TPR Wednesday February 15, 1899
Transcribed by Kay Parrish Thompson
Father Porter Gone to His Reward
An humble, unselfish, godly life was gloriously closed last week when Andrew Porter quietly and peacefully entered into his well earned rest. When one looks back over the accomplished facts of a life like his, it furnishes as argument for Christianity more powerful than all the utterances of creed and council, or the fulmination of the pulpit. In 1847 all of northern Michigan was an unbroken wilderness, save for the scattered Catholic mission in the neighborhood of the Straits, and the trading post at Mackinac. Six years before, a Mr. Dougherty representing the presbyterian board had opened a school at Old Mission on Grand Traverse bay and there came Andrew Porter, a stalwart and powerful young man of thirty-one years, as a teacher. In 1851, it was proposed to establish a mission on the south side of Little Traverse bay, and on the recommendation of Mr. Doughtery, Andrew Porter was appointed to the work. He went back to Pennsylvania married the faithful wife who still survives him, and in May 1852 they landed at the mouth of Bear Creek from a little schooner owned by Capt. Kirkland, then a young sailor. The story of their early trails, privations, and labors is too long to repeat here. There is still standing a few feet to the east of Mr. Jarman's house the old school house built of lumber packed up from the shore on the backs of Indians nearly half a century ago, by the hands of Mr. Porter. For the nest quarter of a century Andrew Porter was the central figure in the slowly growing civilization of the Little Traverse county. He was a protestant missionary and teacher, but such was his simplicity of character, his transparent honesty, and unselfish humility, that he won the entire confidence and the affectionate regard of all the Indian people whether catholic or protestant, in faith.
As a civil officer,( for besides being government agent he was justice of the peace, and judge of probate) no Indian was ever wronged by a white man if he knew it, and it was this sense of absolute justice and this belief that it was the province of law to protect the ignorant, which made every Indian his friend. After Petoskey began to be settled by whites in the seventies, Mr. Porter returned to his old home in Pennsylvania for some years, but as old age crept upon him he came back to be near his son, and for several years lived in a cozy little home on Woodland avenue. All the fall he has evidently been failing in strength, and since the holidays the failure has been more rapid. There was no disease, no pain, just the gradual ebbing of the vital forces and at the last the sinking into a gentle sleep. The funeral was held in answer to a general demand from the First Presbyterian church, on Saturday, and although the day was bitterly cold the church was well filled. Rev. John Redpath who organized the first church here made some remarks having reference to his early acquaintance with Mr. Porter, and then the pastor, Rev. James Gale Inglis, delivered an appropriate and eloquent address. Mr. Porter had none of the acidity of age about him. Up to the very last, and when his strength was failing and the end in sight, he was just as full of kindness and charity, as quick in his sympathies, as ready to give of himself to his neighbors as ever he was. Nobody ever questioned his religion. His life spoke for itself and the entire confidence all men, both white and red, rested securely upon that simple, kindly, upright, christlike life, and not on any profession he may have made. Father Porter's name will always be identified with the Little Traverse region, and be spoken with reverence by children yet to be born on the shores of the blue bay he loved so well.
Transcribed by Kay Parrish Thompson
Father Porter Gone to His Reward
An humble, unselfish, godly life was gloriously closed last week when Andrew Porter quietly and peacefully entered into his well earned rest. When one looks back over the accomplished facts of a life like his, it furnishes as argument for Christianity more powerful than all the utterances of creed and council, or the fulmination of the pulpit. In 1847 all of northern Michigan was an unbroken wilderness, save for the scattered Catholic mission in the neighborhood of the Straits, and the trading post at Mackinac. Six years before, a Mr. Dougherty representing the presbyterian board had opened a school at Old Mission on Grand Traverse bay and there came Andrew Porter, a stalwart and powerful young man of thirty-one years, as a teacher. In 1851, it was proposed to establish a mission on the south side of Little Traverse bay, and on the recommendation of Mr. Doughtery, Andrew Porter was appointed to the work. He went back to Pennsylvania married the faithful wife who still survives him, and in May 1852 they landed at the mouth of Bear Creek from a little schooner owned by Capt. Kirkland, then a young sailor. The story of their early trails, privations, and labors is too long to repeat here. There is still standing a few feet to the east of Mr. Jarman's house the old school house built of lumber packed up from the shore on the backs of Indians nearly half a century ago, by the hands of Mr. Porter. For the nest quarter of a century Andrew Porter was the central figure in the slowly growing civilization of the Little Traverse county. He was a protestant missionary and teacher, but such was his simplicity of character, his transparent honesty, and unselfish humility, that he won the entire confidence and the affectionate regard of all the Indian people whether catholic or protestant, in faith.
