Vermilion County IL Archives Obits.....Sanders, Rev Minnie 1965
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From the Georgetown Newspaper, Tuesday, February 16, 1965
 
Obituary of Rev. Minnie Sanders
(1893-1965)
 
Rev. Minnie Sanders, Georgetown Minister, Passes Away at Home
 
Maybe it was because she always remembered your name.  
 
Born in the backwoods of West Virginia, left motherless at two 
and lacking formal education after the age of 15, Minnie seemed 
indeed an unlikely prospect for doing great work for the Master, 
However, when she was converted, she knew that she had to preach.
 
She had come to Georgetown in 1911 to care for a sister who was 
ill.  She stayed on here and married Lawrence Hollingsworth.  Now 
she was a married woman, not very well educated and she would 
attempt to preach in an age when women preachers were looked down 
on and considered fanatics. Three years later, when she presented 
herself to the authorities at Presbytery and asked for license to 
preach, a man in the congregation audibly sniffed: "Ain't that 
pitiful?"
 
Minnie was called a short time later to West York, Illinois to 
preach one sermon in the absence of the regular minister. She was 
to be the recipient of a "free-will" offering which turned out to 
be fifty cents.  When the services were over, a church member 
took her in his buggy to the station to catch a train back to 
Georgetown.  The good Deacon never inquired about her financial 
state and the fare home was $2.00.  Minnie had only .50 cents.  
She walked back and forth on the platform in the dark balmy Sunday 
night and wondered what to do.  Finally, as she heard the whistle, 
she decided that she'd ask the conductor to take her as far as the 
50 cents would let her ride and she'd walk the track the rest of 
the way home.
 
As the train steamed to a stop, she heard a man come whistling 
around the corner of the station. "Minnie," he said, "I have some 
tithe money that I got to thinking maybe you could use," and he 
pressed $2.00 into her hand.
 
When she arrived at home the night was deep and the chill air had 
settled down--but she was locked out. Women preachers were frowned 
upon--and home was no exception.  Two hounddogs were members of 
the family, so Minnie aroused them and took them to the wood shed 
where she lay down between the two of them for warmth and slept 
until morning.  Not allowed to have light on after a certain time 
of the evening, she spent many hours by the window reading her 
Bible by moonlight.
 
It wasn't long until people found that this odd woman-preacher 
would go anywhere at anytime to help people (a cup of cold water).  
More and more she was called upon to officiate at funerals. She 
passed the 5000 mark in funerals some time ago. Of weddings, she 
lost track after 3500.
 
Once, in a deep February snow, the grave-digger had cleared only 
a small place in the snow around the burial site, with a tiny 
space at the head of the casket for the preacher to stand.  A
pall-bearer, who didn't like women preachers and who had been 
fortifying himself for sometime with alcohold, guided the others 
of his party to swing the casket around in such a manner as to 
knock Minnie over backward into the mound of snow.
 
Such indignities hurt but never swerved her from her purpose of 
serving mankind, whom she considered essentially good. Called 
upon once to preside at the funeral of a young girl suicide, 
she was much criticized by members of the girl's faith who 
would not permit the girl to be buried in their cemetery because 
of the questionable circumstances of her death. Bearing the 
outside of criticism with courtly dignity, Minnie walked up the 
steps of her own church to be met by a woman member who demanded 
"What are you going to preach about "that" girl?" Stung by this 
Phariseeical judgement, Minnie replied: "I will neither preach 
her to high Heaven nor consign her to the lower regions. She is 
in the hand of God.  I'll just preach to sinners like you!"  
Whereupon she took her text from Jesus' own words "Neither do I 
condemn thee--go thou, and sin no more!"
 
Reflecting the love that she preached about, Minnie recognized 
neither social classes nor color lines.  Many times she was 
called upon to preach in the local churches which are comprised 
totally of Negro people.  Despite the fact that she was reared 
south of the Mason-Dixon, she fellowshipped with all Christian 
people regardless of their race or color.
 
