Tribute to Rev. H.C. Bradbury

From the Lincoln Beacon, Oct. 27, 1887

From the Junction City Union: There is a simple minded, sincere and honest preacher out in Lincoln County by the name of the Rev. H.C. Bradbury. We think he belongs to a family of means back east, and as it its 10 or 12 years since we met him we may be mistaken, but we think he started as a missionary at Five Points, N.Y. A correspondent of the Hiawatha World writes that he is a "missionary" and travels about his county holding services at churches without a pastor and at school houses. His salary in a year amounts to less than $100 and yet he is the happiest and most contented man in the State. The Newton Republican says:
This is true of one of the most simple-hearted and devoted of men. A little party of political tourists years ago accepted the hospitality of Mr. Bradbury's roof. One of the party said, "Mr. Bradbury, in all of your long residence in Kansas, have you never secured a homestead?" to which the man responded in a voice which divested his answer of every suspicion of cant: "I hope I have a claim above." One of the party became reflective, and when Mr. Bradbury had left the room, said, "You bet he has; and he has proved up on it, too."
The Beacon responds: We cannot resist the temptation to scrape the mould of oblivion from one of Mr. Bradbury's sayings for the benefit of those who know a funny thing when they hear it. Some 10 or 12 years ago a Universalist minister visited this place and one of his friends suggested to Mr. Bradbury (who was conducting a protracted meeting) the appropriateness and convenience of his holding a joint meeting with the Universalist, to which Mr. Bradbury objected, saying, that "there was too much difference between Presbyterianism and Universalism to make such a proceeding consistent." Well," said the proposer of the joint meeting, "what's the essential difference between you? Don't you and he preach the same Christ and the same essential points of salvation?" "Well," said Mr. Bradbury with great seriousness, "that isn't what's the matter," and then, his face lighting up with a sudden appreciation of a full-blown joke which his jovial nature could not repress, he concluded, "the fact is, there's a hell of a difference." There was no joint meeting. Only those who have known Mr. Bradbury for years can fully reconcile the above observation with his ' almost ' fanatical distress over any sacrilegious remark or action from any source. He jokes for about the same reason that he breathes; because he can't help it, and his jovial, cheery presence is an inspiration to heavy hearts and has been a light in many a dark pathway.

Rev. Bradbury and the Cowboy Collection

From the Lincoln Republican, Dec. 2, 1897

Rev. Bradbury drove to Sylvan Grove last Thursday to hold a Thanksgiving service that evening. When he got there no fire had been built in the church for they thought it too cold for him to come. He got W.H. McAdams to build a fire, and pretty soon Frank Fouts came. Then two cowboys came, entire strangers in the community, and both showing signs that they had observed the day according to the custom of their profession. After singing a song Mr. Bradbury began reading a chapter from the bible. While he was reading one of the cowboys got up and said he wanted to take up a collection. Mr. Bradbury asked him what he wanted to take up a collection for, and he replied, for the preacher. So the fellow took his hat and made the rounds of the audience. After counting the cash he announced that he found that he had given more than all of the others together and that he couldn’t put up with such a collection. He went after them again, making even his partner throw in a little more. After delivering the money he and his friend left the room. Rev. Bradbury had often heard about cowboy collectoins, but in all of his 25 years’ experience as a pioneer preacher this was the first one he ever saw. It is too bad that the good people of Sylvan Grove lost this opportunity of doing something for the preacher, for when he has to do the preaching and work the collection business both alone he usually neglects the latter. Wouldn’t it be a good idea for the elder to form a partnership with this fellow and make the round of his appointments?

