Word: detroit
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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When Mrs. Henry Ford was an apple-cheeked Michigan farm girl named Clara Bryant, she used to go on Sunday mornings to St. Paul's Memorial Episcopal Church in Detroit, accompanied by her grandfather who stoked the church fires, dusted the pews. First organist at St. Paul's was Sara Angelina Waffle, who on severe winter days had her old-fashioned pump organ pushed up next to the stove to prevent her fingers from becoming numb. Frequently in the course of a sermon Organist Waffle would sidle off her bench to put a stick of wood...
...Charles Jaynes, pastor in Detroit of a foursquare Gospel Church affiliated with Aimee Semple McPherson's organization has a chubby 6-year-old son. Charles Jaynes Jr. eats spinach, practices on his violin, cannot read. In Shreveport, La. last Sunday night, Preacher Jaynes wiped his small moppet's nose, led him out before a good-sized congregation. Not the father but the son began beating the pulpit with a childish fist, pointing a small finger to heaven and piping in a clear treble : "Man has a two-fold nature. He is both a material and a spiritual being...
Thus Evangelist Charles Jaynes Jr. led off a week of services in Shreveport, culminating a tour which began three years ago when he could scarcely talk sense. Having preached in 70 cities in 13 states, small Charles Jaynes Jr. will go to Detroit for a well-earned rest and some education. Called by his parents no prodigy but "the result of proper training in a Christian home," the child has heretofore been too busy for schooling, will get a tutor next autumn...
...Polish-born Bishop Joseph Casimir Plagens had by last week accustomed Italian, French, German and Polish Catholics to hearing him orate and converse fluently in their languages. Still vacant remained the post Bishop Plagens left to take over the diocese of Sault Ste. Marie & Marquette-the auxiliary Bishopric of Detroit, see of Bishop Michael James Gallagher...
Stages, scaffolding, a litter of broken plaster and a husky ex-cowboy occupied the small, tall Gallery of Contemporary American Art in the Detroit Arts Institute last week. Occasionally letting out a hearty "goddam" when something went wrong, the ex-cowboy was delicately daubing soft hues on the wet plaster walls, shaping dreamy, feminine figures...