I was a companion-caregiver to “Reverend Paul” for about six years. When I met him, he was 88 and a widower, having lost his beloved wife Erma two years before. Reverend Paul became my friend, and when he passed in 2023 at the age of 94, I was sad but relieved that he was, in his own words, “seeing what comes next.”.
He was very proud of
having served at churches all over New England, “except for Connecticut.”
The following is one of his stories:
Underneath a rainspout in Dudley, Massachusetts, I nearly lost my life as an infant. My mother and father had taken me to an outdoor tabernacle on Dudley Hill, located at Dudley Bible Institute, where Dad was director. That day, he was preaching. I was in a baby carriage and my mother had placed me by a building, which I assume was in the shade. I was under a gutter and apparently there was a leak in it because water came down on my face. Somebody heard me gurgling and came out to get me. They said my mouth was full of water and I was turning blue.
For some reason, my mother and father remembered this story while I was growing up. They wanted me to be aware that God intended me to live and do something with my life. I kind of took to that, because when people would come to our house and ask my name I would say, “Paul, like the Paul in the Bible.” Now, of course, that became much a part of my growing up years along with my desire to become a professional ball player. I had natural talent as a pitcher and shortstop, and as my skills developed, I became more confident in my ability to make the pros. However, being brought up in a religious home, my desire to become a minister like my Dad also grew stronger. In my mind, it was very pivotal day when my high school baseball coach told me that there was a major league baseball scout coming to watch our game at Cranston High in Rhode Island. I felt that this was a big opportunity and I had a strong feeling that if I did well at this ballgame, this would indicate that it was OK with God for me to become a ball player, and if I didn’t do well, I should become a minister. That day, I struck out twice and had one feeble single so I went home pretty discouraged. To me, that was a clear sign I was going into the ministry.
The outcome of all this, of course, was that I was still able to pursue my baseball “life,” as I joined a semi-pro team in Auburn, Maine.
I played with them for six years, even though I was by then a pastor in three churches in Maine. I was married by then, and my wife Erma and I had joined the New Auburn Social Club.
While I was playing baseball for Auburn, there was a baseball team that entertained all around in much the same way that the Harlem Globetrotters would many years later. This team was called “the King and his Court.” The “King” who founded this team was Eddie Feigner. He had played baseball while in the Marines and was an excellent pitcher. The King and His Court consisted of only four players: pitcher, catcher, 1st baseman, and shortstop. In a game against Major League players in 1967, The King struck out Willy Mays, Willy McCovey, Brooks Robinson, Roberto Clemente, Maury Wills, and Harmon Killibrew, one right after the other. I have a ball signed by The King and His Court. I saw them at a number of places. The last time was in Leicester, and that’s where he signed a ball for me. Baseball was always a part of my life and in 1990, after I retired from my last church, I helped found the Worcester Massachusetts Softball League.
