In early 1936 Cliff started attending Bible classes, mainly because some of his friends were.
Working on farms had meant few opportunities for socialising, and there were boys and girls in Bible class. The fact they were getting home from church as late as 11pm suggests that they were having fun — female company had “a good deal to do with it.” He met one of the girls again in 1992 and they exchanged a kiss and a hug although they hadn’t met in years.
Then in April 1936, three months after leaving that miserable man WH, he went to an Easter Bible Camp at Whananaki that he says changed his life.
He’d been living at home since quitting WH and no longer working on farms.
On April the 8th, he wrote, it was life as usual. He carried coal in the morning, worked the drilling rig at the mine for a while and nailed tin around the aviary that held Jack’s pigeons.
On April the 9th he cycled out to Whananaki, having overhauled his bike for the trip.
On the 10th (Good Friday) he enjoyed himself immensely — the meals were excellent.
On the 11th (Sports Day) he came second in the 880 Yards and the Mile.
On the 12th he gave himself to God — “signed on for Christ”.
On 13th (Easter Monday) he didn’t take Communion — because he didn’t know whether he should or not. There was a cross-country race, and they walked along the beach.
Next day he was back home. “All that remains of the camp is just the wonderful pleasant memory of the many friends I have made and of the wonderful happiness that has come to me.”
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Fifty-six years later Cliff wrote:
There is no doubt that the weekend’s experiences radically changed my life. Without it I would’ve developed an entirely different character, of that I am certain.
That is not to say that I would’ve become in any way a bad character. My strict discipline and upbringing would’ve saved me from that. The experience changed my attitude to people and to life in general. The past few years had hardened and embittered me, and made me more than a little vicious, for want of a better word.
Times were very hard. Dad and I were both out of work at times and were employed only for short periods at the mine, as work became available. The last Waro (Hikurangi) mine was just being started.
On Saturday mornings I delivered fish for two and six (50c).
I took on a gorse cutting contract for my old boss Colin. For £3 ($6) I undertook to cut 1–1/4 acres of 8–10’ high gorse — half a hectare, 2.4–3m high — on the stony ground above their house.
To keep me company more than anything else, I asked Alf if he would like to participate. Unfortunately he said yes. I did 90% of the work and Alf spent most of the time sharpening his slasher, and he had one day off sick.
Poor Alf died last Thursday, and purely by chance I saw him that afternoon in hospital. He was sitting down with his head between his legs mumbling away, and all I could hear was that he wanted to die. When he looked up he looked terrible. I was sure his wish would be granted.
I’ve included this to try and illustrate the mood that seemed to prevail in 1936. More than a little desperate.
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Cliff became deeply committed to the Church.
He describes catching the 5.00 o’clock bus with a bunch of friends for the June Bible Class rally, for example. He didn’t get to sleep that night until 3.00 am but was up for communion at 7 am. The Sunday church service was at 11 am, Bible study at 2:30 with a prayer meeting to follow. Church again at 7 pm, then supper. A friend drove them home at 9:45pm.
He’d met many new friends, and was more than a little impressed by a lovely young girl, who “no doubt” increased his interest in the church. The opposite sex was a big influence on Bible class attendance, and not just for him. Classes and lectures would be followed by supper and games, which were always very enjoyable and well patronised.
Afterwards the boys would escort the girls home. 1992 was by no means the first time he’d shared a hug and a kiss with the lady he met again that year, and there were other girls as well.
From then on he took part in most church activities, undertaking more responsibilities as time went by. He conducted Junior Bible class, and at times the Senior class as well.
One night there were only three at Senior class, which had previously been well attended. It had been finishing rather late, and the Mums and Dads were beginning to worry about their daughters’ welfare, and their behaviour at such a late hour. When the girls stopped attending so did the boys. At times his faith was sorely tried! — but they began to hold Bible Class an hour earlier and attendance picked again.
In late 1936 he began working for Fred Galpin, a very religious man, and this also helped to sustain his faith. When we bought our own farm on Jordan Valley Road, Dad used to point out Fred’s farm, which was on Apotu Road, on the ridge we could see to our South. It was Mrs Galpin who’d enjoyed Colin’s and Cliff’s singing back in the day.
During this time he tried hard to set an example as a representative of Jesus Christ, and played soccer, rugby, rugby league and athletics. Being a working class town, Hikurangi was a league stronghold and Nipper Gibson its most famous player. Dad was proud of beating him in the hundred yards race.
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In November 1936 he managed to get a job at the Hikurangi Post Office, a sought-after, secure job in tough times. He worked there until March 12, 1940, when he was transferred to Paparoa, where he was to meet the love of his life.
He wrote about leaving Hikurangi: “I am blessed with many friends. Friends and God’s love. Our love of God and friends, and the service of God and mankind, are the great blessings of this earth.” Many of those friends he never met again.
There was a trip to the beach at Matapouri and a visit to see the Vinings and the Smiths, and his old pal Creamy, still as beautiful as ever.
When he left there were presents and compliments — the “best postman ever” on his run.
His mother was miserable, breaking down in tears, afraid he’d forget her. His little sister Evelyn, who would have been about twelve, kissed him goodbye. Cliff thought she was fine but his mother said she was heartbroken.
“Dad is alright,” he wrote, but “I must be cold and hard because it didn’t worry me at all to leave.”