The following story reflects my memories of my father’s time as a minister in the United Methodist Church. I have tried to be as accurate as possible, but many of the details are from memories of stories told at the family dinner table over decades…and we all know how family stories can occasionally divert from the absolute truth. ☺

Note: As of May 18th 2024, the slideshows below are not working correctly–the photos appear as one photo next to the next one. I hope to have this fixed soon.

Timeline:

• April 4^th, 1968, Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. My dad was a letter carrier for the US Post Office.
• Summer 1968, before third grade for me, we lived in Winnett, Montana where Dad lead two Methodist Churches.
• Summer 1969-1970, fourth grade for me, we lived in Kansas City, Missouri and Dad attended Saint Paul’s Methodist Seminary (part year) and was minister at Saint Andrew’s Methodist Church.

1968, summer: Winnett, MT

My dad had a friend who ministered at three Methodist churches in the plains of Montana (I’m not sure how he and my dad knew each other). After the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., my dad spoke with this minister friend about feeling he needed to do something. The minister suggested that he come up for the summer and be the minister at two of his churches, in Winnett (population about 200^[1]) and Grass Range (population about 100). Apparently, the minister served three churches and kept his other one in Roundup (population about 2,000). Winnett and Grass Range are about 25 miles apart, and each is about 40 miles from Roundup.

We owned our house at 1240 Grove St, so my parents kept it, and we moved up to Winnett for the summer. The town of Winnett was the county seat of Petroleum County; the entire county has a current population of around 500 (“…making it the least populous county in Montana and the seventh-least populous in the United States.”). My mom used to talk about how they created the county when oil was discovered in the area, and the growing town paved the sidewalks…but then the oil boom ‘went bust’ and with no money coming in the streets were never paved (except the main highway through town and the main street)^[2]. The town did have a school which I image supported families who live in the neighboring countryside in addition to the town.

On Sundays, my dad would lead a service in the Winnett church, then we’d pack the family in the Ford station wagon and drive the 25 miles to Grass Range for a second service. Driving back and forth we would often see dead skunks on the road, and that’s where I developed my fondness for skunks (I remember always enjoying seeing the few de-scented skunks in cages at Lake Merritt in Oakland as a kid).

Life in a small town

We lived in a house near the church. I remember that we would burn our garbage in the back yard every so often; I don’t remember there being any trash pickup service (but it may have existed). The church consisted of two buildings: A small chapel and a huge ‘basement’ next door. The church had planned on building a new chapel above the basement but ran out of funds. We would attend weekly(?) game nights in the basement, and there was a stage at one end where my mom said I used to play some game (can’t remember, maybe chess) with a few old men.

A small town on the highway between Winnett and Grass Range, called Teigen had a sigtn that said something like “Population 10.” It had a gas station if memory serves me right. From satellite photos, it looks like the buildings in the town were torn down at some point, as nothing is visible now.

From Tiegen, one could take the “Double S Cutoff” to “The Old Winnett Road” through the hills just south of the highway. This was a dirt road over hills through a thin forest, and we took it a few times on our way back from Grass Range. I remember once seeing a collection of shepherds tending their flock. I think they lived in some sort of wagons that reminded me of ‘covered wagons’ of ‘pioneer days.’

Later, as an adult, I took this road with my fiancé, and we almost got stuck in the mud. I remember the front-wheel drive car had “Traction control” that would cut power to a spinning wheel, and that helped us get out. I had to back down the road a bit on the grass side of the road and go ‘back and forth’ a few times until we finally got to a place where we could get enough grip to back down the road out of the mud. I guess when I was a kid we never tried it when it was muddy.

Winnett also has a small swimming pool. My mom volunteered to be a lifeguard at the pool. I’m not sure if it would have been open otherwise, but it certainly was a ‘minister’s wife’ duty, as well as using her PE teacher and lifeguard skills. I do remember the pool being popular with kids. I also remember a roller-skating rink among the few businesses open in town. I never learned to skate well, but we did go there a few times. It was a popular social destination for the small town.

Since it was summer, I think my siblings and I only met a few kids from town. I remember one day all the kids in town had a water balloon and egg fight, running around hiding from each other and tossing balloons and eggs. I don’t remember being involved much; I think Calvin may have been a bit more engaged.

My other main memory of the summer was fishing in the creek that crossed the south and east side of town. You could get to the creek from either side, and I don’t think the fishing was that great. This might have been where we brought home bullhead fish for Mom to cook. I remember a story that there was a big catfish that lived under the bridge to the south of town that everyone always wanted to catch. Another memory was of running to catch up with my brother and almost stepping on a snake; it felt like I had to thrust/extend my leg forward to keep from landing on the snake.

1969-1970: Kansas City, MO

After our summer experience, my dad decided he did want to be a minister. He applied to Saint Paul School of Theology^[3] in Kansas City, MO and was accepted for the fall 1969 semester.

When we moved to KC, mom and dad thought this was the start of a long career as a member of the clergy, so we sold our Berkeley home and drove out to KC. Somehow, without being ordained, dad was assigned as minister at Saint Andrew’s United Methodist Church, located in an inner city portion of Kansas City. We were one of two white families at the church. My mom told us later that the other white family was one who believed in integration and didn’t expect the Black folks to have to come to their white church, so they joined a Black church.