The Preacher Surprised Them

Lincoln Republican, Dec. 18, 1902
Away back in the '70s when Justice Johnston of the supreme court was a young lawyer in the new town of Minneapolis, Kan., the gang of young fellows who had located in the then frontier village, were thrown on their own resources for amusement. It is fair to say, however, that they managed to have something doing most of the time, for those young fellows were resourceful in their day and generation.
Among the crowd was one young man who figured out more schemes to pass dull time away than any other one in the bunch. On one occasion he got possession of a vacant double stall in a livery stable, boarded it up like a room and then provided himself with a pair of light boxing gloves. He took a few boon companions into his confidence and the plan was ready to be put into operation. The originator of the scheme was husky and knew something about the art of boxing. This was also true of several of the fellows who were in with him. With this as the basis, the rest of the plan was simple. A guileless stranger or possibly a resident of the town who was not on, would be invited up to the new room under one pretext or another; the door, which had been fixed up as an entrance to the box stall, would be opened, the victim induced to go in; then the door would be locked and he would be told that he must now take care of himself. There was nothing for him to do but put on the gloves and put up the best showing he could. This went on for several days and several victims came out more or less battered up. The originators of the plan were getting their money's worth of sport and more. The scheme was voted a complete success.
There was a preacher who had located in the little new town on the prairie. His name was Bradbury. He was a quiet and earnest expounder who made friends among all classes and attended strictly to his own business. It occurred to some of the denizens of the new town that it would add materially to the gaiety of the world if the preacher could be steered into the box stall and compelled to put on the gloves. The leader of the gang agreed on his part to polish the gentle shepherd off in good shape, but not do him any serious injury.
At the hotel where the preacher boarded were several of the young men who were in the plot. They engaged the reverend in conversation regarding a new literary club they were organizing or something of that sort and gave him a pressing invitation to come up and talk with some of the organizers. The preacher was unsuspecting and more than willing to go. He wanted to help as far as he could to advance the general culture of the town. Quite a crowd saw the minister being led up to the pen and followed on the scent of fun. When Rev. Bradbury was safely inside of the stall the gate was closed on him, he was given a pair of boxing gloves and told to take care of himself. He looked about him in mild wonder for a minute and then with a quiet smile said, "Well, boys, I seem to be in for it. I suppose that I will have to do the best I can." Then he began to deliberately remove his coat and vest and it was noticed by the onlookers that when stripped down to his shirt he showed remarkable physical development. There was also something a trifle ominious in the manner in which he inspected the gloves and tried their weight. A few of the fellows began to have a sort of sneaking notion that possibly the parson might have had some previous experience, but he had always been so quiet and earnest in preaching the Word that it could hardly be possible that he had ever been a pugilist. When the parson had removed his collar and carefully tied on the gloves he announced that he believed he was ready. The leader of the gang, who was to polish him off, made a pass at him, and the parson sidestepped in a way that was a revelation to the amateurs who were running the game. Then something happened that hadn't been put down on the bills. The parson's right shot out strong and swift and sure and caught his opponent on the point of the chin, and for the next 12 or 15 seconds that gentleman lost all interest in the subsequent proceedings. The other members of the gang were working with him in the corner of the stall with crude methods, trying to restore him to consciousness.
From that time on as long as he stayed in Minneapolis Parson Bradbury had everything his own way. If his church needed money all he had to do was to indicate to the gang what he wanted and he got it.
It developed that at one time in his life he had been counted as scienced in the art of bruising and later he had worked among the slums and toughs of New York, where it was necessary at times for even a preacher of righteousness to practice the art of self-defense.
From that time Rev. Bradbury was held in high esteem in the town of Minneapolis, but none of the gang ever again tried to inveigle him into putting on the gloves. ' Mail and Breeze
 

Rev. Bradbury's Trip West

In 1903, Rev. H.C. Bradbury went to California for a Presbyterian conference, and while there traveled around the west coast visiting former Lincoln County people. He wrote to the Lincoln Sentinel about his journey and the "home folks" he saw along the way. These are some of those letters. Of particular interest is the list he gives of the former Lincoln Countians who migrated to Sedro-Woolley, Washington.

