September, 1944
KB 297
expected that verdict. Through the almost tomblike silence of the court room, I heard the judge say, “Twenty years’ imprisonment,” and my heart wavered. Twenty* years behind the bars! Could I face it? Could God make a preacher of me in prison? In Prison I had heard that when the heavy iron doors of the prison clanged to gether behind the prisoner, even the strongest of men would break: that courage would fail and hope would cease. I wondered how I would feel. Certainly there is an uncom promising sound to the bolting of that door. The narrow corridor be fore me, lined with small cells, the close air, charged with a nauseating disinfectant, was hardly inviting. But aside from a slight trejnor at facing the unknown, there was a good deal of interest and curiosity in my thoughts as I heard the doors bang together and I began my twenty years’ sentence. This was to be -my home. This was to be the place and these were the men among whom I was to labor as best I could for the Lord. I looked with interest at their hard ened faces, as they sized up the “new- grounder.” I had been praying about the work I hoped to do here. I did not think so much of the years ahead as of the opportunities at hand. With a prayer on my lips, hope in my heart, and with the Lord Jésus at my side, I walked down the corridor to .my cell. It is not easy to maintain an ag gressive witness among hardened criminals, with their jeers and scof fing. But somehow, before long five fellows had the courage to step out— and what we termed a “Sunday school” was started. There was a prison chaplain, of course, and re gular Sunday services; but we were not satisfied with the lifeless mes sages and lack of response on the part of the inmates. Attendance at our Sunday school varied with the weather. In cold weather several hundred would be present. In warm weather maybe half a hundred would gather. Out of the Sunday school grew a “choir,” called that by necessity, for that was the only way we could re main out of the cells on Sunday night. Ostensibly, we practiced our songs for Sunday school. But preaching, testi monies, and prayer circle took up the major part of the time. Since mem bership was limited, we drew off the best of the Sunday school—the cream of the convicts, if you will—for this privilege of meeting in the choir on Sunday nights. It was a real treat.
don. I did not dare to hope. After all, it was in God’s hands, whether I stayed or was freed. One morning, a fellow from the rec ords office came up to me and said, “Well, Ben, it’s over. You can go home this afternoon.” For a moment I sat there, stunned, scarcely able to realize that the long wait was over. Then I went to my window overlooking the field, and poured out my heart in thanksgiving to the Lord. Four years to the day after sen tence was pronounced, I walked out of prison, a free man, with a pardon in my pocket. God’s wonderful grace and providence had manifested itself through the intervention of the trial judge and many others, to give me my freedom. . Into Service With the call of the Lord’s service firmly before me, I went to work for a year and then enrolled in a Mid west university for further training. Later I came to the west coast and went to work in one of the shipyards, anxious to help in the war effort, even if I could not fight. Still. I did not feel I had as yet found God’s best for me. I was living in the Y.M.C.A. in San Pedro, California, at the time, and one day I took a book from the library. It was the life of Charles Fuller. Read ing through that, I came to the place where he told of his training at the Bible Institute of Los Angeles. “If a man like that came from the Bible Institute,” I said to myself, “that’s the place for me. At least, I want to look into it.” On my first day off, I came up for a visit. To my amazement, I found, that Dr. Louis T. Talbot was President of the school. Immediately, I was carried back in thought to prison days. Once a visitor at the prison had loaned me two of Dr. Talbot’s books. They were such a blessing to me that I desired them for my own, but I had promised to return them and’ I, could not buy others. Laboriously,. I copied them both in longhand, typed them up, and later had them bourtd in the prison workshop for myself and others of the Bible class. Now I had come “home!” I had found an old friend. With the clear certainty that I had also found God’s place for me, I enrolled in the Bible Institute of Los Angeles for the train ing that1would fit me to serve Him better. My heart’s desire is that I may exalt Him in all things. All that I have, and am belongs to the Lord Jesus' Christ, who loved me out of sin, lifted me out of prison, and is leading me into service.
Other work grew put of the Sun day school. One of the boys, through the help of the governor of the state, had a Bible course introduced into the prison school curriculum, and I was privileged to teach the Bible class at various times. Another of the fellows started a prayer circle which met in a room adjacent to the main auditorium just prior to the Sunday evening services. Soon after that he was pardoned, and is now a pastor of a small church in his home state. All the others in the prayer circle have since been pardoned. God heard their prayers. Those years in prison were wonder ful years and I thank the Lord for them. I learned to know the peace and satisfaction of a heart and will right with God. From my little window high in the office building, I could, see a small bit of God’s creation; fields and4 trees and cows and birds. I learned to love that small world from the window. And I learned to love the God who made it; to love Him more and more. Many were the hours spent in the spirit of prayer and fellowship with Him from my seat at the window. Did Jesus satisfy? Yes, even in prison! No longer did I flee Him. Right glad ly did I accept His plan for me. I be gan to look forward to the day I would be serving Him fully. The constant prayer on my lips was the seventh verse of Psalm 142: “Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise thy name: the righteous shall compass me about; for thou shalt deal bountifully with me.” It was to be answered sooner than I thought. Brought Forth When I entered prison, I was pre pared to serve the full twenty years. But after a few years, I was told that my friends were working for a par-
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The prisoners sang.
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