There was always a depth to her sermons which were flavored with 
homespun but deadly accurate observations. "A Christian," she 
would say, "just can't run with the hounds."  Or, refusing at 
any point to rest on her laurels she would exclaim:  "You wash 
your face today and again tomorrow."  Her sermons were apt to be 
unorthodox but pithy.  She preached a funeral service using the 
example of Elijah's miracle in making the ax float and then stood 
behind the pulpit of her own church and left an indelible memory 
with her listeners on the subject of "More than Much," the story 
of the Widow's Mite.  After this she was "as empty as an old tin 
bucket which has been turned over and drained dry."
 
"For them that honor me I will honour."  (I Sam. 2:30).  
 
In spite of the indignities and troubles, life was not all 
difficult.  Widowed in 1942, Minnie was married again, this time 
to Russell Sanders in 1947.  In 1961 she received a gold plaque 
from the Alumni Association of Georgetown High School for 
"Distinguished service to the community."  This plaque has 
occupied an honored place in her living-room from the day she
received it.
 
So universally loved was she taht whil in Carle Clinic a nurse 
was one day moved to ask "Why would an old woman like that receive 
so many baskets of mail?"  That mail came from people like the 
young man who had, 4 years before, called her from a tavern to 
tell her that he was going to take his life.  Hastily calling a 
friend to take her to the place (she could not drive an automobile) 
she found the young man and after talking to him for a long time, 
he committed himself to psychiatric treatment and today he lives 
happily--free from such mental compulsions as self-destruction.
 
In spite of the honors, Minnie never lost her humility.  A short 
time ago, the local funeral director who has worked with her 
countless times, asked her in jest:  "Do you think you've done
any good in this world, Minnie?"  She answered in all seriousness, 
"Just a smatterin', Raymon, "Just a smatterin."
 
The secret of her all-encompassing personality was locked in one 
word--"Love".
 
When she announced to her church that she would have to have 
surgery for a malignant condition, she called her people around 
the altar and prayed a prayer of commital to the will of God.  
She then asked for the recitation of this poem which summed up 
her philosophy of life and gave her last instructions to her 
people:  
 
When I'm through with this Old Clay House of mine
When no more guid-lights through its windows shine
Just box it up and lay it away
With the other clay houses of yesterday.
And with it, my friends, do try, if you can
To bury the wrong since first I began.
Just look in this house, very deep and forget
For I want to be square and out of your debt.
When I meet the Grand Architect, Supreme,
Face to face, I want to be clean.
Of course, I know its too late to men
A badly--built house when you come to the end.
But to you who are building--just look over mine
Then make your alterations
While yet there is time.
Just study this house--no tears should be shed.
Its like any clay house when the tenant has fled.
Don't midunderstand me--this old world's Divine
With love, birds and flowers
And glorious sunshine.
Its a wonderful place and a wonderful plan
And a wonderful, wonderful gift to man.
But somehow, we feel, when the cycle's complete
There are dear ones across that we're anxious to meet.
So open the books and check up the past.
No more forced balances, this is the last.
Each item is checked. Each page must be clean.
Thats the passport we carry
To the Builder Supreme.
So when I am through with this old house of clay
Just lock it up tightly and lay it away.
For the Builder has promised, when this house is spent
To have one all ready with the timber I sent.
You ask what material is best to select?
'Twas told you long since by the Great Architect.
"A new commandment I give unto you
That ye love one another as I have loved you."
So the finest material to send up above
Is clear, straight-grained timber
of Brotherly Love.
 
Survivors are her husband, Russell Sanders; three step-daughters, 
Mrs. Elizabeth Patten of New Port Richey, Fla.; Mrs. Mary Jane 
Bishop of Kansas, Ill., and Mrs. Hazel Hegedus of Westville, Ill.; 
a half-sister, Mrs. Edna Lewis of Indianaola; three half-brothers, 
Fred James of Daniels, W. Va., Preston James of Robson, W. Va., 
and Leonard James of Liberty, W. Va.; four grandchildren and seven 
great-grandchildren.  Two sisters and four brothers preceded her 
in death.
 
Funeral services were held at the Georgetown Presbyterian Church, 
with the Rev. Stanton Lawyer of Charleston officiating assisted by 
the Rev. Roy McMahon of Potomac.  Ministers of Foster Presbytery 
served as honorary pall-bearers.  Interment was in the Forest Park 
Cemetery, Georgetown, with the Houghton Funeral Home in charge of 
arrangements.

File at: http://files.usgwarchives.net/il/vermilion/obits/msanders.txt