George Washington Ivey
lie was unassuming, unsophisticated, old-
fashioned Methodist circuit rider, but his
life's work entitles him to be ranked as a
truly great citizen of the state.
THE old Methodist itinerants
cared naught for worldly hon¬
ors, or for fame, and it's just
as well that this is so, for in most
cases their days were passed in
obscurity, and when they passed
on, they were soon forgotten by
all but their closest friends.
A few there were, however, who
were so pre-eminently gifted that
during their lives they became at
least locally famous, and are re¬
membered to this day in the terri¬
tory in which they worked.
To this latter category belongs
George Washington Ivey. “Uncle
Ivey," as his friends fondly called
him, ended his labors over forty
years ago, yet to this day his mem¬
ory is green throughout the west¬
ern part of the state, particularly
among members of his own faith.
In all probability his name today
strikes a responsive chord of mem¬
ory among more North Carolina
Methodists than that of any bishop
or other high church dignitary of
his day, and yet throughout his
ministry of fifty-two years, he
remained a plain country itinerant
preacher.
Not Interested in Promotion
His failure to win “promotion,"
as it is generally considered, was
not due to any lack of recognition
of his merit by his church. Upon
one occasion it was proposed that
the degree of Doctor of Divinity
be conferred upon him. The pro¬
posal caused Mr. Ivey considerable
perturbation, and he would not
rest until the matter was dropped.
“It might spoil me," he protested.
“It would certainly cause more to
be expected from me — more, per¬
haps, than I could deliver.”
In the same spirit he declined
to accept a station when one was
offered him, although he was get¬
ting well along in years, and the
constant travel involved in circuit
work was a tax on his waning
strength. “I might not succeed in
that class of work. Just let me
finish my work on the circuit where
I began," he told his presiding
elder.
In 1900 he missed one appoint¬
ment. the first in 34 years. Just stop
6
Rif EDGAR ABERNETHY
and think for moment. Consider
the kind of roads he travelled
during those years, the extremes
of weather he must have encoun¬
tered, and the fact that most his
appointments were miles away
from his home. Only a man of
magnificent constitution, iron will,
and complete devotion to duty
could have performed this Hercu¬
lean task.
Didn't Mind Empty Pews
Sometimes he reached a church
at the appointed hour only to find
no one present. In such cases it
was his custom to preach just the
same. When questioned as to his
purpose in preaching to empty
pews, he simply replied, “It is my
business to preach and the Lord’s
business to furnish the congrega¬
tion."
On one such occasion, one man,
who heard the preaching as he
was passing by, came in and re¬
mained for the rest of the service.
"The congregation was not large,
but it was very orderly and at¬
tentive, and on the whole we had
a pretty good service,” he said.
Does it appear that Mr. Ivey
was a bit eccentric? If single-
minded devotion to the work which
he was called, without regard to his
own personal welfare and con¬
venience constitutes eccentricity,
then he was eccentric.
As a matter of fact, aside from
his humor it was probably his
common sense which made the
strongest appeal to his people.
Members of his congregations con¬
stantly asked his advice, not only
about spiritual matters, but in
regard to the practical everyday
things of life. A case in point is
Sister Sheets' cow.
This good sister’s cow was off in
her milk, whether from “hollow-
horn" or “hollow-tail” or some
other mysterious malady she knew
not. None of the traditional rem¬
edies seemed to do any good, so in
desperation she sent for the
preacher. Some say she asked
him to come and pray that the
good Lord, who has a special con¬
cern for widows, might heal the
cow, but that is not known posi¬
tively.
Anyway, the preacher came, and
she took him to the barn, where
the cow, a bony, emaciated crea¬
ture, stood dispiritedly switching
at flies. Mr. Ivey regarded the
beast carefully, made his diag¬
nosis, and gave the following pre¬
scription :
"Well, Sister Sheets," he said.
"I think she needs a little meal."
Too Much Milk
His knowledge of human nature
(as well as of cows) is exemplified
in the following incident. On a
certain occasion a farmer attempted
to sell him a cow. Mr. Ivey ad¬
mitted he needed one.
“Then here's jist the cow you
want, preacher,” exclaimed the
farmer. “She looks bad now,
'cause she ain’t had no 'tention.
She ain’t been milked regular, and
she ain’t had much feed 'cep’n
whut she picked up in the paster.
She’s 'way down in her milk; only
gives two gallon and a half now,
but if you take her and feed her
good she’ll give four easy.”
Mr. Ivey gazed at the animal
reflectively. It was one of the
sorriest, runtiest, scrawniest, little
cows ever to come out of the
woods. He shook his head sadly.
“No," he said, "she won't suit us.
We can’t use more than a gallon
and a half a day at our house."
On another occasion a widower
of his acquaintance desired to
marry a certain woman, but felt
that he didn’t know her quite as
well as he should. Mr. Ivey had
been the pastor of both parties,
so he went to him for advice.
"Do you know so-and-so?" he
queried.
“I certainly do," replied the
preacher.
"What kind of a woman is she?"
continued the anxious suitor.
“She had one of the best mothers
I ever knew," was the response.
The wedding did not take place.
Mr. Ivey’s greatest gift was per¬
haps his sense of humor. It was
not a one-way affair; he could