My modem stopped working the other day, and until the replacement comes, I can’t blog except by picking out a post one slow character at a time on my iPad. Keeping it short, here are a couple of missionary stories from the autobiography of Elwood Corry. Maybe as an exercise, and because so many of you are so good about adding to posts, you could do a little sleuthing and find out the sorts of things I usually supply — life dates, dates of service in the British Mission, home town, what the “Bull Ring” was, that kind of thing.
-ooOoo-
I remember one street meeting on the Bull Ring in Birmingham, where we had a singular experience. My companion and I had arrived at the Bull Ring and were getting ready to begin our street meeting. There was not a soul around the stand. Quite some distance away people were walking up and down the sidewalk but this was clear across the open market place.
We were wondering how we could attract the attention of the people so as to get a crowd. While we were standing there, we observed a rather small white haired man coming across the market place towards us. He came up to the stand, did not say a word to us but immediately began shouting at the top of his voice words that did not make any sense to us, and at the same time he was jumping up and down and striking the cobblestone surface with his cane. People were startled at the commotion and began gathering around from all directions. As soon as a crowd had gathered, he suddenly stopped and walked through the crowd and left us, and we had a successful meeting. I have many times since thought about this incident and wondered if he might have been one of the three Nephites. In any event, I’m sure he was prompted by the Lord to help us get a crowd for our meeting. I, of course, had never seen him before or since.
I had another experience while laboring in the Birmingham Conference which taught me a lesson in tolerance and that we should be very careful about passing judgment on those who we think our enemies.
I had not been in Birmingham but a short time until I became acquainted with a familiar man who attended our street meetings quite regularly. He was known as Giles the Heckler. Having been to many street meetings and heard the story of the restoration of the gospel, the Book of Mormon, the apostasy, etc., he had become very familiar with our doctrines. He took great delight in heckling our Elders, particularly the new ones who sometimes were not so sure of themselves.
To hear him ridicule and try to tear down the things we were endeavoring to preach to the people gave me the impression that this man was an avowed enemy of the work and inspired by Satan.
I felt that he had no use for Mormon Elders and cared less about us.
One day I found myself alone on one of the busy streets of Birmingham, undecided about crossing the street. It was one of those narrow streets that made it necessary when one car or bus was passing another to take up almost the whole width of the street. I was looking in one direction, and decided to cross the street.
I started to step off the curb onto the street, when a strong hand took hold of my shoulder from the rear and immediately pulled me back onto the sidewalk. Simultaneously a large bus rolled by directly, where I would have been killed or badly injured in the accident which, it appeared, would have been unavoidable.
I turned around, and who should my guardian be but Giles the Heckler. Yes, “there is so much good in the worst of us and so much bad in the best of us that it ill behooves any of us to talk about the rest of us.”
Good one, Ardis. I did not expect that, & was pleasantly surprised.
Elwood Jones Corry was born in Cedar City, Utah, in 1911, and seems to have lived there all his life except for his years in as a missionary in the British Mission, from 1930 to 1932.
He worked in the insurance and real estate business in Cedar City, served as a counselor in three bishoprics, as president of the Cedar Stake from 1950 to 1960, and thereafter as patriarch of that stake until no long able due to ill health.
Thanks for posting the story. Elwood Jones Corry is my “Uncle Elwood” older brother of my mother.
It caught my fancy, too, Marivene!
What can I say, Mark? Challenge accepted, achievement unlocked. Thanks. 🙂
Elwood was my grandfather and a wonderful storyteller. I grew up hearing his mission stories (particularly these two), and it was fun to come across them here.
It appears that the Bull Ring has been a famous marketplace in Birmingham since the middle ages. If you Google “Birmingham Bull Ring 1930s,” you’ll see photos of the area from the time that Elwood served his mission there.
Thanks for the post!
Ah, but the real achievement is finding out who Giles the Heckler was. No hits on Google, so I’m out of the running…
According to Wikipedia:
“The area was first known as Corn Cheaping in reference to the corn market on the site. The name Bull Ring referred to the green within Corn Cheaping that was used for bullbaiting. The ‘ring’ was a hoop of iron in Corn Cheaping to which bulls were tied for baiting before slaughter. The joining of the two words in the 21st-century development of the area to form Bullring caused controversy amongst some residents and other people who were angry at the change of what was described as an “historic spelling.””
It was a marketplace and now a shopping centre. (note how I spelled that the British way). As the center marketplace in Birmingham, it was used for public meetings including a riot in 1839, likely associated with the Chartist Movement.
Me, too, JRL — I’m not even sure we can know his name was “Giles.” That could have been as much a nickname created by the elders as the rest. I have no idea how to research it, but the way these things tend to work, I may eventually read some other missionary reminiscence that tells more.
Grant, on the other hand, wins bonus points for that thorough and descriptive identification of a point in the story that needed an explanatory footnote. Thanks!
Sue Anne, Juliana, I just found your comments caught in the moderation queue — sorry for the delay in public posting and in responding to you. It’s always an honor when a family member comments. I’m glad that your family takes pride in your ancestor’s memory, and made his autobiography available to the rest of us.
I recall Grandpa telling the first story, I don’t remember him talking about Giles the heckler, but He always was good at reminding us not to be judgmental. Fun to read his stories here.
On my mission in Buenos Aires, we set up an exposition in a park between all the transportation stations. We had signs with pictures from the flipchart and a table with pamphlets. We could give a discussion just by pointing to pictures on one of the signs. It was very successful and we got dozens of referrals each day.
Sometimes a preacher would start preaching against us with a bullhorn nearby. He would draw a crowd, then when he was done the whole crowd was even more curious and would come over to talk to us. I don’t know why he didn’t realize that he was helping our cause. I never thought it might be one of the Three Nephites.