In spite of all the struggles and trials, we saw God doing a great work in lives. Many had come to Christ and were growing in Him. Our desire was not just to see them saved but to grow strong in their faith.  We saw the need for a native Bible school in Alberta in the early ‘60’s. Missionaries were leading people to Christ and were doing their best to help them reach spiritual maturity, but it was apparent that the new converts needed a place where they could get intensive training in the Bible; the sort of training 237 an individual missionary would not have the time, or the skill to give. We lived at Atikameg but started looking for a location for the Bible school around High Prairie. We mentioned it to the Mission Board and they put it in the executive minutes that a decision had been made to build a Bible school in Alberta.  John Unger had the same burden and he became the first to head up the department.

There was a Bible school in La Ronge,

Saskatchewan before that, but when building became imminent, a decision was made to locate the school at Lac La Biche, Alberta. I was in on the planning of the school and was there, off and on, during the building.  I’ve always been surprised that I was asked to be on the hospital board at High Prairie. I know now that it was to give me training in administration to prepare me for the responsibilities we have had in the Mission. I had never had any training in leadership or administration until the two town councils asked the Minister of Health in Edmonton to appoint me to represent the Indians in the area on the Hospital Board. For two years I was getting excellent training in administration; training that has been invaluable to me.  When we were doing a study on expanding the hospital in High Prairie, we paid a consultant $15,000 to come and tell us what we should do and what we should avoid doing. He was an adviser.  At the time we started talking about the school at Lac La Biche, I recommended having a ten-year plan, rather than building cabins here and there in the bush.

“If we do that,” I said, “we’re apt to find ourselves moving some of the buildings in a few years because we realize they’re in the wrong place.” I didn’t have ‘hands on’ involvement in the building of the school but the board followed some of my suggestions regarding a long range plan.

I directed camps at Jeanette Lake,

Saskatchewan for two years, helped build the Pine Ridge Bible Camp at Beauval, Saskatchewan and began one in New Brunswick. I directed that camp 238 for several years. I’ve also served as camp coordinator for the Mission.

Running a camp for native kids was quite different than having the same responsibility in a camp that catered to youngsters in a predominately white culture. Most of the kids we dealt with had never become entirely familiar with any structured activities.

They had been in school, of course, and some of them adapted well, but the others had not had too much direction or discipline to the things they had done. They were likely to do as they pleased without much regard for what their teachers wanted them to do. Many of them came to camp, thinking it was going to be a ball and that they could do whatever they wanted to. Frequently they tried to terrorize the place. Of course, this attitude isn’t limited to natives.  We had to send three kids home one summer.  They were completely out of hand. One kid was going to break all the windows in the camp—cars and all. Of course we couldn’t allow that to go on.  It was rough for awhile. A good swat on the behind might have taken care of the situation but they knew we couldn’t do that. So we sent those three home. When the others saw that we weren’t going to put up with their shenanigans, they settled down.

We have learned that a solid, well planned program, with good life guards and facilities and a trained staff will keep the problems down. We have to be able to keep control of the camp or we’re not able to teach them anything.  Like I said, I was camp coordinator for awhile but that didn’t work out too well in some areas. I could promote camp work and help get in funds and staff and set up training programs. I helped them with their plans and setting up slide presentations, but it was impossible for one person to properly supervise a camping program that reaches from New Brunswick to British Columbia. Now we have a camp coordinator for the central field because the camps in that part of 239 Canada are fairly close together and one man can keep his finger on the way they are going.

* * *

We left Atikameg in 1971, and went to Pierceland, where I pastored the Mennonite Church for three years and worked on two nearby reserves. It was a good experience and a welcome relief from the difficulties we had in northern Alberta. But Cathy had trouble adjusting to it.

“The telephone was the worst offender,” she says now. “I don’t suppose it rang very often but it overwhelmed me. I just wasn’t accustomed to having a phone and hadn’t learned how to adapt my schedule around it.”

We did a lot of fixing and repairing for the people in Pierceland. When we went back there to speak a few years later the pastor said in introducing me, “Everybody knows the Hills. Who in this congregation hasn’t had something built or fixed by them?” I don’t profess to be a builder but I had to learn carpentry to get along on the mission field. While we were living in Pierceland, a rancher asked me to build a calving barn for him. I wanted to give the boys some spending money and the experience of working for someone so we made a deal. We would work with him on Saturdays. He could pay the boys and I would work free.

