you're the black sheep of the family. Your murderous wild heart will cause you to kill someone, or you will be killed yourself. There's no question that you'll end up in prison, or possibly the electric chair."

All of this was going through his mind that night at church. He really did not need a preacher to remind him of his wicked life. These were the reasons he was called, "H. B". His life was a mess, and he was sick of living that way. For a long time he had tried to quit smoking because he could see what it was doing to his body. For a long time he had wished he could live a happy, peaceful life, like some people he knew. For a long time he had wondered if his life could ever be changed. Now, he began to understand that God did care for him and could do what had seemed impossible.

The congregation sang another song, and the preacher invited people who wanted their lives changed to come forward to the altar. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, and he was shaking. A couple of elderly ladies could sense that God was speaking to him. They came to him, kindly urging him to go forward, but he did not have the courage.

When the service was over, they quickly left as some of the church people went forward to pray with those kneeling at the altar. His buddies told him later that at least ten times he stopped walking and turned around toward the church as though he would return, but he did not go back. Finally, he got to his boarding house. When he got to bed, sleep evaded him. "I'm hanging over hell. If I die tonight, that's where I'd go," were his thoughts, continually.

In desperation he tried to pray. This was new to him, but God understood his sad and hungry heart. "If you let me live one more night, God, I'll go to the altar." (God did, and he did.) After making that promise, H. B. finally slept.

The next night it was the same kind of service, but H. B. was not the same young man who had come the night before. He was determined that no matter how much courage it took, he would head for the altar, as soon at the preacher gave the message and the invitation. When the congregation stood to sing the invitational song, he walked to the front of the church and knelt at the altar. This was his chance to dump all the filth in his life.

He had no idea how the process worked, but he believed God could change him. He knew God could free him from his slavery to Satan and to evil habits. He asked God to forgive him, to change him, and he promised to follow him. Within fifteen minutes he sensed he was free. What a wonderful feeling of relief and release! He got up, and sat down on a front seat.

Reverend Driscoll, pastor of the church said, "Young man would you like to tell us what God has done for you?"

H. B. had no idea how to tell what had happened to him, so he just said, "Well, boys, I was way down in sin, but the Lord has saved me." Too overcome with emotion to say anything more, he sat down.

What a change took place in his life! His addictions to gambling, smoking, drinking, and wild living were taken away instantly. Like George, he no longer frequented the bars. He quit smoking and toting a gun. His conversion took place nine days before his twenty-first birthday.

* * *

Doug's explanation of the initials H.B.

Dad spoke very little about his wild years before he became a Christian. He was not proud of those years. In 1944 he became a bi-vocational pastor, eventually living on property he and Mother bought. On Sunday he served rural Methodist congregations and during the week Larry was a mechanic at the Buckeye Coal Co. mine at Nemacolin. April 1st was Mitchell Day so it was a holiday for all miners. Dad would often take a trip to northern Pennsylvania to visit his family about this time. Some of those years his mode of transportation was a Jeep, an ideal vehicle for crawling over Greene County hills from one point of a pastoral circuit to another. But it was hardly the best transportation for a trip of one-hundred-and-eighty-four miles, so Mother decided not to go. I was the only one of the children still at home at that time.

Dad wanted to show me some of the places where he and his buddies 'bummed around' so we went to a little store in Spring Creek. Going up to a very elderly gentleman, Dad asked, "Say, does the name Jewell register with you?" Looking at Dad with an amazed expression on his face, he said, "Are you HB Jewell?" Immediately my thoughts were, "He has Dad confused with someone else; Dad's initials are LC." Then I heard Dad respond, "Yes, that's who I use to be, but God changed my life. Now I'm a preacher."

"Well, how about that! HB a preacher." Later I asked Dad what this HB bit was all about. "Doug, I was a part of a group of boys known as the Spring Creek Wild Boys. There were five of us. I was probably the worst of the group, and was known throughout this area as Hell-Bent Jewell, eventually just HB."

As a very young teenager I thought this was funny. As I got older, though, I realized what had been my Dad's life when he was only a few years older than I, and it didn't seem so funny. I was glad his life had changed because if it had not, the lives of the children born to him would have been quite different.

Soon this changed young man began attending the Free Methodist Church in Youngsville, Pennsylvania. The pastor was Lewis J. Lindsey, a very fiery preacher who became an evangelist. A dear Christian lady, Sister Horner, became his spiritual mother, mentoring and guiding him in his first steps as a Christian.

Larry was given a Sunday school class of unruly boys to teach. This challenged him to think about one or two objects he could use to perk their interest. (The fact that he was using some type of visual aid to help the boys understand the lesson was unknown to him. He just knew that the method worked.) The boys eagerly anticipated what he would bring the next Sunday. They began bringing their friends, and the class rapidly grew. Larry was fairly good at drawing, and began making chalk drawings to illustrate a lesson, and later, sermons that he would preach.

A district elder, R. B. Campbell, saw in Larry a potential that he would never have recognized in himself. He became a father to this new young Christian. Through his influence, Larry, eventually went to the southern part of the state and began helping a little village congregation in Hopwood, Pennsylvania. It was a daughter church started in 1920, by two couples from the Free Methodist Church of the city of Uniontown, some three miles away. This little town at the base of the Allegheny Mountains was to be his home for two years.

"Sunshine ..."

Mary Edith King was the eldest girl in an ever-increasing family. (Eventually eleven children were born, but two girls died in early childhood.) Her chores of cleaning, cooking, laundry, and serving were never done. But she was also active outside the family home.

Mary was the Larkin Co. salesperson in her area. She supplied spices, cosmetics, and cleaning items to her clients. Her efforts were so successful that she was awarded a beautiful long cedar chest. This became her "hope chest" into which she placed items for her future wedding and home.

