How the Gospel Lighthouse Church & Lighthouse Academy in Floyd, Iowa, Began

by Ken Holtz

A hot June sun baked the patched canvas roof of a rickety old wagon, as the Herman family followed a pocked trail across a prairie full of mystery. Tired horses kicked up clouds of dust that constantly hovered over the caravan. Like a plague, the black dust attached itself to anything it came in contact with. There was seemingly nowhere it wouldn't go. Stained clothing, dirty faces, stinging eyes, and a bitter abrasive film in the mouth became just another on of the travel discomforts the Herman's had learned to tolerate. The incessant squeaking of rusty wheels, groaning wagon joints, the clip-clop of horse hooves, and whistling wind made conversation laborious and after awhile, exhausting. Their older children walked behind the wagon, while the younger ones rode inside. Hunger was an unwelcome but constant companion. For families like George Herman's, three square meals a day were but a dream, and many of the luxuries we take for granted today were not even invented yet. Conditions were harsh to say the least. 1894 is nearly a universe away from the world we know today.

To further complicate their journey, George's wife, Nettie, was with child. Time and fate found her at the very end of her third trimester as she was being jostled along the trail, when the pain and contractions became too much to bear. George pulled the team to a stop and made preparations for childbirth. This dirty dust-covered prairie schooner would serve as the delivery and recovery room for mother and child. There would be no doctor or nurse to deliver this child, no medication to ease the pain of childbirth and no help if something went wrong. George and Nettie would have to manage on their own. I wonder how they would have felt if they knew this scrawny baby, they were about to deliver in the back of the wagon would grow up to be a true voice in the wilderness, a leader of men, a bearer of the lamp that shines light in the hearts of men, and an oracle of the Almighty. I suppose those thoughts never crossed their minds. How could they? Life for this family was about survival. They were extremely poor without a lot of hope of improving their position in life, extinction was just a breath away.

And so it was that my great-grandmother, Ada Stillion, was born about 110 years ago along a dirt road in a covered-wagon, somewhere in the State of Illinois. To put that into some sort of perspective consider this: she was born less than twenty years after Custer fell in the Battle of Little Big Horn and only several years after the Wounded Knee Masacre. Can you imagine listening to your relatives talk about families, who lost loved ones in those battles, and in the same lifetime watch Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon! Talk about a giant leap for mankind.

It should come as no surprise that the early years for Ada Stillion were very difficult and dreadfully painful. By any standards she was uneducated, though she did learn to read and write. Women in general played a different role in society back then compared to what we deem as normal by today's standards. As an example, for the first 26 years of her life, Ada Stillion would not have been allowed to vote in a presidential election, even if she would have wanted to simply because it was illegal for women to vote at that time. When I think of the repression that women in general experienced in those days, and some of her less than desirable experiences she went through growing up, I am somewhat surprised that Grandma Stillion developed into the outspoken person that we would come to know. I have a feeling it had a lot to do with survival.

The ingredients of Ada's early life were a recipe for sorrow and failure. Some of her experiences were well known and mentioned many times in her sermons. One particular was a dark secret, not talked about or discussed until the last days of her life, and even then with only a chosen few.

Though it is unclear if she witnessed her teenage brother drown, there is a good possibility that she was on the shoreline that day when an afternoon swim to find relief from the heat turned tragic and her brother perished despite a risky rescue attempt. I can only imagine the trauma and grief such a tragedy would cause and the void that loss would create in her heart. As if that weren't cataclysmic enough, she became prey for an unspeakable horror. As a child she was the victim of an incestuous rape. That horrific crime was compounded by the baby's murder at birth by the disposal of the infant's body in an attempt to cover up the evil offense. There are no words to describe such an incident. The impact and the mark that would leave upon the human soul would almost be irreparable. How does one recover from such a wrong? What kind of person does one grow up to be when they are treated worse than livestock? Her future didn't look very bright.

At sixteen Ada married thirty-year-old, Edward Stillion. Though such a marriage would not even be considered now days, they would stay married for more than fifty years. Three children would be born to this union; Hazel Leora, Nettie Marie and Katherine. Katherine died from pneumonia at the age of three. We know how Hazel and Nettie turned out, both an inspiration in their own right, but they weren't always traveling on that righteous path.

