Excerpts from three letters by Orin W. Jarvis:
Family letter dated August 1, 1937
Family letter dated October 2, 1937
undated Family letter
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From a family letter dated August 1, 1937 It seems hardly possible that it was just 40 years ago today that I landed in my mission field, at Radford, Virginia, for many of the incidents of that day are still fresh in my memory. You remember that we were instructed to travel without purse and script, and so we left our extra money at the, Mission headquarters office in Chattanooga, taking a ticket through to Bristol on the Tennessee-Virginia line, where we were instructed to buy our tickets to Radford [Virginia] at clergy rates on presentation of our ministerial certificates. Well, the office force at Chattanooga had made a miscalculation of nearly $2.00 and had not given us enough money to buy the tickets from Bristol on to Radford, and when we shelled out every penny and even our postage stamps, we still lacked about $1.85 each of having enough to buy our tickets. At first the ticket agent seemed to think we were trying to work him, but after we had shown him our letters of instruction in which the miscalculation was evident, and we had assured him we had the necessary funds at the office, and would have it forwarded immediately, he finally relented and told us we were the first passengers over his R.R. for whom he had felt soft hearted enough to buy tickets out of his own pocket for over 10 years, but he believed we were honest even the despised Mormons (we had explained to him our missionary system in detail) and he believed he would get his money refunded. Well, at last we got our tickets and with prayers of thankfulness we continued on our way, arriving at Radford about 11 A.M. We were heavily loaded with extra mission supplies of books and tracts etc., which our conference president needed, but on which postage could be saved by sending them with us. With our Prince Albert coats, plus hats, umbrellas and the usual Mormon missionary leather hand bag, plus numerous and sundry packages of tracts, books, and mission supplies we unloaded perspiringly at Radford, but could see no similarly garbed Mormon Elders there to meet us, When at last the crowd all left the depot we surely felt like two babes in the woods, and were, as the Book of Mormon story goes "compelled to be humble" (Alma 32) and we sincerely asked the Lord for guidance. About noon we saw a congregation dispersing from a nearby church, and finally we mustered up courage to ask them if they knew anything of the whereabouts of some Mormon missionaries. We were told that the had held a cottage meeting during the past week at West Radford, "west end", 3 miles away, and so we trudged thither with our bags and bundles, perspiring freely but not melting down our celluloid collars and cuffs. We finally reached the designated district and felt impressed to inquire at a "friendly looking home" as I described it and there were told that the Elders had held meetings there and then had stayed over night with the occupants "just last Thursday". We were invited in to rest a while and then, leaving our excess baggage, we started out to try to find the Elders who had left without telling them where they were going. We went north to a toll bridge over the river that bisects the town from east to west and there learned that the Elders had crossed over it on Friday and we persuaded the gate keeper to let us by without charge, as we had no money. We continued on and at the very next "friendly looking home" and newly painted, we made inquiry and found the Elders had called on Friday and we were invited in to eat a "snack" with them. We gladly accepted, as that late afternoon meal was the first we had eaten since leaving Chattanooga the day previous. After eating we started on, prayerfully seeking Divine guidance and passed almost through the next suburb before seeing any more homes that looked friendly. When at last I felt impressed to go up to a humble log cabin and made inquiry, my companion kidded me a lot, declaring I was sampling all kinds, as the first one at which we called had been a medium type home, the 2nd one of the better class, and this one of the most humble looking unpretentious home. A man came out to the gate to meet us, and when I asked about the Mormon Elders he replied, "Yes, brethren come on in, they baptized me and my family yesterday and have gone to the adjoining county to hold meetings today as they didn't expect you new Elders until Tuesday." Well, we spent the night with him and met the other Elders the next day. But we surely had a lot of faith promoting experiences that first day in our field of labor, traveling without purse or script as the Lord had softened the heart of the R.R. agent to help us get to our destination and then guided us to the three houses in succession where the Elders had been entertained on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday preceding. We had nothing to boast of for we were penniless and just had to be humble and listen to the spirit's promptings.
