346 “And rich Uncle Hark sought the Light openly and honestly. Years after, in our father’s belongings, I ran across a postcard from Uncle Hark.

“Attended Billy Sunday’s meeting,” it read, “and he got me. Brother Hark.” And Papa had written, in his bold, strong hand, “Thank God!”

“We loved and adored this uncle, not because his pockets were always ready to empty stray pennies and nickels or because he could play Yankee Doodle on his cheeks, but for some unexpressed, honest quality that made him distinctively ours. When the old Gibson Iron Works, which he had founded, was torn down not so long ago, another piece of him went from us.”