Lincoln Sentinel, July 9, 1903

My Dear Home Folks ' I am now rejoicing over my safe return, but cannot forget my promise to tell you about other Lincoln County exiles I found on the Pacific coast.
I received a pressing invitation from San Diego near the Mexican borders, so I went. The first one to greet me was Mrs. Albert Springer, Hester Holcomb that was. She is rich now, because she has a pleasant home and two sons and a daughter greatly interested in the State Christian Endeavor Convention there in San Diego. Albert Springer is now a daily newspaper man, who has little rest. They still remember Lincoln, and the dear people there. I just wish that they could return here a little while to give us a chance to return some of their kindness.
I was greatly impressed with the earnest ways of the Christian Endeavourers. They meant work, and on Sabbath filled their big tent and overflowed into two churches, and a number of city parks to offer salvation to everyone that thirsts and will come to the living waters.
Mr. and Mrs. H. Holcomb are there. He kept one of the first stores in Lincoln County, Kan. But in the stormy times of the Farmers' Alliance it was cleaned out, because so many refused to pay their debts, as well as trade. After keeping a grocery store in San Diego, he retires in peace to a comfortable home to raise blackberries and Logan berries and flowers. His wife still works, and has just completed a one hundred dollar crazy quilt, made of velvet and silk, It is a beauty.
Bing Skinner, of Beverly, and wife I met at church on Sabbath, a good place to be. On work days, Bing Skinner is a great boatman, and loves to go swimming with the thousands who every year seek Southern California for rest and pleasure. It is fun to swim in the Pacific Ocean, and hear, and see the great billows beat on the shore. Bing and wife were just ready to return for business to Kansas, and so were Ned Allison and family. They were very homesick for Kansas, "where the Sun flowers bloom." I did not meet Curt Shaver, Johnny Springer or Mrs. Squires, who are happy to live in such a climate, and who are hard at work. Mrs. Squires is a nurse doing lots of good. Johnny is on his farm. ...
I thank God for the wars, the hoppers, the cyclones, the droughts, the floods of Kansas and all kinds of chastisements. They have made men of us. We love our motto, "Ad astra per aspera." To the stars through adversity. God has made our country the United States so big that we can suit ourselves in regard to climate, wet or dry, cold or hot, etc. Don't stay and grumble in one place. After all it is more what a man is than where he is that makes him happy. ... I must thank God for dear old sweet home, prohibition Kansas.
Yours,
H.C. Bradbury
P.S. More about the California, Oregon and Washington exiles next time.

Lincoln Sentinel, July 16, 1903
A Flying Trip to California, Oregon and Washington