The parsonage for the church was in a ‘nicer’ Black neighborhood. We lived in a three-bedroom, one bath, 1,000 sq ft house (not sure how we worked that out, but my folks were good at squeezing their three kids into small houses). Our neighborhood school, Messervy^[4], was predominantly Black. The family story was that my brother, in 6^th grade, earned respect because he could hit a ball over the fence and my sister got respect because, as a 1^st grader, she had a 6^th grade brother who could hit a ball over the fence! Apparently I ‘tested out’ of the neighborhood school, and carpooled across town to D. M. Pinkerton Elementary^[5] because I was ‘too smart’ for Messervy. The story I remember is that the only difference in assigned curriculum was my math book, but I suspect there were significant differences in expectations of the students.

Life in our neighborhood, on what felt like the outskirts of town to a fourth grader, was full of adventures. We had a creek across the main street that ran through a ‘wilderness’ area that allowed for all sorts of exploring. There was a single-track train trestle that I don’t think I ever made it across, but my brother did a few times. Like many things from our childhood experiences, when I returned to visit the area, it was much less wilderness—and much smaller—than I remembered!

On Halloween, we went trick-or-treating, and I remember my brother getting stung by a BB that hit his leg. We discovered more BBs in our goodie bags when we got home. Kansas City also was our first exposure to snow. The hills in the area were not big, but neighborhood kids had sleds and we were able to experience sledding for the first time during that winter.

Back to my dad: Dad dropped out of seminary sometime before the end of the first quarter. The story told in the family over the years was that the seminary expected students to go on home visitations with experienced ministers to their ‘flock.’ But my dad had his own ‘flock’ at Saint Andrew’s, and didn’t think it was fair for him to have to attend to both his own flock and to visit ‘master ministers’ flocks, prepare for his own services, plus all of his schoolwork for his seminary classes. My dad ‘put his foot down,’ insisting that he would not visit other flocks, and there was a parting of ways.

As a side note, I ended up following a similar path into teaching—having a paid teaching job while working in a teaching credential program. But by the 1990s California universities had learned to not require their credential programs students who were teaching their own classes (without a ‘master teacher’) to complete all the tasks required of traditional student teachers.

Life after seminary

But, even with his departure from the seminary, the United Methodist Church has assigned my dad to Saint Andrew’s for the academic year and he completed his year at Saint Andrew’s.

One of my dad’s stories of his time at Saint Andrew’s was of a woman in the church who was having difficulties in her life, and she came to see her minister. The two of them ‘put their hearts on the rail’ to pray about it. He later shared that this as one of the times he was able to connect with someone who needed his help. If my memory is right, they got back in touch a few decades later. The woman was Rose Nolen, who later became a renowned journalist. My dad also kept in touch with a few other members of the congregation after we returned to Berkeley.

I’ve driven across the country several times, and when in the Kansas City area I stop by to see the old house, neighborhood, and church. My last time across, summer 2023, I stopped by the church and spoke with the current minister and his wife. They remembered the Trampleasure name from church history documents and were pleased that I stopped by to visit.

1970, summer: Back to Berkeley

Photos from our drive home

When the year ended in June, we packed up the house and headed back to Berkeley, and my dad was rehired at the Post Office. To get back to Berkeley, we drove ‘the long way’ via the east coast to visit my mom’s family in the Maryland area and visit Washington, D.C.

Back in Berkeley, while looking for a home, we spent the summer (1) housesitting (our Berkeley Methodist Church organist’s house) and (2) couch surfing (not sure how we fit six kids and four adults in the French’s house, but, as my dad would say, “God bless ’em”). Finally, we heard through the grapevine that one of our old neighbors on Grove Street was moving. My folks contacted the landlord, and we started renting from them. Wow, moving from 1240 to 1238 Grove St in one year and 4,000 miles.

Bill’s later life and ministry

Years later my dad because a Universal Life Church minister and served as officiant for many couples’ weddings. He used to talk about a few couples being ‘his most successful marriages’—they were the ones that lasted a long time.

Sometime in the 1980s, my dad decided that he needed to change churches, and he joined the First Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley. My mom told me later that church was for her not so much about a particular doctrine, but rather a place of community and spirituality. She joined my dad at FUUCB, and they remained active members for the rest of their lives.

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Footnotes

1. Population data is from Wikipedia 2010 census data, but I think the town sizes were similar in 1968. ↑

2. In February 1920, oil was discovered in the SE part of the county. This area developed into the Cat Creek Oil Field, producing high-grade crude. By 1922 it was producing 2.2 million barrels annually. In 1925, the state legislature split the eastern area of Fergus County into a separate entity, named Petroleum County, to denote its status as the first place in Montana where petroleum was discovered, and designated Winnett as its seat.^[9][4] [source] ↑

3. Moved to Church of Resurrection campus in Leawood, Kansas, 2013. ↑

4. Messervy school was closed in 2009. ↑

5. Pinkerton was closed by the district in 2010, and later sold to Hogan Preparatory Academy, who now operates an elementary school out of the building. ↑

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