From a family letter dated October 2, 1937 In January, 1898, Elder D.H. Saunders of Salt Lake City, and I were at Roanoke County, Va., and our conference president, John S. Blaine, of Spring City, Utah, told us to "go to Halifax". We did, landing a few days later at Houston, the County seat, that had been left uncanvassed by the Elders who had previously worked in that County. I had but recently helped to canvas Salem, in Roanoke Co., where its residents had boasted that no Mormons could canvas without purse or s cript and not starve to death. But the longest we went without eating in Salem was 62 hours, but we completed the town holding public meetings and got by without any mobbings tho but a few years previously a mob had been raised there to try to drive the Mormons from that county, after the Elders had organized a Branch of the church at Haren, a mountain community a few miles up in the hills. Well, Houston gave us a cool reception, refusing us the use of churches, halls, and schools, but we were determined to hold meetings there, so finally arranged for the free use of an empty tobacco warehouse, and from a nearby lumber yard we borrowed enough slabs and rough lumber to improvise seats for the three or four dozen people we were able to induce to attend meetings during January in an unheated warehouse to hear the unpopular Mormons. We canvassed not only the town but also the suburban territory and the last day the crowd expressed a preference for the sunny side of the house out in the street rather than the cold interior. We felt almost discouraged, for we seemed to be able to find no one really interested in our message but between the early afternoon session and the night meeting we made a last effort to raise a better crowd, so got out into the suburbs and canvassed and at one home were talked to as tho we were dogs. We passed it off as a joke, and finally got the man to accept a tract and he also promised to come out at our final meeting that night. He kept his promise and after the meeting asked a number of questions, accepted additional tracts and bought a Voice of Warning [a tract in common use then]. Next morning we moved to the southern part of the county to continue our labors in the vicinity of South Boston, Clarksville and Redbank, where there were a few scattered members of the church, feeling that we had done our duty in sowing the Gospel seed at the County seat and trusting to the Lord to see that it had not been in vain. We met both ardent friends and bitter enemies in our new field of labor (which we greatly preferred to the indifference we had encountered at Houston) and arranged for a series of cottage meetings at homes in various localities. While canvassing and distributing tracts in one district (several miles southeast of South Boston) and inviting the folks to attend our cottage meeting at the house of a recent convert one man abused us and ordered us off his land, and threatened to "shoot your damned eyes out" unless we left immediately by the road we had entered, and we explained that we were going on to the next farm across the hollow to the north, where we were to hold meeting that night, and expected to follow the foot path there, instead of going back by the road that would mean several miles farther to travel to reach our destination. When the irate farmer started for the house, declaring he would get his gun and make us obey orders, we retreated, pretending we were going back the way we had come, but soon cut across the hollow through the woods to avoid the onger walk by the road. When about half way across the wooded ravine, we heard a charge from a shot gun whiz past our heads and some partridges noisily took to the air. We remarked on the carelessness of some hunters and thought nothing more of it till a few days later we noticed that the little leather grip I had been carrying over my right shoulder at the time of the careless hunter episode was perforated by a lot of shot holes, and I found several shot pellets lodged among the tracts and books in the grip. We had a good meeting that night, and some friends warned us that it was not safe for us to remain long in that community, as the farmer to the south and some others were threatening to mob us unless we were protected by our friends. After several interesting experiences I was transferred from Virginia to Georgia, then to Ohio and by the time six years had elapsed I was in charge of the missionary Department of the B.Y.A. at Provo. We always utilized all returned missionaries available, asking them to narrate their experiences, etc. And one day we had with us an Elder Russon. from Lehi, who had but recently returned from a mission in Virginia. He emphasized the impossibility of our knowing just how much good we were doing when in the mission field, quoting that passage about Paul planting, Apollos watering, and God giving the increase. He told us that he had worked with one companion who did not even know the names of the Elders that converted him, as be had at first insulted them, then yielded to their persuasion to accept a tract, and went to their final meeting of a series they had been holding, bought a Voice of Warning and then wrote to Mission head quarters and applied for baptism. Elder Russon started to tell how his companion had insulted the Mormon Elders and I finished the story, repeating the conversation so that Russon knew that Saunders and Jarvis were the Elders in question. However, this convert was baptized, emigrated to Utah, and after a few years was sent back to his home county on a mission where he baptized 27 of his farmer friends and neighbors near Houston, where we felt our time had almost been wasted. Russon then asked if we also had labored near Redbank and had been threatened with a shot gun in the hands of an irate farmer. He reported that the farmer who had done the threatening that he would shoot our eyes out had, himself gone blind and was talking the whole community that we had put a spell on him, that we were witches, that powder and load did not even make us "move off" on a walk. He was warning all his friends to leave the Mormons alone, else they might get a spell put on by the Mormon witches. These incidents, unrecorded at the time of happening, later turned out to be of considerable importance and are just as truly remarkable as others recorded and published among the faith promoting booklets of older days. The shot perforated leather grip I brought home with me from the mission field and not till about1904 or 1905 did I learn that I had been the target of a would be assassin, and that it was only by the protection of the Lord and the leather grip full of books and tracts that I escaped unscratched.
