Prisons and Prayer; Or, a Labor of LoveWheaton, Elizabeth Ryder
Religion
Prisons and Prayer; Or, a Labor of Love
Wheaton, Elizabeth Ryder
Evangelistic work; Prisons
I give below a letter received from Brother T., also quote from a
sketch of his life, as published by McAuley Water Street Mission, N.
Y., and sent me by himself; also letters from the Secretary of the
Christian Endeavor Society of the Santa Fe Prison, and very kind
letters from Governor Thornton, Superintendent H. O. Bursom, and
Brother S. H. Hadley, of Water Street Mission.
May 26, 1903.
Dear Mother Wheaton:
I suppose you will be surprised to hear from me. The last time I
saw you was in the Santa Fe Territorial Prison. You had a meeting
in the cell house. I was the trusty who went with you to the
depot. If you remember, you prayed for the removal of the number
from the back of No. 917 and that he would be freed; you also
told me you would pray that I would get out of prison. Your
prayers have been answered. I was pardoned last Christmas, and am
here working among the criminal classes as a missionary. You
remember of my having been converted before your visit to the
prison. It is a great blessing to me to spend the balance of my
life thus, who had been sent to prison for forty years, under
conviction and sentence for a crime of which I was perfectly
innocent, although I was a great sinner in other respects.
Yours in the grand work,
E. U. T.
SENTENCED TO FORTY YEARS IN PRISON.
On the night of July 6, 18----, I was playing the banjo in a
notorious gambling house in Albuquerque, New Mexico. It had been
my business for years and I liked the surroundings; they suited
me exactly; in fact, I have traveled from my home in the East,
from city to city, through all the slumdum of the western cities
playing my banjo; I thoroughly enjoyed it and the company which
it brought me. * * * I was arrested on suspicion and locked in
jail. I had no money, no friends and no character, and I began to
realize for the first time what my life was bringing me. I was
finally brought to trial and convicted on circumstantial
evidence, and sentenced to forty years in prison for a crime that
I knew nothing more about than the judge who sat upon the bench.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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