Good-by Southern California. By all your loving kindness, you have won our hearts....
"All aboard for San Francisco." The shore line of the southern Pacific Ocean. Man cannot describe it. ... The scenery is just magic for a dry land fellow. Every rock and lighthouse, ship or little boat or ocean breeze. Let others speak of the glories of San Francisco, a city of 350,000 inhabitants, lots of people everywhere, lots of old small wooden buildings and some nice new ones. Chinatown is there, too. We saw it, but did not explore its mysteries. We had only a few hours in town.
The only Lincoln exiles we could find in San Francisco were Tom Talbott and family, of Spring Creek, Lincoln County, Kan. They live on a big hill near the sky, and gave us a Lincoln welcome. Their daughter, Edna, is a Sabbath school teacher, as her mother was here a Sabbath school superintendent. Edna's husband, Mr. Saden, showed us through the union iron works and how they made the battleship Oregon. They have many iron ships in construction, and great cannon. Uncle Sam spends many millions there. We also saw an iron ship that could dive and swim under water, and attach [sic; probably attack] war vessels. But we must not trust in these. "Blessed is the man whose God is the Lord." ...
Mt. Shasta is over 14,000 feet high, and snow-clad and for many miles the railroads keep in sight of this, and run through deep ravines, and steep hillsides and near gold mines and forest trees, till at last it landed us at Ashland, the home of Edgar Pratt and family. We heard little children cry "cherries, strawberries" and on what fine baskets for 10 cents. Here we received a fine Mitchell county, Kan., welcome. He has a blessed good wife and three boys and a farm with a fruit orchard, and a gold mine on it. The trout stream nearby comes from a snow-clad mountain and furnishes the town with water enough to irrigate all the gardens and give them electric lights. A little trip up that stream to see the falls made us feel young again. Edgar reported only one-third of an inch of rain in three months, a wonderful thing for Oregon, the wet land.
At Portland, Ore., Rev. Harry Pratt, who used to preach at Lincoln, met us at the depot and took us to his fine home. He married Maude, a daughter of Rev. A Frick, M.E. preacher at Sylvan Grove. They are a success in church work and 40 new members have been added to the Forbes Presbyterian church during their short pastorate. Here we met Charles Anderson, the school teacher, a dear good boy hard at work with a big school, and a success. But still I believe God has chosen him for a minister, and he is studying for it too. As Minnie McDowell, of Salina, was there too, and Victoria Pratt and children of Saltville, Kan., we had an exile dinner at Harry Pratt's. There were eight of us. ...
Sedro-Woolley, the Lincoln colony, is away off in Washington, near the British line. But how could we return East without seeing our exiles there? So we went. It is away off in the woods'and such woods! So tall, cedar, spruce and hemlock, some 200 to 300 feet high. But they have been cut down where the town is, and some of the great stumps are 10 feet high, and so large that it would take three or four men to span them. They stand as monuments to the strength and perseverance of those brave men who slew them.
W. Pilcher, our old editor, was the first to greet us on the cars. He is a little fatter than when he left Lincoln. Soon we reached the depot, and George Green and Emerson Hammer and Tom Thompson Jr. received us joyfully and took us home with them, to Mrs. Green and Belle (Mrs. Hammer) and the children. Never could they treat brothers better. Such a home of plenty and love.
When morning dawned after a refreshing sleep, then breakfast and prayers, we must see all our dear ones from Lincoln. But how with only a day to do it. That was the question. So our hosts just invited all the exiles to meet at their home that evening.
The loggers' and shingle makers' camp is a jolly place of mostly young men. They have some music there when the day's work is done. Some parts of their work, I think, must be dangerous ' cutting down those mighty trees, kings of the forest. The single saws are very sharp and rapid. I noticed, besides a Methodist and Presbyterian church in town, an Episcopal hospital, for the ones who are injured. I know that George would be willing to appoint me chaplain for his camps. Surely someone could do lots of good for those fellows away from home, and the Master would reward one richly for such work.
One of the strongest men in the shingle factory is Hi Hammer ' our identical Lincoln Hi. He has no spare flesh, and is cheerful, as if his work agrees with him. Dave Parker works in the same mill. God has blessed Dave in every way. I will not describe the good homes of the ones I had time to visit.
But we must hurry on to the "Auld Lang Syne" meeting of the Lincoln exiles. "Don't call us exiles," said Mrs. H.L. Farley, "call us those who live in God's country."
I was amused as I talked with George Green on our way home from the factory. George is the father of the whole colony. He cares for them all. He wants Wallace Pilcher to become fat. You remember our baker, Henry Alten, tried to fatten him with good bread, and he had corn to eat, but all in vain, he was still very lean. Out there they have tried to fatten him with bear meat and big strawberries and blackberries and the finest of wheat, and really, he may have gained five or 10 pounds. But even yet he is too lean to be a credit to the climate of the state of Washington. So George at last has found out the secret of how to make Brother Pilcher fat. "I told him to throw away that old pipe," said George. He is right. Fat men often have told me they smoked to become lean, a remedy often worse than the disease. So you see a lean man may become a skeleton if he doesn't quit. As our old editor has now a large fat newspaper office he may yet gain much bodily size and beauty.

