In His Own Words

  “While running a small hotel in the middle west back in 1919, I became intensely interested in religion, and providentially joined the Seventh-day Adventists.  They were at the time meeting in a rented hall, not too attractive for a church.  The people appeared to be very poor.  Aside from the preacher I was the only one that was driving a car, and he had a worn out Ford that I would not have given a dollar for it if I had to drive it.

   Imagine now what went through my mind, and you may know that I joined the church only for Truth's sake.  Indeed, I had no other encouragement.  My hopes of getting rich someday became a nightmare of getting poorer.  Yes, the Devil gave me as good a picture of poverty as he gave the Lord a picture of the glory of the kingdoms.  I nevertheless resolved to stay by the Truth I had learned regardless what happened.

   Then the time came that I sold the hotel and accidentally got into a grocery business.  But after a time I found that I did not want to be in it, and I sold it at a loss.  Then that dark and gloomy picture of coming poverty enlarged itself a hundred-fold, but I did my best to keep happy in the Lord.

   Some time after I had disposed of the grocery store, I left the city, and six months later I landed in California.  There I took sick, and after doing all I knew what to do, one of the retired Seventh-day Adventist ministers that lived in the same place where I was living, said, "Let me take you to the Glendale Sanitarium, and I will recommend you as of good and regular standing with the church, and they will give you good service and a lower rate, too."

   When we got to the desk, and after the minister told him all he had to say, the sanitarium clerk asked me what kind of a deposit I could leave for admission.  I said, "A check." (It somewhat surprised me, for I had been in a hospital before but was never asked to pay anything in advance, -- no, not even when I was dismissed.  They sent me the bill by mail.)  When he saw that the check was drawn on an Illinois bank, I had to explain that I was somewhat new in the west and had not yet transferred my bank account.  The clerk reluctantly took the check, and I was assigned to a room, and politely told that I had to wait for the doctor until he should come around.

   Well, I waited all that day, but not a soul came in! In the evening, as sick as I was, I put on my clothes and went for supper into the dining room.  Then I was told that the doctor was away, but he would see me just as soon as he came back.  For four days this went on, and not a soul came into my room! I could have died and no one would have known it until perhaps days after.  I suppose they had to get the money from the bank and find out if my credit was good before they would give me service! 

   Finally on the fourth day, the Sanitarium chaplain came with apologies for his delay to see me.  "If I had known that you were a Seventh-day Adventist," he explained, "I would have seen you sooner."  I was not expecting him, though, and it did not make much difference with me.  But I said to myself, "If you did not know what I was, you should have come sooner."

   At last the doctor came and after a thorough examination, I was told that I was a very sick man and had to have a special day and night nurse to look after me and to give me the hydrotherapy treatments.  With my consent a student nurse came in.  But when the shadows of evening stretched over the sky, the nurse told me that they were short of special nurses, and so he himself was to wait on me all through the night if I let him move his cot into my room.  All the time I was there, though, he never once got up at night to wait on me.

   And thus I had a private day and night nurse, and in the end I was charged 50 cents an hour -- six dollars daily for him to wait on me during the day time, and six dollars nightly for sleeping with me in the room!  This along with the additional charges was a heavy drain on my already dwindling savings.  And the picture of growing broke and of staying poor grew larger and larger in my own mind, but I recovered from my illness, and was thankful.

   This Sanitarium incident, though, produced another disappointing picture in my mind.  Is that Sanitarium God's place for His sick people?  I asked myself.  Is this people really God's people?  The answer that came to these question was this: the Sanitarium is God's, and the church is God's, but the people that are running them are reactionaries, they are the modern priests, scribes and Pharisees, that there is a need for more Samaritans among them.  This is where God's Truth is, though, and God helping me, I said,  I shall stay with it.  Yes, God did help me, I kept the faith, complained about nothing and stayed in the church with as good record as any.

   After I left the hospital, however, I was weak and my bank account was almost depleted.  It appeared to me, too, that there was nothing that I could get into with the Sabbath off, that I would fall to the mercy of some charity, or else starve.  Moreover, for several months I had sent neither tithes nor my pledges of offerings to the church in the middle west, consequently I owed something like $75.  I thought then that if I should fail to pay this debt now while I had enough to pay it, I could never again get that much money together and it would have to stay unpaid forever.  Better get broke now, I said, and be free of debt than to get broke later and to be a debtor forever.

   My bank account, I figured, was just a little over my debt.  When I wrote a check for the whole balance and sent it to the church in the middle west, I was left with $3.50 in my pocket, and with no prospect of a job.  Then I wrote to the bank in the middle west that I was closing my account and that they should send the cancelled checks and other papers to my address in California.

   At this point of my life, though, the table turned around as much as it turned with Abraham after he had done all but slay his son Isaac on the altar of God.  Just a few days after I had written to the bank I heard from them, and to my great surprise they had inclosed a check for about $350 as my final balance! I never discovered how it happened.

