| I will begin by trying to recall my memories of my father and what I can remember his telling me, and overhearing him tell others. Dad was born October 8, 1908 at his home in Leon, WV, the fifth of six children. His older sister Oma died at age 8 just before he was born. His father, my grandfather, worked on the railroad (New York Central went through there), but the family soon moved to Middleport, Ohio sometime between 1910 and 1915. They moved into a house on Second Avenue in Middleport, on the Ohio River bank. The annual spring floods on the river helped them decide to move again to another house in Middleport on higher ground. Dad had related one story about a flood (I think 1917) when he remembered that he and his younger sister Dorothy had to leave through the second floor window in a rowboat. Dad went to school in Middleport, grammar school and some high school (he did not graduate, however he attended college later after passing the entrance exams). As a young boy he held odd jobs, first at a local grocery, later going to work in Parkersburg, WV. His oldest half-brother, Melvin, owned a printing company there and Dad went to work for him for a while. This was short lived, however, as relatives can rarely work together successfully. He left on good terms, and the brothers had a good relationship throughout their lives. One time when Dad was about 19, he attended a street fair, or carnival, that came to Middleport. He was alone and but ran into Naomi Wright, his future wife. Mom had gone to the fair with a boyfriend, but when she wanted to ride the Ferris Wheel, her friend balked. Dad stepped in and offered to ride with her and the rest is history. They were married several weeks later. (Dad often joked that he won his bride at the carnival.) Mom and Dad began housekeeping in Barberton, Ohio, near Akron. Dad got a job at one of the tire plants in Akron, just before the Great Depression began. He lost his job when it started, however shortly after that he was hired again, and Mom also, though they worked on opposite shifts for a while. After they had been married about seven years, Mom was told she could not bear children (a "fact" later proven wrong by yours truly). They decided to privately adopt a child and their new son, David, arrived as a newborn. It was about this time Dad began feeling the call to the ministry. He took some correspondence courses from the Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, and did a lot of work through his local church. He taught Sunday School classes and began to preach occasionally whenever he could. Around 1937 or '38 he went into the full time ministry and was called as Pastor of the Cheshire Baptist Church, in Cheshire, OH. (The town of Cheshire has recently been in the news because it has been purchased by the local power company-something about it being cheaper to buy the town and relocate the residents than clean up the pollution from the plant.) It was a small congregation, and Dad also accepted pastorates at three nearby churches as well. They constituted a "field" and scheduled their services so Dad could preach at all of them at various times. In 1939, Dad began classes at nearby Rio Grande College. He continued his pastorates while he furthered his ministerial education. Rio Grande was a two-year school at the time but Dad only attended the first year. In the next few years (the early forties) he had moved and pastored churches in Ravenswood, West Union, and Kingwood, all in West Virginia. He seemed to have fond memories of his early years in the ministry. In the mid 1940's the three of them picked up and moved to Morrision, IL-why? I do not know. He was pastor of a church there as well as having a part time job in printing. After a short time, they moved again, this time to Emporia, Virginia, again as pastor of a Baptist congregation. In 1948, he accepted a call to pastor the Shiloh Baptist Church in Shiloh, North Carolina, near Elizabeth City. This was the largest congregation he was ever privileged to lead, and also very divided. The chasm was mostly political in nature and Dad refused to publicly take either side. In 1951, difficulties came to a head and he resigned the position without any prospect on the horizon. He tendered his resignation during a Sunday morning worship service, stepping in and offering it to prevent a literal fist fight in the aisle. On the day he tendered his resignation, Mom was in the hospital, having given birth to her new son (me) two days earlier. During the next week, church members met and voted to ask Dad to reconsider and stay, but he declined. Over the next few weeks, Dad received several promising offers. He accepted the Pastorate of the Nelson Park Baptist Church in Norfolk, Virginia, a new congregation that had just begun and was meeting in a city school building. Three years later when Dad was moving on, this church had grown and was making plans to build their own building. (They are now the Ingleside Baptist Church in Norfolk.) Oldest son David remained in Norfolk, and soon married. Three years later Mom and Dad were grandparents by David, the first of his three sons. Mom, Dad, and I moved in 1954 to Hopewell, Virginia, and Dad left the ministry for full time work at the Hopewell News daily newspaper. Serving the Lord had worn down his nerves, especially at the North Carolina church, and he felt he needed to move on to something else. After five years in Hopewell, he got a job with the Times-Dispatch in Richmond and we moved again. We spent two years in one house in south Richmond, then moved to another house in the suburbs where we lived for the next ten years. I was able to call this house home for a long while, and was able to graduate from high school while still there. Dad was able, along with some scholarship money, to help me through a year of college in Charlottesville, after which I entered the work force. Problems arose at the newspaper, and Dad found himself in the midst of a labor strike. He was old enough by this time to collect Social Security and a small pension from the newspaper, so he decided to take early retirement. After graduating from business college, I left out on my own and Dad and Mom's nest was empty. Some eighteen years had passed since Dad left the ministry, and he now felt the urgings to return in some capacity. He was called in 1972 to pastor churches in Amelia County, and, a few years later, near Farmville, both in Virginia. These were small, rural congregations, requiring less time and energy, which suited Dad fine. He continued in this capacity until the early 1980's when his declining health forced him to retire again. After this he occasionally would act in a supply capacity for pastors who were absent, but even this became less and less often. He enjoyed writing, and had begun two books in the seventies. Dad had often said that even though there were many commentaries about the Book of Revelation he had read, and had many in his personal library, there was not one that he agreed with in its entirety. Therefore, he said, he would write his own. He did this, and I have the original manuscript in my possession. He did not publish it, though he let a number of his friends read it. I feel that he did not publish it because of possible issues regarding the works he cited and permission to quote, etc. He began another book, this one about Old Testament prophecies concerning the incarnation of Jesus Christ. This one he did not complete, however I have his notes and unfinished manuscript. Dad remained reasonably active until a few days before his death in 1989. Though he had been using a small word processor for a few years, he purchased an old, refurbished manual typewriter from a local store. He felt more comfortable using that. He brought it home in the trunk of his car, but rather than asking for help or waiting for my regular weekend visit, he tried to carry it inside the house himself. He lost his balance and fell on top of it, causing a bruise on his stomach. The following day, complaining of stomach pain, he went to the emergency room and was placed in intensive care at the hospital where he died the next day. He was one month shy of his 81st birthday. |
| Ernest Stanley Higginbotham A (very) brief biography |
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| Cheshire Baptist Church, Dad's first pastorate |
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| Dad's first car |