Lincoln Sentinel, July 23, 1903
Auld Lang Syne Meeting

Often ' very often ' a cold wave of homesickness swept over us on our travels, as we saw so many people we had never met before. But joy filled our hearts as we greeted the dear old Lincoln friends at Sedro-Woolley. It called to my mind other days, when I had been sheltered at their cheerful firesides in Kansas, on many a stormy winter night.
The Green and Hammer mansion is quite large and comfortable, all things were ready, and early in the evening they came bounding in with great cheer, till at last 58 persons were present. Five of the children are Lincoln Washingtonians by birth, the others all came from Lincoln. I did feel like obeying Saint Paul ' Romans 16:16 ' and saluting them all with a holy kiss. In other days I had preached the gospel to them, and they had always been so kind to me. Some of them, since we last met, had been parted by death from a mother, a father, or a child. Others had left Kansas in hard times and now are on their feet all right. They had even, in the early days, fought Indians [in Kansas], and had seen the clouds of grasshoppers devouring everything green. Children were there whom I had baptized, but now they are young men and women. Some, whom I used to hold on my knee, are married and have sons and daughters much older than their parents were when I first came to Lincoln.
One family there left Lincoln in 1883; the last family had arrived from Lincoln in April 1903. But the hearts of all are warm with love for old Lincoln, and they had 500 questions to ask about the dear ones left behind, and about Kansas now. As they told of old times, our hearts were all aglow, and we sang a verse of "Auld Lang Syne."
The ice cream came in just right, and so did this instrumental music, furnished by Thomas E. Thompson Jr. and his sister Laura. I almost forget some of the advice I gave them in my little fatherly talk, but I know I told them that we Lincoln people are proud of them, and believe God sent them West to do much good. Their works already show what they have done, but they must keep on and see happiness by obeying God's commands, and have joy inside them, and so be happy on any shore. ...
Then we sang "Sweet Bye and Bye." Mrs. George Green gave out this song, and all rendered it with a hearty good will, singing with the spirit and understanding.
Then everyone called for Hi Hammer, and he at last arose and took us back to 1890 in Kansas ' and a little before ' when drought and mortgages and hard times prevailed in the Western counties ' we had almost forgotten about it. He made some sad pictures, and ended by saying that he believed that none in Sedro-Woolley now want to return to Kansas to live. "Still it would be nice to go back there to visit," he said. I excused Hi for making such a speech, for he has been away from the Sunflower state for 13 years. He does not know what our state is now in her prosperity, when we have found out how to run things, and God has blessed us. Surely, Hi Hammer is now a very strong, healthy man. He should stand up for Sedro-Woolley, Wash.
Mrs. George Green made the next speech. She told us, in a very good-natured way, that she "was the first one to reach Sedro-Woolley and all the others had followed." And well they might follow, for she knows how to care for all the sick people and those in need, can cheer up the downhearted and direct in times of prosperity, can point to a better land on high, and lead the way.
Emerson Hammer is now Sen. Hammer, and is greatly respected. Big Jim Smith has now a government position, and has gone to Seattle, Wash. Frank Wilmarth is a carpenter. We just sat down and counted off 85 persons, in or near Sedro-Woolley, all from Lincoln or vicinity, and all doing well. So I cannot take time to tell what all are doing and how they look. George Green says, "There is room for more who want to work, but no room for bums or lazy folks out here in Woolley."
The meeting closed with prayer and "God Be With You Till We Meet Again."
The following are the names of the Lincoln exiles now living in Sedro-Woolley, with the dates of their arrival there ' as many as could be obtained.