We had all of his cow-hands to help, too. I gave the orders and did the sawing and others did the work. We put up a calving barn 75 feet wide and 150 feet long.  The ranch that had 1300 head of beef cattle is now an ostrich farm.

I don’t know whether helping on that barn gave our younger son, Roger, a love for working with wood or not, but he has become a meticulous cabinet maker. He worked at NCEM headquarters for three years as a maintenance man and while he was in Prince Albert he built a beautiful oak desk in the TV director’s office. He also built the cabinets in our home.

* * *

As was already mentioned, we did many little projects while in Pierceland to help people and share Christ at the same time. One winter Cathy and I renovated a little house for an elderly couple. They supplied all the material. In the early years they had lived in a sod house on the prairies and had homesteaded south of Pierceland in a log cabin.  When we finished renovating the house they were as happy as if it were a palace. We got to know most of the Torgenson family and still see them from time to time.

The Dycks were a large family who made us feel a part of them. We’ve taken part in their weddings, funerals and reunions. Not long ago we were at a town homecoming and the family asked us to be photographed with their family. We watched God work in this family and rejoice with them. We shared many good times at the lake on the old home place and in town. We visited family members in different provinces. They have prayed for us, supported us and shared with us their homes, vehicles, etc. Many are walking with God and we were glad to have a small part in their lives.

When I drove school bus on the northern run, many times I had breakfast with Bill and Nettle Unrau. Their place was the last ranch. Their youngest son, Lorne, was my first pick-up in the morning. This family provided eggs and milk and were really good to us. We still enjoy seeing them. I used Bill’s trapper’s cabin on the Martineau River for moose hunting. Their ranch was right next to the Big Head Reserve where we worked.

Lou and Leona were a couple we spent a lot of time with. Lou and I built a set of cupboards in the church. We also played hockey on the old-timers team. Lou came to Christ and I baptized him and Leona before we moved to New Brunswick and we have kept in touch ever since.

Time doesn’t allow to mention the Pahlkes, Harrisons, Lillicos and so many others we got to 241 know and share with.

I must mention one trip with Albert Pahlke, hauling fish to Saskatoon, 240 miles away. It went down to 60 below zero and we had trouble on the way back. We were all night getting home and I think I would have frozen if it weren’t for a ski-doo suit a church from back home had sent me.

* * *

No missionary would be able to go out to the field or stay there without prayer and financial supporters. We’ve been with the Mission 30 some years and many of those who were faithful in helping us have gone to be with the Lord.  You wouldn’t find a more faithful, caring group of Christians anywhere than those who have helped us. They’ve sent money for horses for the kids and have provided funds for special projects. Edmond and Alla Roy bought two cars for us and when we paid them back, they gave us the money back in support.

Dave and Mary Wiens bought the little skid shack we had in Salt Prairie and when we went to Atikameg, helped us build a house as well. There are too many stories to mention. All I can say is we have a great team of supporters who have stood by us through thick and thin.

On two occasions we have had supporters get into real financial binds. When we got our cheque we sent some money to them. One of those couples had given us $750 toward a car when we were in New Brunswick. When we found out they were in such straights we sent them some money.  They broke down and cried.

“We’re supposed to be supporting you,” they said.

“No,” we told them. “It doesn’t work that way.  When you’re in a family and one guy is having a little struggle, then the other is supposed to help him.”

It wasn’t until a few years ago that we had our full support. Even now it fluctuates and there are times when our cheques are smaller than they are supposed to be. But the Lord has always made it up for us. If the money that we needed didn’t come in, He has provided it in another way.  Cathy had a period of terrible depression at Atikameg. To this day we don’t know what brought it on, except that I was away a lot and she started dwelling on negative thoughts. She didn’t think we were getting mail from home like we should and decided that our friends and relatives had practically forgotten us.  They were having such good times in their church activities, she thought, that they didn’t realize we were up here. According to what she says now she began to feel sorry for herself. I was involved in a number of community projects and she thought I was being used by God, but that we were both so busy we didn’t have time for each other.