When Ada was about twenty-six, Edward had a heat stroke and was unable to hold down a full-time job. Someone once said that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Here is a classic case. In order to help support her family, Ada was determined to find work. With almost no formal education, she didn't have the qualifications, nor did she have the opportunity to be picky concerning her job selection. Ada ended up taking a job as a bartender at a bar and grill in LaCrosse, Wisconsin to help pay the bills. While at work she started drinking with the customers in an effort to "help business." What started out as social drinking turned into a full blown case of alcoholism. For nearly two decades. By her own admission she was hopelessly addicted to alcohol and lived a lifestyle that would make most people blush with shame. I don't know every detail concerning her life during this period of time, but I do recall her telling her congregation on more than one occasion, that the only sin she didn't participate in was drug use. Overwhelmed by dire circumstances and shattered dreams most people would have sunk to the bottom of the cesspool and drown. But Grandma never was one of "most people." Around the 1930s the Stillion family moved to an area in the town of Charles City, Iowa, known as Oak Park. Oak Park was referred to some as the "slums" of Charles City. To put it bluntly, it was where the poorest of the poor lived. Even at the time when I was growing up, I knew a man who spent a brutal winter living in a cardboard box in a swamp there.

In April of 1938, Ada and twenty-three-year-old Nettie decided to go visit some relatives in Illinois. Indeed they would temporarily leave their small homes and head for, of all places, the big city of Metropolis! Yes, it was going to be a "super" trip. One of their main motivations for their travels was the fact that they were going to bring back some of that fine "Kentucky White Lightening" that the family was so fond of. Hazel had married John Meyer the previous year so due to her duties and responsibilities she was unable to make the sojourn with them. What they didn't know, and could never have guessed was what God had in store for them. There would be no "White Lightening" for Ada. All her drinking encounters would soon be from the "Well of Living Water"! The Ada Stillion that left Oak Park that day was not the same Ada Stillion that was to return.

Salvation is a wonderful gift, albeit somewhat mysterious in a sense. It cannot be grasped with the intellect. The powers of reason cannot convince someone to make a decision for Christ with any type of lasting conviction. The heart must be prepared by the Holy Spirit to receive Salvation or like seed sown upon a rock, it cannot flourish. At the age of forty-four, the Holy Spirit was cultivating the heart of Ada Stillion. God spoke to her in possibly the only way that she could understand at that time, in her words, a "warning dream". For perhaps the first time in Ada's life, God had her attention.

As it turns out gospel meetings were being held in the evenings in Metropolis and Ada agreed to attend one. Her strategy was to sit in the back row, where she and Nettie could make fun of all the "Holy Rollers". God can often times do a lot with a little. What seemed like an informal visit to a church turned out to be a life-changing experience for Ada Stillion. She felt convicted by the preacher's words, the Holy Spirit had successfully farrowed the fertile soil of her soul and when an altar call was given, she answered. When the preacher asked her to pray, this crude woman replied the only way she knew how, with candid honesty, "Listen man, I have never prayed in my life. How do you expect me to pray now?" But pray she did. She didn't leave that altar for nearly two hours.

We don't know all of her dealings with God that fateful night, but we do know of a couple of her requests. In her own words, her first request was, "Make me worthy to be called Mother." How powerful is that? Even though her children were grown, she still felt the significance, responsibility and the magnitude of parenthood. That little baby girl born in a horse-drawn wagon along a forgotten two-track road, in some remote pasture in Illinois, never forgot what it was like to be an abused child. Like any loving mother, she wanted better for her children regardless of their age.

Swear words were common place in the Stillion home. We have all heard people refer to profanity as "colorful" language. In the circles Ada ran in, profanity was so ordinary, so prevalent, so normal if you will, that profanity would not have even made the "colorful language" list by definition. Nevertheless, in her spirit, she knew it was wrong. From that moment on she felt there was no room in her heart for such things as profanity. Another of her requests, "Let me not swear again." From that day on, as a reflection of what God had done in her heart, never a swear word passed over the lips of Ada Stillion.

The conversion of Ada Stillion was so complete, so powerful, so remarkable, that from that night on, alcohol no longer held her hostage. The shackles of alcoholism that bound her to a life of shame, were loosed, and like the frail butterfly that escapes the web of a spider, she was free. This alcoholic never took another drink. Her addiction to tobacco also became but a memory of yesterday. So deep was her conviction that at a later date she actually made a special trip to Wisconsin to ask forgiveness of people she felt she had wronged all those years ago.

Due to the time of year there was still some ice floating down the river, nevertheless she insisted on and was baptized under conditions that most of us would deem not as practical. Though she was not a strong reader, she developed a deep hunger to read the Bible, which she did faithfully. She felt commissioned by God to minister to her people. She left Metropolis with that burning desire in her heart.

Back in Oak Park, Hazel anxiously awaited the return of her loved ones. Unaware of her Mother's conversion she was anticipating the celebration they would all enjoy with some of that good "White Lightening". At long last the day came when they finally pulled up in the driveway. I would have loved to have this part of the reunion taped as I am told their initial meeting went something like this.