As a civil officer,( for besides being government agent he was justice of the peace, and judge of probate) no Indian was ever wronged by a white man if he knew it, and it was this sense of absolute justice and this belief that it was the province of law to protect the ignorant, which made every Indian his friend. After Petoskey began to be settled by whites in the seventies, Mr. Porter returned to his old home in Pennsylvania for some years, but as old age crept upon him he came back to be near his son, and for several years lived in a cozy little home on Woodland avenue. All the fall he has evidently been failing in strength, and since the holidays the failure has been more rapid. There was no disease, no pain, just the gradual ebbing of the vital forces and at the last the sinking into a gentle sleep. The funeral was held in answer to a general demand from the First Presbyterian church, on Saturday, and although the day was bitterly cold the church was well filled. Rev. John Redpath who organized the first church here made some remarks having reference to his early acquaintance with Mr. Porter, and then the pastor, Rev. James Gale Inglis, delivered an appropriate and eloquent address. Mr. Porter had none of the acidity of age about him. Up to the very last, and when his strength was failing and the end in sight, he was just as full of kindness and charity, as quick in his sympathies, as ready to give of himself to his neighbors as ever he was. Nobody ever questioned his religion. His life spoke for itself and the entire confidence all men, both white and red, rested securely upon that simple, kindly, upright, christlike life, and not on any profession he may have made. Father Porter's name will always be identified with the Little Traverse region, and be spoken with reverence by children yet to be born on the shores of the blue bay he loved so well.
TPR Wednesday February 15, 1899
Transcribed by Kay Parrish Thompson
Father Porter Gone to His Reward
An humble, unselfish, godly life was gloriously closed last week when Andrew Porter quietly and peacefully entered into his well earned rest. When one looks back over the accomplished facts of a life like his, it furnishes as argument for Christianity more powerful than all the utterances of creed and council, or the fulmination of the pulpit. In 1847 all of northern Michigan was an unbroken wilderness, save for the scattered Catholic mission in the neighborhood of the Straits, and the trading post at Mackinac. Six years before, a Mr. Dougherty representing the presbyterian board had opened a school at Old Mission on Grand Traverse bay and there came Andrew Porter, a stalwart and powerful young man of thirty-one years, as a teacher. In 1851, it was proposed to establish a mission on the south side of Little Traverse bay, and on the recommendation of Mr. Doughtery, Andrew Porter was appointed to the work. He went back to Pennsylvania married the faithful wife who still survives him, and in May 1852 they landed at the mouth of Bear Creek from a little schooner owned by Capt. Kirkland, then a young sailor. The story of their early trails, privations, and labors is too long to repeat here. There is still standing a few feet to the east of Mr. Jarman's house the old school house built of lumber packed up from the shore on the backs of Indians nearly half a century ago, by the hands of Mr. Porter. For the nest quarter of a century Andrew Porter was the central figure in the slowly growing civilization of the Little Traverse county. He was a protestant missionary and teacher, but such was his simplicity of character, his transparent honesty, and unselfish humility, that he won the entire confidence and the affectionate regard of all the Indian people whether catholic or protestant, in faith.