She wrote to her very good friend, Martha Leschied on the other side of the country, and she was going through the same thing at the same time. Like Cathy, she couldn’t understand why. Strangely enough, although they were writing back and forth, neither mentioned the awful depression that had taken hold of them.  “If we had just shared the fact that we were depressed,” Cathy says now, “we could have been so much help to each other. “

She tried to talk to me about it but I really wasn’t aware of how deeply she was affected.  “Trust the Lord,” I would tell her.

“I read my Bible more than ever,” she would tell me. “And I pray more than ever. I’m fine when I’m reading the Bible. I’m fine while I’m praying, 243 but after I’ve finished reading the Bible and I’m through praying I’m right back in this depression.” She says now that she is convinced that it was an attack of Satan and that she didn’t know how to resist the devil in those days.

When we started talking about making a move to another area she came out of the depression and hasn’t been troubled with it since. She has much more sympathy now for anyone who is depressed.  “Much of it comes from negative thoughts,” she told me.

Our three years at Pierceland were a real uplift even though we were busy. I preached in the church and worked on two reserves. It was during this time that I helped build Pine Ridge Bible Camp, 147 miles north. I directed Jeanette Lake Bible Camp two years and one year drove school bus for Mike Derichuck on the northern run.  Life was always interesting at Pierceland whether it was Sunday School on the reserve or visitation, moose hunting, visiting on the ranches and delivering calves or shooting coyotes.  The folks in Pierceland really treated us well.  We saw God work in lives and that was always a blessing. Some of our ranch friends brought us eggs, milk, vegetables, meat and other things. We did all kinds of things as a family, such as building, visiting and going to the lake.

On Mudie Lake Reserve, Joe Singer, the bus driver still hauled the school kids by wagon in summer and by sleigh in winter. This was 1971 to 1974.

Many of the reserves were very poor and sometimes this was heartbreaking. The chief on Big Head came to the Lord and became a good friend.  He even came to see us off when we left to go East. We have many fond memories of our three years in Pierceland.

It was while we were in Pierceland that I flew into Pinehouse, Saskatchewan, an isolated village, with Roy Market, Leslie Garret and Don Dyck, our pilot. We visited the whole village and had a meeting in the hall.

The hall was full of people and everyone seemed interested.We sang a few songs and then I began to preach in Cree.

I’ll never forget that meeting. A man stood up and began shouting in opposition. I tried to answer his questions but he got out of control. Another man I’d made friends with earlier in the day stood and told the first man to kiiyamapi (be quiet).  I kept on preaching and they went down fighting between the backless benches where the people sat. I knew if I stopped we would lose the whole crowd.

My friend dragged the trouble maker out the door and there was more shouting and slugging.  The commotion drew more people and we had a good meeting. God is still working in that village.  Our move back East to work with the Micmacs is a story in itself.

When we were home on furlough we would visit on the reserves and got to see the need but never even thought of moving there to work full-time.  Having hundreds of friends among the Crees, knowing their language, and loving the West, there had to be a definite call of God. We were struggling with these thoughts when we were down to Cathy’s folks. We had just made it a real matter of prayer one day when Wilbur Matthews who was pastoring at Whitneyville, made a special trip to see us. He said, “Have you ever considered coming East to work on the reserves?”

Though he and his wife Leona had worked in Africa as missionaries, they didn’t feel they were equipped to work on the reserves. Later when we did move there, they did help us in the native Bible 245 camp and with visitation.

The same day after Wilbur left, two more men, Cliff McComb and Art Wellwood dropped in and asked almost the same question.

Needless to say, the Lord had His hand on our move. I did, however, retain the Cree language and have had use of it ever since. In fact, the Micmac is a dialect of the Algonquin tongue from which Cree comes, so this was a help in learning some Micmac.

Packing and moving nearly 3,000 miles is not a minor incident, but we survived. There were tears, going away parties and help from our western friends.

When we went to pick up our big U-Haul truck from Edmonton, our good friends, Bernie and Katie Bock gave us their piano which was used while our children took piano lessons in New Brunswick. This couple had previously provided us with a trailer for our summer training programs, helped us buy our 4-wheel drive, repaired the engine in one of our cars and helped with numerous other projects.  Not everyone gets to see the fruit of their labours and only eternity will reveal the full extent of the sowing and reaping. We have had the privilege of going~back to places where we have served and seeing those who are standing for the Lord and we can only praise Him for His keeping power. There have been the heartaches and those who have failed, but God knows and we leave the results to Him.  Well, we did get to New Brunswick and got right into the work. We had some contacts and we visited as many as we could and shared Christ. Things were opening up and we were seeing God work. But as usual, the devil was not happy at all.