In addition, Mary was very active in her church, the Uniontown, Pennsylvania Free Methodist Church. Her parents, Julius Clark and Fannie Mae King, were half of the founding four of the church. As a young teenager, she took a training course to become a Sunday school teacher.

Joe Cleaton, a young man from the church, had shown an interest in Mary. One Saturday he appeared in his "car" and invited her to take a ride with him. His "car" was nothing but the chassis — wheels, motor, steering mechanism, and a seat, no sides, back, or roof. Mary's response was, "There's no way I'll be paraded around town in your car. And besides, this is Saturday. I have to help get food ready for Sunday and get clothes ready for the children for church." He knew Mary meant what she said, so he angrily drove away. Uniontown is at the foothills of the Allegheny Mountains. As he headed up the road, he lost control of the vehicle, and it overturned. Joe was killed. Had Mary accompanied him this chapter probably could never have been written.

* * *

In 1923, many Free Methodist church families in the Uniontown District were excited about attending the district quarterly meeting at Belle Vernon, about twenty-eight miles from Uniontown. The host church was responsible for providing meals for all attending, as well as finding lodging for people who lived a distance from the location and could not go home each night and return the next day. Many people did not yet own a car. People of the community as well as members of the local church helped provide for the visitors. Large numbers of people meeting at a small local church aroused plenty of curiosity.

The first service was scheduled for Thursday night. Friday and Saturday had morning, afternoon, and evening services planned at which pastors from the district preached or pastors from other districts were guests. On Sunday morning, the sermon would be presented by the district elder.

Sunday evening, a "love feast" was to be held. Those participating would go to the open area between the altar and the front seats. Each would take a piece of bread from the plate and would begin mingling through the group. A person would go to another person and each would take a small pinch of bread off the other's piece and eat it. If there were any hard feelings, bitterness, or ill will between them, they would ask for forgiveness. A time of testimonies followed, and fellowship was enriched.

J.C. King covered the bed of his wagon with blankets and pillows so several people could ride there. He and another man rode on the seat to steer the horses. As they rode toward Belle Vernon, Mary King could not know that as long as she had memory, she would never forget this event.

At the first service, the district elder, R. B. Campbell, presented Lawrence Clesson Jewell to the congregation. The thin young man was introduced as the person serving as pastor to the small congregation at Hopwood, three miles from Uniontown. The Kings had heard of him, since the Hopwood church had been started by two couples from the Uniontown church. Mary noted that the young man had dark-rimmed glasses, wavy hair, and a pleasant smile.

After the first service, J. C. King introduced himself, his family and all he had brought with him to the new young pastor. "Stop at our home when you're in Uniontown. I have a fairly good library and would be glad to loan you some books you'll need in your course of study toward ordination."

Soon the young man was a frequent visitor at the King home. The knowledge of general church history as well as that of the Free Methodist Church that the older man shared was stimulating to Lawrence. Their discussions on biblical topics, doctrine, and church practices were continually broadening his understanding. J. C. King not only loaned him many books on the required reading list, but also gave him some books to help him start his own library.

An adequate personal library was very important for an effective pastor, Lawrence soon realized. A curiosity about the treasures in God's written Word, the Bible, and a deep desire to express his own ideas and Christian concepts in a clear, effective way were lighting a fire in the heart and mind of this young pastor.

Sometimes these mentoring sessions with J. C. King extended into the late afternoon and evening and Lawrence was invited to stay for meals and even overnight. The third floor of the King home was for the boys, and they made a place for him.

Over a period of time, Lawrence and Mary became quite aware of each other. When there was an opportunity, they would chat together. He asked permission to write to her when he would not be able to see her for several days. She saved his letters.

In studying those letters to her, it is evident that this young man who had not even finished eighth grade was learning how to express himself well. There was even improvement in his handwriting. (It's amazing what miracles are accomplished by motivation!)

Initially they both were very formal in their relationship. Mary addressed him as "Brother Jewell" for several months. His letters to her progressed from "Dear Sister King" to "Dear Mary", to "Dearest Mary" and "Dear Wife-to-Be." In one of his letters, he wrote, "You never call me 'Lawrence', just 'Brother Jewell'. I would like you to use my name."

Lawrence noticed that she was always very cautious in making decisions. He greatly appreciated that characteristic in her. In contrast, he often made decisions very quickly. "God will use our differences to work better for Him," he wrote.

As they were able, they prayed together. Finally Lawrence asked her to marry him. Her response was, "There is much to be considered." That was the understatement of the year!

Both were keenly aware of their differences. Mary had been a Christian since childhood. The King home was a totally God-centered environment. Also, frequent church attendance was a part of the family routine: Sunday school and worship service in the morning and the evening; mid-week services (one or two); extended revival meetings; local quarterly meetings; and the larger district quarterly meetings. During the summer, ten-day camp meetings were an important part of the King family's life.

In contrast, the young man wanting to marry her had only been a Christian for about two and a half years. It was obvious to Mary and her father that Lawrence was an eager sincere Christian and Bible student delighted with all he was learning. But could she justify this as enough to marry him? They sensed that they were attracted to each other. Each felt comfortable in the company of the other. They were even close to each other in age: his birthday was January 1, 1901, and hers was January 28, 1901, just twenty-seven days after his.

They agreed to fast and pray for God's guidance. The night they made a commitment to each other, she gave him a pansy. As he walked back to Hopwood that night, he fell into a ditch. After finally getting out, he at last got home. However, there was still a big hurdle ahead. They would have to get permission to marry from her father.

J. C. King was a very tall man whose walk was always erect. One could sense that he knew what he was doing. His surname was King, and there was something regal about him. As a lay preacher, he was authorized to conduct a service when no pastor was available. Regularly he conducted an adult Sunday school class in the church that he helped start.