As a civil officer,( for besides being government agent he was justice of the peace, and judge of probate) no Indian was ever wronged by a white man if he knew it, and it was this sense of absolute justice and this belief that it was the province of law to protect the ignorant, which made every Indian his friend. After Petoskey began to be settled by whites in the seventies, Mr. Porter returned to his old home in Pennsylvania for some years, but as old age crept upon him he came back to be near his son, and for several years lived in a cozy little home on Woodland avenue. All the fall he has evidently been failing in strength, and since the holidays the failure has been more rapid. There was no disease, no pain, just the gradual ebbing of the vital forces and at the last the sinking into a gentle sleep. The funeral was held in answer to a general demand from the First Presbyterian church, on Saturday, and although the day was bitterly cold the church was well filled. Rev. John Redpath who organized the first church here made some remarks having reference to his early acquaintance with Mr. Porter, and then the pastor, Rev. James Gale Inglis, delivered an appropriate and eloquent address. Mr. Porter had none of the acidity of age about him. Up to the very last, and when his strength was failing and the end in sight, he was just as full of kindness and charity, as quick in his sympathies, as ready to give of himself to his neighbors as ever he was. Nobody ever questioned his religion. His life spoke for itself and the entire confidence all men, both white and red, rested securely upon that simple, kindly, upright, christlike life, and not on any profession he may have made. Father Porter's name will always be identified with the Little Traverse region, and be spoken with reverence by children yet to be born on the shores of the blue bay he loved so well.
Transcribed by Kay Parrish Thompson
Father Porter Gone to His Reward
An humble, unselfish, godly life was gloriously closed last week when Andrew Porter quietly and peacefully entered into his well earned rest. When one looks back over the accomplished facts of a life like his, it furnishes as argument for Christianity more powerful than all the utterances of creed and council, or the fulmination of the pulpit. In 1847 all of northern Michigan was an unbroken wilderness, save for the scattered Catholic mission in the neighborhood of the Straits, and the trading post at Mackinac. Six years before, a Mr. Dougherty representing the presbyterian board had opened a school at Old Mission on Grand Traverse bay and there came Andrew Porter, a stalwart and powerful young man of thirty-one years, as a teacher. In 1851, it was proposed to establish a mission on the south side of Little Traverse bay, and on the recommendation of Mr. Doughtery, Andrew Porter was appointed to the work. He went back to Pennsylvania married the faithful wife who still survives him, and in May 1852 they landed at the mouth of Bear Creek from a little schooner owned by Capt. Kirkland, then a young sailor. The story of their early trails, privations, and labors is too long to repeat here. There is still standing a few feet to the east of Mr. Jarman's house the old school house built of lumber packed up from the shore on the backs of Indians nearly half a century ago, by the hands of Mr. Porter. For the nest quarter of a century Andrew Porter was the central figure in the slowly growing civilization of the Little Traverse county. He was a protestant missionary and teacher, but such was his simplicity of character, his transparent honesty, and unselfish humility, that he won the entire confidence and the affectionate regard of all the Indian people whether catholic or protestant, in faith.
As a civil officer,( for besides being government agent he was justice of the peace, and judge of probate) no Indian was ever wronged by a white man if he knew it, and it was this sense of absolute justice and this belief that it was the province of law to protect the ignorant, which made every Indian his friend. After Petoskey began to be settled by whites in the seventies, Mr. Porter returned to his old home in Pennsylvania for some years, but as old age crept upon him he came back to be near his son, and for several years lived in a cozy little home on Woodland avenue. All the fall he has evidently been failing in strength, and since the holidays the failure has been more rapid. There was no disease, no pain, just the gradual ebbing of the vital forces and at the last the sinking into a gentle sleep. The funeral was held in answer to a general demand from the First Presbyterian church, on Saturday, and although the day was bitterly cold the church was well filled. Rev. John Redpath who organized the first church here made some remarks having reference to his early acquaintance with Mr. Porter, and then the pastor, Rev. James Gale Inglis, delivered an appropriate and eloquent address. Mr. Porter had none of the acidity of age about him. Up to the very last, and when his strength was failing and the end in sight, he was just as full of kindness and charity, as quick in his sympathies, as ready to give of himself to his neighbors as ever he was. Nobody ever questioned his religion. His life spoke for itself and the entire confidence all men, both white and red, rested securely upon that simple, kindly, upright, christlike life, and not on any profession he may have made. Father Porter's name will always be identified with the Little Traverse region, and be spoken with reverence by children yet to be born on the shores of the blue bay he loved so well.
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