THE FUNERAL (continued)

Model-T Ford

That morning, finally, everyone was dressed and ready for the funeral. During this time my father, Benjamin Franklin Lee, Jr., was recovering from an operation. The car that I was to ride in was a model –T Ford (in 1926 a model-T Ford was the latest means of travel for the middle class. The next step down was the horse and buggy.)

It was snowing again that morning about six inches had already fallen. Four or five of us managed to squeeze into the car. One of the men cranked it and we were ready to go. When the driver let up on the clutch a little, the rear wheels (the only wheels that had power) began to spin and the rear of the car slipped and the back of the car began sliding in the ditch. Not a problem, several men got on that side and pushed it back straight while the driver slowly let out the clutch as he pulled the accelerator down. We were now okay, as long as we stayed in the tracks made by the previous car.

The funeral was at Galaway Hall on the Wilberforce campus. When we arrived, the hall was full. We were escorted down front. Wilberforce was always a fun time for me. Two or three weeks of summer fun. Somehow this was not a sad occasion for me. Grandfather had told my cousin and me that he would not be there for our next visit. He passed at age 84, quite remarkable at that time, and he was never “Pop Pop” to us grands. He was our grandfather, the Bishop. His daughters, Aunt Sarah, Effie, and Aunt Addie tried to help our parents keep us on the right track.

So I was not grief-stricken or very sad at the funeral. He was always grandfather, the Bishop. I was rather curious that the hall was full of people. As we sat down, I thought that I recognized some one from Cincinnati, so I turned around to see who else I might recognize. There were a couple more and by that time someone pulled on my coat and said, “Turn around.”

The service seemed to go along smoothly. There was music, brief remarks by several people. Then at last, the speaker, Bishop Ransom. He seemed to be very well received. I had heard his name mentioned at the house and also at home in Cincinnati.

Years later, I learned that at the time of my grandfather’s passing, Bishop Raverdy C. Ransom, (Google) was a very powerful minister who had just become a Bishop at the time of my grandfather’s passing. He was a tall, handsome man with reddish hair and was an excellent speaker. People were impressed with his calm, low-key, direct and forceful method of presentation. People listened to every word he said because he feared no man and would talk straightforward and say what he believed regardless of race, color, religion or political affiliation.

Years later, I learned also why there was such a large attendance at the funeral. My grandfather was known and revered in this country and in England, as a very learned man and was highly respected for his ability to oversee and provide guidance to any group or organization. His honesty and trustworthiness were impeccable.

P.S. My Aunt Sarah, who was the daughter who cared for him in his last days told me this.

Papa was bedridden in his last days. Shortly before he passed, he raised-up in bed and said, to Mr. Short, the seminary student in the house, “Bring me my hat and coat. I must go home now.” My Aunt said, “Papa, you are home,” and he said, “I know, but now I must go home to the angels.”