Also it was a source of enjoyment to learn that, indirectly, as a
result of our efforts to give fair warning to the people both of
and near Houston, Halifax Co., Va., not only one honest seeker after
truth, but 27 of his friends and relatives were brought to see the
light of truth, and to accept the Gospel Message.
From a family letter not dated but with the Some of the most outstanding memories of my mission are connected with this area (Southern States) where I was given poison intentionally and did not know it, tho I blamed my terribly upset stomach and consequent inability to swallow solid food or to stand the jolting incident to riding in a wagon, for about 10 days to having been accidentally poisoned by drinking milk and eating pickles at the home of a man living N.W. of Buford, who first was favorable to our work.. then became very bitter trying. to raise a mob to drive us away, but later pretending to again be friendly and inviting us to call at his home for dinner. The day before my 21st birthday in 1899, Elder R. Leo Jensen of Brigham City, a newly arrived missionary, and I while en route to fill a. return, engagement in the "Brown School house District", and to eat a birthday dinner at the home of my very good friend and investigator almost ready for baptism, Joel J. Bailey, called by request for mid-day meal at the colonial home of the afore mentioned local religious leader, who had been out-spoken for and then against us, and had finally pretended to be friendly and urged us to come and eat with him. We arrived at his home a little after 11 A.M. and he invited us out to inspect his barns and out buildings etc., while dinner was being prepared, and while looking over his livestock he remembered that we need not take offense if we found his wife had already served glasses of milk for at the table, instead of coffee, as he had heard we wouldn't drink tea or coffee and that we were "powerful fond of milk." On our way back to the house, after hearing the customary ding dong of the plantation dinner bell, we passed the well and Elder Jensen drank his second helping of the freshly pumped water and I drank only a little. When we reached the dining room the lady of the house repeated the apology for having served milk at our places instead of tea or the customary coffee adding that she had heard it was against our religion to drink anything like tea, coffee or strong drink but that we had a "strong hankering for milk". Shortly after beginning to eat they both asked us why we didn't drink our milk and said they did not want us to take offense for it being placed there before meal time without asking us, etc. Elder Jensen explained that he had just filled up on water at the well, and did not care for milk, but I drank a little and because of its queer taste I put the glass, still almost full, down beside my plate. Near the end of a wonderful dinner of far greater variety than we usually found in our travels without purse or script, our host again urged us to drink our milk saying he would believe we had taken offense unless we did so. Whereupon I picked up my glass and finished drinking its contents before removing it from my lips, mentally commenting on its queer taste, and wondering if the pickles, or other food eaten could have 'affected my taster so as to make nice fresh cow's milk seem so unnatural. Dinner over, we thanked our hosts and started on thru the fields towards Bailey's but before getting out of sight of the house I was in great distress. At the fence line bordering that farm I felt so ill I could not go on, so asked my companion to administer to me, and he had hardly finished when I began vomiting and did not stop until it seemed my stomach was completely emptied. The returned milk was in great curds but everything else seemed to have turned green and frothy and of course the pickles and other foods were undigested. We slowly made our way to Bailey's and altho a nice chicken dinner and birthday cake were offered us next day, I could eat nothing but broth and liquid foods. We held meeting every night for 10 days at the school house two miles away from Bailey's and tho they hitched up a team of mules to their farm wagon so we might ride, the jolting distressed me so I could not stand it, but by leaning an a strong man on either side I was able to walk to and from meeting and, as Elder Jensen was new and inexperienced, I had to do most of the talking at the meetings. Before getting back to this district again I was transferred to Ohio and when Elder Jensen again came back to this district he found the story had got out that I was dead. He showed them a letter I had written him after arriving at Cincinnati, apparently well as ever and then he learned that our pseudo friend had boasted that he had merely been putting us to the test, for we had preached that we believed in signs, etc, and that we could "drink any deadly thing and it would not hurt us". Mark 16. He declared he had mixed up a dose for us that would "kill a dozen dogs." And while the little feller(Jensen) would not take the bait, the tall, blond one had and even if it did not kill me out right he saw evidence by the line fence trail crossing that it had made me powerful sick. It was not until hearing from Elder Jensen after that visit to the Brown School House District, did I know that the Scriptural promise had been fulfilled in my behalf. |