Chapter 10: 1847-1851, My brother’s keeper

Rebecca Ross Dickey had died in the spring of 1835, and the Reverend William Dickey had remarried to Miss Eleanor Ghormley in late January of the following year. Since that time, he had been preoccupied with his pastoral duties at Bloomingburg, helping fugitive slaves move northward to freedom and raising a new crop of children with his second wife. Beginning in 1847, however, there were a number of people and events which intruded upon his comfortable routine of the past several years.

2 Indeed, that year witnessed the construction of a new sanctuary for the congregation. It was a simple, one-story frame building, but it was quite an improvement for folks who had been used to meeting in a one room log cabin. And, although both the interior and exterior walls were painted white, the wooden pews and pulpit were carved and finished to look almost luxurious. And, finally, the new church provided more places to temporarily hide and/or house runaway slaves.

3 On the first Sabbath after the new building had been completed, Reverend Dickey noticed a lone black man approaching the structure from the south. He instinctively raised his right hand to his forehead to shelter his eyes and get a better look at him. Never taking his eyes off the pastor, the young man quickened his pace and came at last to where he was standing.

4 William spoke first. “Good morning, sir, and God’s blessings to you!” “Good morning, and thank you,” the young man returned.

5 “Are you the Reverend Dickey I’ve heard so much about?” he asked with an eager look. “If you’ve heard a lot about me, I hope that it is all good and true,” William chuckled.

6 “And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?” the pastor continued. The man just stood there studying William’s face. “What’s your name, son?” he repeated.

7 “My name is Sampson – like the king in the Bible,” he finally replied. “He was actually a judge,” the pastor smiled. “My mother told me he was the strongest king, uh, judge that’s ever lived,” Sampson replied with a frown. “He was a very strong man,” the pastor agreed. “But he wasn’t a very good judge of women!”

8 “Oh,” Sampson replied. “Well, I haven’t taken a wife yet.” William laughed as he patted the young man on the shoulder. “I’m sure that you’ll choose a nice young lady one of these days,” the pastor told him.

9 “Now, what is it that we can do for you today?” William asked. “Did you come from Kentucky?” he continued before the young man could reply.

10 “No, sir, I came from Virginia,” the young man answered in a quiet voice. “I see,” the pastor continued. “Where did you cross the river then? And How did you hear about me and this place?” he continued.

11 “My master beat me, and he sold my brother south,” Sampson began. “That’s when I decided to run away,” he explained. “Then I met some boys down at the river that told me about you, and they said you lived at Bloomingburg.”

12 “How did you ever find your way here?” William asked in amazement. “I kept askin folks along the way, and I got heres over time,” the man explained.

13 “Well, I suspect you’re hungry, and that you’ll be wantin a place to stay?” William asked. “Yes, sir,” Sampson replied.

14 “We can talk about sending you on tomorrow, but let’s get you fed for right now,” the pastor offered. “Excuse me, sir, I don’t means no disrespect; but I’m tired of runnin,” the man told him with a sincerity that touched something deep inside of him. “Well, that’s okay, we can talk about that later,” the pastor assured him.

15 Sampson ate a large bowl of stew and slept that night in the sanctuary. He refused, however, any attempts to discuss moving on to the next station. “I likes it here,” he kept telling them.

16 Finally, after a week of this back and forth, William intervened. “We can’t have you living in the sanctuary forever,” he began. “So, I was wondering if you would care to stay with me and my family for a while?”

17 “Yes, sir, that would be fine!” Sampson beamed. “If you’re willing, you could help me around the house and sanctuary for now; and we can see about finding you more permanent work later,” the pastor explained. Sampson shook his head and smiled.

18 Over the months that followed, William helped Sampson Tuck to get established in the community. And he eventually married and settled down in a home of his own next to William’s place. Remembering the pastor’s kindness to him, many years later, he would name one of his sons William.

19 While things were working out for Sampson, however, the nation was still struggling over the future of the institution from which he had escaped. California had applied to be admitted to the Union as a free state, and the South was howling that this would upset the balance between slave and free states.

20 In an attempt to settle the matter, Congress enacted what is now known as The Compromise of 1850. In reality, “The Compromise” was several different pieces of legislation which were intended to give both sides incentives to maintain the status quo. And the piece of that puzzle that would have the most impact on William and his friends was the Fugitive Slave Act.

21 This legislation coerced officials within the free states to assist people from the slave states who wanted to recover their “property” – the runaway slaves that the Ohio Presbyterians had been helping. Their work had been dangerous before, but this legislation would make it even more difficult.

22 In fact, William’s pro-slavery neighbors had never liked the fact that William and his congregation were actively undermining an institution which they felt was essential to their continued success and happiness. “We can’t have niggers comin up here to take our jobs,” one man said. “And they ain’t the same as us, they’re a bunch of nasty, lazy thieves!” another proclaimed.

23 In this atmosphere, it didn’t take long for an angry mob to form and march toward the sanctuary. At the time, William and a few of his congregants were seeing to the needs of three fugitives from Kentucky. They heard a commotion outside of the church, and the pastor turned toward one of the windows to see what was happening.

24 A rock shattered the window next to the one from which he was peering. “You devils come outta there!” someone shouted.

25 “Behold, this habitation of devils, and hold of every foul spirit!” another exclaimed while pointing at the church. “Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil!” William shouted back through the broken window.

26 “How can you claim to serve the same God who approves of the institution of slavery in both Testaments?” someone asked without expecting an answer. “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus,” William answered anyway.

27 “Why are you helping those devils?” another demanded. “For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in,” the pastor answered from within.

28 The mob eventually dispersed, and William and the others resumed ministering to their guests. “We sure is thankful for what you is doin,” one of the former slaves told them. “You is the real Christians,” another volunteered. “I am my brother’s keeper,” the pastor told them as tears streamed down his cheeks.

29 William Dickey continued his work until his death one day shy of his eighty-third birthday. In fact, he delivered his last sermon to his beloved congregation just a little over a week before his death. “I guess you could say he died doin his work,” Sampson told his wife.