   In the meantime I got a job in a washing machine agency, and just then the Seventh-day Adventists were having their 1923 camp meeting in Los Angeles.  And so I decided to attend and between meetings to try to sell Maytag washers in the neighborhood.  And what do you suppose?  I sold a washer a day and a few vacuum cleaners on the side.  This went on all the while the camp lasted, and my first check from the company was about $425.  But this was not all, just then another surprise overtook me.  Some years before, I had bought stock which I had made up my mind was worthless, but to my surprise I received a letter in which the corporation inquired if I would like to sell it back to them, and the price they offered was more than double the price which I had paid!  Here I had a real experience all of my own as promised in Malachi 3:10.

   Moreover, this Maytag agency was new, and when I went to work for them, they had but a small place.  All the while I worked for them, though, they prospered and grew as did Laban while Jacob worked for him.  In three years' time they opened branch offices all over the vicinity of Los Angeles, and then erected a building of their own which looked like a bank inside and out, one block deep and something like sixty feet wide.  As to how their prosperity ended I will tell you a little later.

   My unexpected success in selling washing machines, of course, was used as a boost pump to the other salesmen, and the sales manager became very inquisitive about my religion.  The last I talked with him he said to me: "Houteff, it must be wonderful to believe as you do, but you know I could never be a Seventh-day Adventist." I then asked why could he not be, and he replied: "Because if I begin to keep the Sabbath as you do, I will lose my job."

   I said, "It is better to lose your job than to lose your life."  And the conversation ended.  But the next time I went into the office I saw a wreath hanging on the door, and everything seemed to be upset.  Then I was told that Mr. Harney, the sales manager, had suddenly taken sick the night before and died early that morning.

   About that time the head bookkeeper, too, became interested in discussing religion with me.  As time went on, I discussed the same I had discussed with Mr. Harney, and at last he, too, said, "Houteff, it must be wonderful to feel as you do, but I could never be a Seventh-day Adventist." I said, "Why?"  "Oh, I could not keep the Sabbath and my job, too," he replied.

   "Well," I said, "it is better to lose your job than to lose your life, Mr. Barber." And surely enough, the next time I went into the office, I found everybody talking instead of working!  Then I was told that Mr. Barber, the head bookkeeper, was found dead that morning in his room!  Believe it or not, but this is what happened with both men after they sold their convictions for the price of a job!

   A little later, I thought that I should have something of my own instead of continuing to work for Mr. Sleuter.  So I was spending most of my time with experiments on health sweets, and as I then sold a washer only now and then, I was not too popular with the company.  And as the company owed me some commissions, I decided to find out why were they held back.  After discussing the matter several times with the sales manager he put me off each time with a promise to "see to it."  But one day I pressed the matter harder, and as a result he said, "Houteff, I am tired with this and I don't care, you can quit."  Next time I went in, I learned that Mr. Lisco, the sales manager, was discharged and that Mr. Foster had taken his post!  Mr. Lisco, you see, was the one who had to quit, not I!

   I then went to see the new manager about my commissions.  He promised to investigate the matter and to let me know the next time I came in.  He, though, did the same thing Mr. Lisco did.  And when I pressed the matter as hard as I did with Mr. Lisco, he, too, said, "Houteff, I am tired with the thing, and do not care if you quit."  Peculiarly enough, though, the next time I went in, I was told that Mr. Foster, the sales manager, was discharged and was no longer with the company!  I still was.  By this time I had created enough business with my health sweets to keep busy and was about to quit altogether.  I then went to see Mr. Sleuter himself about the aforementioned commissions, but he received me very coldly, and plainly told me that I had nothing coming!  I quit.  But in the space of less than about six months, I think it was, he lost the agency and another man took over the company! This is the way his prosperity ended.

   Not long after I had gone to work for this company and while canvassing, I met a woman whose husband was of Jewish descent, but she was Scandinavian, and a Seventh-day Adventist.  She told me that her husband was terribly opposed to her religion and at one time he threw her Bible into the stove.  She wished I could in some way help her husband change his attitude.  I asked her to tell him that I would like to see him in his home the following night.  She promised to try it and then to let me know. 

   He sat down to several studies with me in his home with the family present.  I was surprised, though, to find him very agreeable to what was presented, altogether contrary to what his wife had told me!  After I had given him three studies he called me aside, pulled his pants-pockets inside out and said to me, "You see, I have a big family to feed and only three cents in my pocket.  Before you came to me," he explained, "I did everything to get a job but failed.  In my distress," he continued, "I prayed for the first time in my life.  I asked the Lord to send someone to show me what to do.  When I heard you were coming," he added, "I thought it was in answer to my prayer, and I was anxious to meet you.  And that is why you found me so open-minded to your religion.  But now," he said, "I know that God sent you." 

   I asked him if he would like to sell washing machines, and he replied, "I am ready to do anything you suggest."  I took him to the company I was working for, and he went to work immediately, trucking with his own pickup.  His wages, and a few sales occasionally brought him over $200 monthly.

   He owned the house he was living in, and as living was not so high in those days, he was able to save a good share of his wages.  After a time he sold his house, bought a five-acre plot and built a new house and a good poultry shed on the plot.   Then he told me that he intended to work for the company about 18 months longer, and by that time he would have his house and land all clear, or somewhat clear, and then he could make a good living on his five-acre plot. 

