Martha Whitmore Hickman

A Shared Bit of History

In the summer of 1951 my husband and I spent two weeks at Koinonia. We were recently married, Hoyt was at Yale Divinity School; I had worked for the American Baptists (then Northern Baptists) and had heard Clarence speak at conferences, etc. We wanted to “come and see”

I worked in the kitchen (and the egg house), Hoyt in the peanut fields. It was a rich time for us, being part of the community, seeing some of the struggles that went with deciding on that kind of commitment. Another young couple who shared our house was trying out the farm to see whether this was their calling. (Our own expectation was to make the visit, not to request to stay, and we really weren't tempted to do that, though I remember talking about it together late into one night.)

A memory that stands out --I remember it with some chagrin --such a grandiose statement --but also as a kind of nice freedom. One morning in the chicken house someone asked the several of us who were there boxing eggs, what was our greatest ambition. Without

the usual monitoring of reserve I said, "To be a saint." No one laughed. Even now, having no delusions about such an achievement (though the spiritual journey continues to be very important), I smile remembering the occasion. In how many chicken houses would such an exchange seem quite within the order of the day? That was Koinonia.

While I was there I made a dress from some feed sacks. (Pg. 35) It was a green and white print, very pretty, and I enjoyed wearing it--and telling people where it came from!

Another memory --not so great. Sitting in a windowed screenless cabin for Sunday worship --and the constant motion of hands and arms, batting away flies.

And another. A wandering radical, Corbett Bishop, came to visit. A highly educated man, he appeared to spend his life in as little compliance with a corrupt society as possible. He told of various encounters with police he'd had in the course of his protests. He described his being hauled away as "They took the body..." distinguishing that from his spirit, which was beyond capture. He thought Koinonia was compromising too much in its degree of participation in society. It reminded us that the continuum of witnessing tor truth and justice is very long: what seems radical to one group may seem a modest stance to another.

We felt privileged to be there, and surely to be there when the Jordans were alive, active, parents of young children. We attended Clarence's informal Bible study. At one point he said with such feeling, "Your vow to Christ is stronger than your marriage vow." Newly married, I hoped I would never be faced with such a choice --and if I were, what would I do? And what did that mean --or had it meant --to the people who made up this community?

Over the years our lives have led us into many paths--as parents of children (now grown), Hoyt as a United Methodist minister presently serving on one of the denominational boards, I as homemaker and writer. Throughout this time we've watched with gratitude the struggles and achievements of Koinonia --its blessing and witness in the world. And have been grateful for that bit of our own history when young, starting out, we drove into that dusty yard, to share, for a little while your life.

Martha Hickman in her dress make from feed sack. (photo by Martha Hickman)

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