Hazel lights up with excitement as she sees them arrive and scurries out of the house in the direction of the car. Ada and Nettie are making their way single file up the path toward Hazel. For some reason Nettie is shaking her head and motioning to Hazel in an odd fashion, as she follows her unsuspecting mother. However, Hazel is enthused with their return, she ignores her sister's frantic gyrations.

She can contain herself no longer and blurts out, "Where is the White Lightening?" Nettie rolls her eyes and replies, "Mom got converted!"

Hazel doesn't understand. "What?" she questions.

"Mom got saved!" Nettie barked.

By now Hazel is thoroughly confused and asked, "Saved? Saved from what?" Nettie decided to express the event in the vernacular of the day, "Mom got religion!"

With that Hazel's mystery was solved. She now understood in word, what she would later find out in deed that her mother was a different person than when she last saw her. The consensus among her family and many of the Oak Park residents was that Ada had lost her mind. No one could change that much that fast, perhaps she suffered some kind of breakdown? Maybe after all these years of abuse her drinking finally got the best of her? Perhaps with time she might come back to her senses. These were all questions that were thoroughly discussed and considered. But the "old" Ada was never to be heard from again and Oak Park along with its inhabitants would never be the same.

While it is true that no one can take credit for their own Salvation, it is also true that one must take responsibility to answer the "call" in order to experience God's saving grace. Being a free will agent we must make a choice, a decision to follow the "Great Shepherd" of our soul, or to graze elsewhere in the pastures of life. These are not hard tasks to succeed at in the security of Christian fellowship. However, it is quite another issue to live a victorious Christian life in the face of adversity and persecution with very little support. There is a certain amount of courage that is needed to "endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ". If you don't believe me, ask Simon Peter about courage and circumstance. Ada, as it turns out, made a great soldier. In her words, she was "mocked at, scorned at, spit at, persecuted and called everything but a saved woman". We know being treated in such a manner is unpleasant, but she happily endured it for the "Kingdom of God".

One by one the Spirit of the Lord through the living testimony of Ada Stillion began winning her loved ones forever. Prayer meetings begot Bible studies and soon a decision was made to secure a building where meetings could be held. The building chosen was a wooden structured edifice that I am told was a garage in its previous life. Ada Stillion was not the preacher in this church, however, that responsibility was given to her brother Al.

As the "family" began to grow they needed more room. Plans were made for a bigger and better building, one that had a real floor in it. Sometime in the late fifties this poverty-stricken Oak Park bunch backed their faith up with some works. Cement blocks were secured and a new "larger" building was under construction. It measured approximately 20' X 25'. It should be noted that Grandma Stillion participated in much of the physical labor that buildings require in order to be constructed. She and her beloved blind sidekick, Mabel Decker, better known to most of us as Sister Decker, not only mixed and carried the mortar that held the building together, but they also carried the heavy blocks to the bricklayer at a time when they both were on the far side of sixty. I doubt very much anyone thought of it at the time, but those acts of toil and love are very symbolic of the spiritual foundation Ada Stillion laid down for her people to build on. Each person's conversion truly was a building block in the church in many ways, with the influence of the Holy Spirit. She was the mortar that held us all together.

When construction was finished they painted the building white, both inside and out. The Church of Oak Park was officially born. With Ada Stillion as its pastor, that little building became the meeting place for the saints of Oak Park for approximately twenty years.

Only eternity will reveal the true outreach of Ada Stillion's Oak Park Church ministry. The very fact that you are reading these words right now is a testament to the influence of that impoverished little girl, who one day became of all things, a preacher, and to the unending love of an omnipotent Savior. One hard-hearted, middle-aged women, dirt poor, woefully uneducated and hopelessly addicted to the ways of the world, metamorphosed into a kind loving God-fearing soul of near biblical proportions with one touch from the Great I Am. She was one of the richest poor people I have ever run across.

Grandma Stillion stood on the Scripture that what she received from God that night in Metropolis was a promise that was for her, her children and "to all that are afar off...." How thankful I am for her courage, her dedication, her devotion, her love for her Savior and her love for her people. History will not recall her name with the same status as St. Augustine, C. S. Lewis or Billy Graham. She will not be mentioned in the same breath as Mother Teresa or Martin Luther King, but that's okay. I liken her efforts to a story I once heard that went something like this.

A violent storm had left a beach littered with star fish. Unable to return to the sea on their own, the starfish would die in a short period of time. A simple boy happened upon that particular shoreline and began throwing some back into the sea. A man noticed the labor of the lad and thought he might teach the young man a lesson about wasted effort. "Young man, why do you bother working so hard at such a futile task? The few that you save won't be enough to make a bit of difference in the world." Without missing a beat the boy bent over, pick up another starfish and hurled it into the safety of the ocean. With that he turned to the man and said, "Well, it made a difference to that one didn't it?"

Thanks for making a difference, Grandma!