Reverend Justin Washburn
Temptations seem to reach a peak for boys as they reach their fourteenth year. It is not necessary to list those temptations; some wear skirts, some are lighted on the end, and some come in bottles. Oh, so many new worlds to explore, and oh, did we need the guidance of wise leadership. We were lucky to have the best. The great depression had drawn families together and relatives surrounded most of us. Discipline is simpler when every one knows who you are and most are kin.
However, no control is perfect when boys are generating pimples and hormones. The efforts of many are required to develop their self-control. There were many who contributed; one requires special attention.
Reverend Justin Washburn came to preach from the pulpits of the Franklin and Durbin Methodist Churches, a two-point charge, about 1941. He was a retired college teacher from the northern part of the state; he felt compelled to become a Pastor. I think he studied theology someplace before he came to serve us. I know he had studied people, boys in particular. He pulled me in at a critical time. I had begun thinking that Sunday school was for "children". Our volunteer teachers were good folks who repeated the same children’s stories without relating them to real teen problems. Life was complicated by the war. Teen-age boys were assuming adult jobs and responsibilities as the men were taken into service. There was much excitement "out there", and that competed for our attention. Reverend Washburn knew our ambitions and fears, and he knew how to channel them. If we were excited about a wartime happening in a far away place, he could tell us the history of that place. He explained the war calmly.
I don’t recall whether he was always accurate, but he gave us confidence.
He was a Sunday night magnet. We gathered for youth meetings at Durbin or in Franklin. The lessons were adult and quietly taught, but the songs, oh, the songs we sang, those are the words that cling to memory. We sang "When the Roll is Called Up Yonder" and "Bringing in the Sheaves". We each had our favorite hymn and were allowed to choose. Mine was called "In the Garden". I still remember; "I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses.
Finally, Reverend Washburn’s patience would wear thin and he would call a halt to the singing so that he could introduce the lesson.
As the years rolled along, it became my habit to sit in front of the church in the Smith family 1939 Ford with friends and classmates Louie and Lois and listen to Charlie McCarthy on their radio. In time, little sister Martha joined the radio listeners. Her presence made me wish to never leave the spot close to her.
Whether it was Martha’s presence or the radio, we soon developed the habit of staying in the car well past the hour for our church program to begin. At last, Reverend Washburn would appear at the church door and motion to us. "Come on in," he would call, not in anger , but with an inviting smile that bespoke complete understanding.
Years later, Reverend Washburn, retired from active service, traveled to Durbin Church to marry Martha Smith and Bob Read, June 25, 1950. After he left our front lawn reception, Louie reported that he had left some boxes for me. They contained his Five-Foot Shelf of the Harvard Classics. The very first bait he had used to draw me in.
When my last breath comes, I expect to see in the distance Reverend Justin Washburn waving me to come on in.
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