H.L. Farley, Dec. 7, 1883
C.H. Webb, April 9, 1903
C.E. Thompson, March 28, 1898
Mrs. H.C. Phelps, April 1889
Mrs. H.L. Farley, Dec. 1884
Lizzie Parker, March 25, 1893
Frank Wilmarth, Nov. 12, 1888
Mrs. C.H. Webb, April 1903
Fred Heeren (Herren?), March 26, 1893
Thomas E. Thompson Jr., April 2, 1898
Laura Thompson, March 27, 1898
Martha Farnsworth, June 29, 1902
W.H. Pilcher, Sept. 30, 1902
Mrs. Anna Pilcher, Sept. 30, 1902
Mrs. Frank Wilmarth, Sept. 1902
Mrs. E. Hammer, Sept. 1902
Christine Thompson, March 1898
Sophronia Farnsworth, March 1902
Mary Farnsworth, May 1902
H. Hammer and wife, Sept. 25, 1890
George Green, May 2, 1892
Mrs. George Green, May 2, 1902
Clara Farley, May 21, 1886
Nellie Parker, March 25, 1893
Mary Hammer, Lelah Wilmarth, Francis Pilcher, October 1903 [sic]
Maggie Thompson, March 1898
Ella Thompson, March 1898
Nellie Pilcher, October 1902
Gladys Pilcher, October 1903 [sic]
Josie Parker, March 25, 1893
Frank Parker, John Parker, Robert Parker, W.S. McNitt and wife, Mr. McRay and wife, John Downes and wife, Chan Ingham, wife and family of four, Charles Shaw, Hattie Molestail nee Hattie Hammer, Sept. 25, 1890
D.J. Parker, March 25, 1893
Kittie Hammer, Sept. 25, 1890
Bee Hedrick, Doc Wood, Carl Thompson, Charles Kelley, Doc Northern, E. Hammer, Feb. 1889
Ira Webb, Elmer Webb, Mabel Webb, Harry Hammer, James McCabe, John Cleary and family of nine, Burlington; George Snyder, Burlington; C. Stogsdill and family of six; Louis Kirkby and family of three; Mrs. J.C. Richardson and family of four.

P.S. Question: I have just sold my Kansas farm; in what state do you advise me to settle.
Answer. Go and see, and suit yourself. Any place on God's footstool is good enough for you and me. Perhaps Kansas will do. But try first to get saved by Christ, and when your heart is all right you can enjoy everything and thank God, the Maker of all. If you must have a mild climate on account of consumptive tendencies, Southern California has cured many. But give me a climate with "lots of git-up," like Kansas.

 

 

Obituary of Rev. H.C. Bradbury

From the Lincoln Sentinel, June 7, 1923

The second son of the Rev. Elbridge and Mary J. Bradbury was born at Williamsport, Pa., Aug. 15, 1844.

He received his early educational training at the Classical Insititute at Hudson, N.Y., and graduated from Amherst College, his father's alma mater, in 1866, and from Union Theological Seminary, N.Y., in 1871. While taking his seminary course he spent three years in city mission work in the slums of New York City.
In 1872 the Presbyterian Board of Home Missions commissioned him to take charge of the mission work in Ottawa, Mitchell and Lincoln counties with the addition of Wilson and Elkhorn in Ellsworth County. He first located at Minneapolis where, after much difficulty, he succeeded in accomplishing the organization of that church about 51 years ago. A little later he was instrumental in the organization of the Beloit church, often having walked from Minneapolis, a distance of 40 miles or more, to conduct services at Beloit. In addition to these the churches of Lincoln, Delphos, Bennington, Barnard, Wilson, Sylvan Grove, Vesper, Elkhorn, Harmony, Pleasant Dale, Pleasant Valley, Pinon, Shiloh, Westfall and others owe their organization and many of their existence to his untiring efforts.
Mr. Bradubry was married at Minneapolis on the 25th day of October, 1875, to Miss Elma A. Boblett of that place. To this union six children were born. They are: Augusta U., wife of Rev. D.H. Hare of Caldwell, Idaho; Mrs. Eunice Thompson (deceased), wife of James K. Thompson of Topeka; Mrs. Mary J. Baker, wife of Raymond E. Baker of Albany, Ore.; Edward A. of Los Angeles; Ruth E., Mrs. Harold B. Thomas, of Pittsburgh, Pa., and Esther J., Mrs. Fred R. Muson of Topeka. All these except Eunice, with his wife and 16 grandchildren, survive him.
Mr. Bradbury was a man of sterling integrity, deep piety, and a generosity that never considered any sacrifice too great when duty called or relief was needed. To meet him was a guarantee of an everlasting friendship never to be forgotten, and hundreds of true friends of every class and condition will miss his cordial and genial handshake. Neither distance, nor cold, nor heat, nor storm nor any other obstacle could detain him from filling an appointment or responding to a call for services.
It is thought that he has officiated at more funerals and performed more marriage ceremonies in Lincoln County and vicinity in the last 50 years than all the other ministers combined. Young people by the scores whose parents he had married and to whom he had in their infancy administered the sacred sacrament of Baptism were constantly coming to him that they might, by him, also be united in the holy bonds of matrimony.
When the end came he quietly and peacefully fell asleep in Jesus on the 29th day of May, 1923, at the age of 89 years, 9 months and 27 days.
Truly we can use the language of the old apostle without any doubt of its application or appropriateness. "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith." And we can rest assured that he has gone to wear the crown which God the righteous Judge has prepared for him in this day.
The funeral was held in the Presbyterian Church in Lincoln on Friday, June 1, conducted by the Rev. R.L. Barackman, D.D., who incorporated in his discourse the message from the Rev. S.S. Estey, D.D., pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Topeka, which will appear elsewhere in this paper. Dr. Barackman was also assisted by the Rev.W.H. Course, an intimate and longtime friend of Bro. Bradbury, the Rev. H.C. MacMican, pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Sylvan Grove, and the Rev. S.E. Colglazier, pastor of the Church of Christ at this place.
The pall bearers were elders from different churches in Lincoln County that Bro. Bradbury had founded and served in earlier days. The floral tribute was in keeping with the taste he had for the beautiful in nature and especially for flowers, and came from the hearts and hands of many loving donors. But the love and esteem in which our Brother was held was best of all demonstrated by the great concourse of people who thronged the church beyond its capacity to express their esteem for the man whose place no one else can ever fill as he has done.
[Buried in Lincoln Cemetery.]

