Willow Leaves October 18

In memoriam: Rev. Nigel A. Everett Reverend Nigel A. Everett finished her term of service on earth and was called home last Monday, October 11, 1999, at the ate of 81 years, 8 months, and 18 days. She was surrounded by her family who were singing “It Is Well With My Soul” and “He Lives!” when she rendered up her spirit. Born January 23, 1918 in Chicago, IL, to Elbert and Alice (Hart) Boyden, Rev. Everett led a life of service to others: first to her family, and then to the church. She became secretary of the Willow Creek Methodist Church in Mishawaka, IN in 1956 and began her studies for the ministry there. In 1961 she was licensed as the first woman minister in the North Indiana Conference of the Methodist Church and began her first assignment at Etna Green and Summit chapel Methodist Churches in 1964. She served as associate minister at Elkhart Simpson United Methodist Church in 1968-69; pastor of Wolf Lake and Kimmel United Methodist Churches in 1969-71; and as pastor of Ossian and Prospect United Methodist Churches in 1971-77. It was at Ossian that Rev. Everett’s husband of 41 years, Wayne E. Everett, lost his battle with cancer and was buried at Prospect Cemetery. From 1977-81 she served the Butler Zion United Methodist Church and then moved to Monon United Methodist Church where she served until her retirement in 1986. Retirement, however, was only the beginning of service as chaplain of the United Methodist Memorial Home in Warren, IN, from which she retired in 1997. After this retirement, she served both as interim pastor of Warren and Plum Tree United Churches of Christ, and later as interim pastor for Poneto United Methodist Church. After successfully surviving kidney cancer with the removal of a kidney in 1997, it was cancer that finally caught her again in the spring of 1999. Rev. Everett moved into the United Methodist Memorial Home in September to continue chemo-therapy, but her health deteriorated rapidly in the last few weeks and she succumbed to the disease at last. Rev. Everett was preceded in death by her parents and her stepfather, Rev. Arnold N. Lambert; by her husband Wayne; by her brother, Clair Boyden; by one grandson and one great-granddaughter. She is survived by her brother, Nathan Lambert; by her daughters, Mrs. DeOrsay (Lael) Russell, Rev. Mrs. R. Kenneth (Judy) Stevenson, Mrs. James (Sharon) Springer, Kim Hart, and Kimberlee Everett; by her son, Nathan (wife Michele) Everett; by 15 grandchildren, 29 great grandchildren, and 4 great-great grandchildren; and by her special friend Jay Dee Walters, who was like a son to her in his love and caring for her. Services were held on Thursday, October 14th at the Applegate Chapel of the United Methodist Memorial Home in Warren, followed by internment at Prospect Cemetery in Wells County. Rev. Clyde Trumbauer (ret.) of Elkhart and Rev. Cynthia Reynolds, Huntington District Superintendent of the United Methodist Church officiated. Over 30 members of the Walk to Emmaus fellowship sang “On Eagle’s Wings,” and some 50 ordained elders in the church sang the Bishop’s Hymn as a farewell. Rev. Everett left her library of 30 years of sermons to the church. Until further notice, volunteers from the congregation will stand in the pulpit on Sunday mornings and read one of the sermons. Annual Conference is still seven months away and they are not letting Rev. Everett out of her commitment simply because she is no longer among the living.

From Scratch

Rev. Ev. was a great storyteller. Her children and grandchildren loved to hear her tell stories. The children who gathered on the steps of the chancel on Sunday mornings loved to hear her tell stories. And adults sat caught up in the verbal pictures she painted as she told story after story. She would lace her stories with so much verifiable personal detail that no matter how implausible the story might be, you couldn’t help but think it might just have happened to her that way. This is a story I heard directly from her. You can decide for yourself if it is true, or just a forerunner to what we now call “urban legend.”

Wayne and Nigel were married in the late 1930s. Nigel was only seventeen and didn’t have much experience of the world. And although she was a smart student one thing she hadn’t learned was how to cook. She was much relieved that Wayne, for all his back of book learning, was a fine cook with an opportunity to go to Chicago to work at a restaurant his brother knew about. At least for the time-being, it appeared that Nigel was going to avoid cooking.

She was curious though. When Wayne came home laughing about a customer who came in and ordered a rare steak, then complained that it wasn’t cooked and she wanted it rare, not raw, Nigel didn’t get the joke. Couldn’t he make it rare and still cook it through? But the thing she puzzled most about was hearing what Wayne made from scratch. He made cakes, cookies, and pies all from scratch. He made a soufflé and even chop suey from scratch. It wouldn’t have surprised Nigel if Wayne had made that rare steak from scratch. Nigel desperately wanted to learn how to use that magical ingredient. But she didn’t want to let Wayne know that she didn’t know how to cook.

So she went down to her local grocery store on State Street and asked the grocer for a bag of scratch. The Hungarian grocer puzzled for a minute and then nodded. He didn’t have any at the grocery store but his brother carried it at his store at the other end of The Loop. He gave Nigel a note written in Hungarian because his brother didn’t speak English too well. He told her where the store was and off she went.

The brother took a look at the note and pointed out a 10-pound and a 25-pound bag. Nigel wisely chose the smaller so she could carry it the 22 blocks home to their apartment.

Now was the tricky part. When Wayne got home Nigel asked him simply if he would bake her a cake from scratch. She wanted to see a master at work. Wayne was flattered and went straight to work. He got out flour, eggs, sugar, and milk. He mixed them, poured the batter in a pan and put it in the oven. Not once had he reached for a bay of scratch. A sudden dawning broke over Nigel. As they sat to eat a slice of the cake right out of the oven, Wayne asked, “Well, what do your think?” Nigel thought, then seriously responded, “I think maybe we should raise some chickens.”

Well you may doubt the story I and I don’t blame you. I doubt it myself, but I know for a fact that right up to the end, Nigel struggled with anything that involved cooking and it just wouldn’t surprise me to find out the whole story was told just the way it happened.