   Well, it all looked fine.  But one Sabbath morning he met me in church and told me that the company was to be taken over that day.  He wanted to know if I would go with him and listen to the speeches while the transfer was being made.  I reasoned with him that it was not the place to spend the Sabbath in, but he argued that if he were not present they might hire another man in his place, and he could not afford to lose his job.  He therefore attended the business meeting.  Shortly after, though, the new company discharged him.  Consequently he could not keep the payments on the property and the trust company foreclosed on it!  Then his wife died!

   Anyone can see that all these sequential events of the day, closely tied one to another with nothing else in between, could not possibly have been accidental, but strictly Providential.

   Now let me relate to you another miracle that took place about that time.  One Wednesday I drove to the business section of Los Angeles.  Having finished my business quite late in the afternoon, and while walking across a street, I saw a woman driving toward me.  But as I was almost to the middle of the street, I saw no danger for there was plenty of room for her to drive by.  She nevertheless turned her car right square into me.  Yes, she struck me from my left, and being overly excited she could not stop her car before she reached the middle of the block.  And so she kept on going from the corner of the street to the middle of the alley.  What happened to me when the car struck me?  Did it lay me flat on the street, and did it run over me?  No, this did not happen because something greater took place: 

   An unseen hand carried me on ahead of the car, lightly sliding my feet on the pavement with my right side ahead, and my left side against the car's radiator! After having made about half the distance before the car stopped, something seated me on the bumper of the car, and I put my left arm around the car's left headlight! Then I said to myself, "Now lady you can keep on going if that is the best you can do."  When she stopped, I put my feet on the ground and stepped away from the car.

   Just then I discovered that the pencil I had in my coat pocket had broken into half a dozen pieces from the impact, but my ribs were untouched!  By that time the car and I were surrounded with people, and three policemen searching for the man that got run over.  But as they found no one lying on the street, or pinned under the car, I told them that it was I who had been run over! They wanted to take me to the hospital, and when I told them that I was not hurt, I heard one say, "He must be hurt but is too excited and does not know his condition."

   Then they made me raise my legs and arms up and down, several times, after which one shouted, "He is made out of rubber!"  The woman was accused of driving at 30 miles per hour.  Then I walked three blocks to my car, and drove to prayer meeting in Exposition Park church, where in our season of testimonies I told them of the accident and the results.  We are still living in the days of miracles, you see.

   After all these and other experiences, then came the message which we are now endeavoring to take to the Laodiceans.  The enemies of the message then left nothing unturned in their search for something against me, rather than to make sure that they were not turning down Truth.  They tried every hook and crook to pin something on me and to stop my activities, but found nothing and as a rule about 30 members of the church stayed in my special meetings each Sabbath afternoon.  Then came the time that the elders of the church refused to let us use the church for our meetings, and they made us all get out.  But one of the sisters who was living in a big house right across from the church offered her place for the meetings, and there was a great uproar among the people around the church premises.  Some were for us and some were against us.  So it was that the house across from the church was filled that afternoon and many listened from the outside through the windows.  The enemies failed to break up our meetings, and the victory was ours.

   Next they forbade us to attend their church services, and they began to disfellowship those who still wanted to attend our meetings.  They tried to deport me, too, but failed.  Then they endeavored to get a court order against any of us going to the church on Sabbath, but lost out.  Once they called the police to have me arrested on false charges that I was disturbing the meetings, but after the officers in the police station heard my story and the deacon's charges against me, he commanded the two policemen who brought us to the station to put us in their car again, and to take us right back to the church where they picked me up! 

   After this the elders endeavored to put me in an insane asylum.  The "city manager" of Glendale himself (a Seventh-day Adventist) had come to this church that Sabbath morning to lay down the charges and to see me carried away and locked in the asylum.  After talking with me for a few minutes, though, the officer did nothing but to tell me that he would not bother me again!  Then the 200 lb. city manager felt smaller than my 135 lb. weight.

   They did all these unbecoming things and many others; besides, they talked and preached against me.  And though I had no one but the Lord to defend me at any time, yet in all these the victory was mine! 

   When we moved our office from California to Texas, where we had neither friend nor believer in the message, the church elders were glad, and thought our work would then die out for sure.  It nevertheless grew more than before, although this took place in the midst of the depression, in 1935, while hundreds and thousands of businesses were going bankrupt, and while well-to-do men were becoming poor.  Yet we who started out with nothing, grew and prospered.  We, moreover, never took collections in any of our meetings anywhere and never made any calls for money.  This holds good still.  Then, too, our free literature that goes out week by week amounts to hundreds and thousands of dollars week after week, and year after year, besides the cost of building the Institution.

And today after going through the nightmare of supposing I might live a life of poverty, as I explained before, my credit is unlimited, and the checks I write amount to thousands of dollars week after week, and year after year, although I am not bonded, own no property, and have no personal bank account! Furthermore, I pay my secretaries as much as I pay myself and some of my workmen I pay twice as much. Yes, there are as great miracles today as there ever were.”  Excerpt from Timely Greetings, Vol. 2, No. 35.