Tribute to Rev. H.C. Bradbury

(An editorial from the Topeka Daily Capital, reprinted in the Lincoln Sentinel, June 7, 1923

One of Kansas' Builders

There died last week in Kansas a man of remarkable character whose services to the northern part of the state for upwards of 40 years were worthy of the memorial service held in his honor yesterday by the Sunday school of the First Presbyterian Church, whose missionary he was.

H.C. Bradbury came of wealthy people in New York, was educated at Amherst College and Andover Theological Seminary, entered slum work in New York City and soon as a young man came to Kansas to lay foundations for churches and Sunday schools on the frontiers of the state. That was more than 40 years ago. He inherited two moderate fortunes and invested them in his work, dying as he had lived dependent upon the small renumeration paid to him as a missionary church builder. He never held a pastorate, leaving when a church had been established to lay the foundations of another. He was an unworldly man, of the greatest simplicity, with a singleness and integrity of purpose that set him apart. He was anything but a practical man, yet his work will live after him and is a part of Kansas.

Many amusing stories are told of H.C. Bradbury. With all his simplicity he was the hero of episodes which in an early day enhanced his prestige among the people for whom he labored. On Johnston day at the Chamber of Commerce Forum, Chief Justice Johnston told a story of Bradbury's first appearance in Kansas at Minneapolis. As a tenderfoot a job was put up on him by the boys of Minneapolis which was a favorite stunt at the time. He was steered up against an amateur boxer of local fame. But after some sparring Bradbury knocked the local champion cold. It was remarked of him by Dr. Estey in the memorial service yesterday that he was the only Presbyterian minister who knelt at the puplit in prayer, and this was a familiar scene in the First Presbyterian church when Mr. Bradbury visited to report on his work. A Presbyterian woman said of him that she had the feeling that the oof might easily open and Bradbury ascend, as he knelt praying fervently for the spread of the Kingdom of God, like Elijah, with heavenly chariots and horsemen. Recently he visited California and while there was advised by friends that in the California climate he would live 10 years longer. "If it is just the same with you," he replied, "I would rather spend those 10 years in heaven."

Such a man merits remembrance and honor, and has left a memorial in many a church spire in northern Kansas all up the Solomon Valley and beyond to testify of his labors. He was a builder on deep and lasting foundations.