* * *

I don’t know why it is, but I seem to gravitate to trouble. Or maybe I’m a magnet drawing trouble to me. I don’t feel so bad when I read the life of Christ.

He had His share of problems too. I’ve been involved to some degree in several wild situations. On one reserve we had a very good Bible club, a trailer ministry and people receiving Christ. In one period we had as many as nine men in a Bible study at a time, and that’s unusual in the East. They were really listening and beginning to open up.  The bootleggers in the area, usually at each other’s throats, started losing customers and got so mad they joined forces to see what they could do about getting rid of us. I’ll never forget the time the chief came to talk to me about it.

“They’re really serious,” he said. “They say they’re going to shoot you.... I’m afraid for you.” “Don’t be afraid for me,” I told him. “I’m more concerned about you. This is your home. They’ll be after you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “If it wasn’t for the Lord I wouldn’t be here now.”

We didn’t stop the Bible studies, but changed the location a bit so we wouldn’t make what was going on so obvious. There’s no need of being stupid in a situation like that. One Sunday afternoon while I was away, a man who was very much against us ministering on his reserve phoned Cathy. He cursed and swore and did everything else he could on the telephone. There was a native lady in our home who could hear Cathy’s end of the conversation and couldn’t figure out what was going on.  She heard Cathy say, “That’s all right. I don’t think God will answer your prayers anyway. We’re going to pray that you will see the light.” The Indian lady could hear this guy shouting on the phone. “We’ll kill you guys yet.” “Don’t worry about it,” Cathy said. “We’ll keep praying for you.”

Then Cathy heard the man’s wife in the background shouting, “Don’t let her get the best of 247 you! “

“I don’t let NO woman get the best of me!”

Finally he slammed the receiver down.  It wasn’t too long after that we met the same man on the ferry to Newfoundland. When he couldn’t find a spot to sit down for lunch, we called him over to our table. There was no mention of our previous encounter and we enjoyed a friendly visit.

* * *

While we were in New Brunswick some of our supporters in Maine invited us to come to Montrose Bible Camp in Pennsylvania for a week. Relatives of the church pastor operated the camp that worked with kids from the ghettos in New York.  Mrs. Jay Jennings, who had directed the camp for fifty years, had Cathy slated for a cabin of girls. I was to take care of a cabin of boys. I was life guard and sports director and was also scheduled to speak twelve times, so we had our work cut out for us.  The kids were Puerto Ricans and came from Brooklyn, the Bronx and Manhattan. The guys weren’t much different than those we regularly worked with. They all had their switch blades and other items of destruction but we got them cleaned out and had a great time with them.

We were there three years in a row.  One of the guys, whose dad was in the mafia, actually played the piano in Carnegie Hall. Before we left I told the guys I would send them tomahawks.  “But on one condition! I don’t want to hear about any riots in New York with you guys clobbering each other with tomahawks. “

I don’t know whether they figured they would get the tomahawks or not but I sent them, anyway. The next year one of them came up and said, “I didn’t get any.”

I don’t know whether he was telling the truth or not but I got him another one.

Our stay at that camp was unusual. We came as speakers but ended up being full time workers, as well.  We used to call Mrs. Jennings, “General Jennings” for the way she gave orders and kept everyone in line. But we all loved her.

Back in New Brunswick, Cathy and I had prayed that God would give us ideas on how to reach the people on the reserves. We had gotten to know a lot of people, but needed something special to get the work going.

The Lord impressed on both of us to get a trailer and go out to the reserves and have daily Bible clubs in the summer.

One morning on the way to one of the reserves, I saw this trailer beside a barn. I stopped and asked if it was for sale.

“It’s strange you ask,” the lady replied. “Just yesterday the folks that own it phoned from Calgary, Alberta, and said they would sell it.” It had sat there for three years, and the Lord had led me there just the right day.

“Even more strange, the folks are coming here next week.” she told me.

I told Cathy and we prayed about it and both came up with the figure of $1,500 though we didn’t have it in hand. When the folks came we offered them $1,500 and they said, “We can’t, we have over $3,000 tied up in it.”

