"SPOOKING 'ROUND MEMORY'S GARRET"
-- submitted by Jean Hudson McNamara May, 1997
THE WAYNE INDEPENDENT, HONESDALE, PA
SATURDAY, MAY 7, 1927
"SPOOKING 'ROUND MEMORY'S GARRET"
by Frank P. Woodward
Recently a letter from Samuel H. Swingle, of California, but a Wayne County, Pennsylvania boy all the same, was published in which he wanted to trace, if possible, the relative lineage of the Swingles of this part of the United States with that of the great Swiss reformer of the 15th century. While the writer hereof has nothing to offer outside of his sincere belief that the Swingles of this time were the Zwinglis of the Reformation period, he believes that a brief statement of the historic facts regarding the said Reformer will be appreciated by such of his readers as are interested along such lines of thought and meditation. A quote from Everybody's Cyclopedia followed . . .
In my time I have known a large number of people who bear the name of Swingle. The majority of those I have known were "true to form" and tradition as far as religion is concerned. Almost as far back as I can remember anything, I recall people by the name of Swingle. About a mile up the Middle Creek from what is now Clemo but which then was widely and popularly known as Robertson's tannery, there was a little sawmill of the up-and-down variety. For a time it was owned by my father and the sawyer was James Hazelton, father of the Hazelton brothers who for years lived near Lakeville, then called Hemlock Hollow. Right near that mill, on the opposite side of the road, lived Milo and Artemus Swingle. The houses and the mill vanished years ago. My recollection of those brothers is that both of them belonged to the class that people of those days used to refer to as being "good." A brother of Milo and Artemus was Sanford Swingle. I have told you previously of how he was a lame man, and was a preacher. Well do I remember when he held a revival in the school house at Cherry Valley (now Hoadleys.) He was a very earnest man and I have heard him preach when actual tears coursed down his cheeks.
At the present time I am thinking of Washington Swingle, who for years has been a well-recognized preacher in South Canaan. He is nearing the century mark as regards age, thus realizing the promise that is made in the last verse of the 91st Psalm--"With long life will I satisfy him, and show him my salvation." I know other Swingles who are right up to the limit as to business and agricultural qualifications. In the day when the Pa. Coal Company's gravity railroad was in operation, the name of Swingle was conspicuous on the payroll of that corporation. There seemed to be at least one Swingle in every department. There was a Swingle who "unhooked" cars at the head of No. 13 plane at Hawley; another Swingle "hooked on" cars at No. 15, a mile and a-half from where this is written; Ezra Swingle operated the stationary engine at No. 15, and he was one of the most original personages I ever ran across. You have doubtless heard of individuals who were referred to as being "as odd as Dick's hatband"; well, Ezra Swingle certainly belonged to that class. He was odd; he was original; he was like himself and like no other person in real life or in the realm of imaginary creation. He looked odd; he dressed odd; he talked odd; he evidently was an odd thinker. He was a strange mixture of religion, romance, rubbish, riddles, revolution and reverence. His idiosyncrasies were recognized by all the runners of the gravity railroad as well as by his neighbors and general acquaintances. He was misunderstood by those who were not well acquainted with his pecularities, but his heart was in the right place and he was as harmless as a child. An incident he related to me occurs to my mind as I write.
For some reason unknown to me there arose a difference of opinion between Mr. Swingle and the preacher who at the time was located on the Cherry Ridge charge. It may have been something "concerning Heaven," as Will Carleton describes in his well-known story of "Betsy And I Are Out." Whatever it may have been it caused strained relations between the minister and the operator of No. 15 stationary engine. That was in the days of camp meetings, and in due time that popular local event was held, and among other attendants was the individual of whom I am writing. He told me his experience shortly after the meeting was held. He said he went up to the minister with whom he differed and told him he wanted him to take a walk with him down in the woods. He said the minister acted afraid, and wanted to know the object of the proposed walk. Swingle assured him it meant peace, and the twain proceeded to a lonely part of the forest where they were not observed and where the boundary of the camp was marked by a slab fence such as was common at that period of time. Over this fence leaped Swingle, but the preacher did not follow him, and to the invitation to "Come on!" refused to proceed any farther, demanding to know what was meant by his companion. The minister acted frightened, and when it is borne in mind that Swingle had a very grave and serious visage, who can wonder if the clergyman was a trifle nervous? Swingle said that when the preacher refused to get over the fence he returned to the side where the minister was and, to the demand that he should declare his intentions, explained that he was aware that the preacher thought he was not living right and he had induced the pastor to come aside with him because he wanted him to pray that wherein he was wrong he might be made right. For about the preacher he did not reveal to me, but I opine it was along lines that were unmistakable and decidedly plain so that there might be no error made in answering the petition.
On another occasion Swingle was an attendant (possibly a member) of a church that sometimes specialized on the subject of plainness of clothing. He listened to such an address one Sunday and seemed much impressed with what he had listened to. He made no comment but left the building at the conclusion of the services evidently deep in meditation over what he had heard. On the following Sunday he astonished folks by entering the building where services were being held, dressed in overalls that had been patched, without coat, barefooted and bare-headed. Seating himself in a prominent place, he settled down to listen to the sermon. But, under such circumstances, what preacher could do justice to any subject? That is the question. When remonstrated with for coming to church thus attired -- no, I mean un-attired -- all the explanation Mr. Swingle vouchsafed was to inquire, "Well, isn't this what the preacher said was the proper way to go to meeting?"
There is a hazy notion in my memory that I have previously told the above incidents. If so, it was a long time ago, and no harm is intended or has been done by the re-telling of the stories. I want to emphasize the fact that it required a brave man to do what Mr. Swingle did, and also to repeat the fact that he was a very kindhearted man, a good neighbor and a patriotic citizen who was an out-and-out Republican and supporter of President Lincoln and the Civil War when it was not popular to be so recognized in Cherry Ridge township.