It was loaded alright. We told them we had prayed about it and that $1,500 was all we could pay. They said they were Christians too and we had a nice visit. They told us they would be there for three weeks and they would try to sell the trailer for $2,000 and if it didn’t sell they would give it to us for $1,750.

Since we felt the Lord had given us the figure of 249 $1,500, we had better not go any higher, so we decided this must not be the trailer for us.  After a good visit we went home and continued to pray for a trailer in our price range.  Two days later the couple called us and said they hadn’t been able to sleep. They hadn’t even advertised the trailer and decided to give it to us for $1,500. The only catch was we had to have the cash by the next week.

To make a long story short, God supplied in totally unexpected ways and by the next week we were able to pay the full amount. The couple were so interested in our idea they sent us money later to help on our outreach.

The trailer ministry, though it was taxing, proved to be one of our best opportunities to get into the homes and hearts of the people. Our kids were a real help as we camped on the different reserves, a week at a time. They contacted children and we had as many as sixty-five or seventy around for club three times a day. In between we swam, played ball and other games. The chiefs begged us to stay longer.

Eventually, this led us into a camping program.

* * *

NCEM has always had a strong camping program. We tried to work out a joint arrangement with the Canadian Sunday School Mission and contacted the local forestry office about leasing a tract of land for that purpose.

“There’s no use in making an application,” We were told. “There’s no way you’re going to get land for a Bible camp.”

I was disappointed but I wasn’t ready to accept the refusal so I made an appointment to talk with Premier Hatfield. He listened to our story and sent us to the Minister of Natural Resources. As we left 250 the premieres office he said, “If you don’t get what you want, my door is always open.” We spent two hours with the Minister of Natural Resources and his aide, Tom Sifton. At the conclusion he told us we could have our choice of lakes and to pick out a location that suited us.  “I think what you’re doing is great,” He said. Then he turned to Tom. “Make sure that they find something suitable for their purpose.” We did build a camp with the Canadian Sunday School Mission, and for several years shared the property in a joint venture.

We bought a set of cabins from Fleming & Gibson. Hugh John Fleming used to be the premier.  After he left office he went into logging—or maybe he went back into it. I’m not sure.

Anyway, they had several bunkhouses they had just built for $30,000. They hadn’t used them and now they were going into receivership.  “It’s going into receivership,” Fleming said, “but as long as you get to us before it’s locked up, we might be able to do something.” He sold us the whole thing for $2,000.

We worked forty days and forty nights, except for Sundays, clearing the thick bush and making places for the buildings. We had over a hundred men involved. There were tree farmers and tractors and loaders and gravel trucks. Anything we needed was there. Most of these were people from the Miramichi area.

We built the road, sawed the buildings in two, boarded up the ends and hauled them to the places where they were to be located. Our sons, Vince and Roger, and I did much of the building, with additional help coming in on Saturdays. When we finished we had thirteen cabins, a dining hall 50 by 30 feet, docks and a ball diamond.

One cabin was sponsored by the Eel Ground Native Band and dedicated to their children who came to camp.

Roger Augustine was one chief who always had an interest in his people.

We got teenagers to come out and work all night burning brush. They had a ball.

Thus Miramichi Bible Camp came about.  This camp has since been turned over to Canadian Sunday School Mission and Arrowhead Native Bible Center has been raised up to run a full program for native outreach.

Our son, Roger and his wife have been involved in it almost from the beginning along with the Danas, the Stewards and the other Maritime NCEM missionaries.

* * *

Awesome

When sun is fading in the west
It brings out hues we like the best.
The colors God in clouds invest
Reminds us of a treasure chest.
Awesome.

The heavens declare the Glory of God
Their voice throughout the world is heard
And they utter not one word
But still they tell us of the Lord,
Awesome.

The purples, red, the pastel pink,
They seem to change each time you blink,
And as the sun begins to sink,
The colors fade and slowly shrink,
Awesome.

Giving a prayer of dedication at Sonrise '92 in New Mexico for a native delegation heading to Israel at the invitation of Yitshak Shamir.	Campers and staff at Miramichi Bible Camp, in front of log cabin we built . July 1983

Trappers' dwelling in northern Quebec where we were weathered in for 2 1/2 days.	Bob and Darleen Steward, our pilot Ed Hickey, the Jolly family and athy and Carroll.