Remembering William Bacon Evans

 Recently I’ve remembered a peculiar man I knew when I was a boy in Philadelphia. In our Society of Friends circles we met some interesting people from time to time. William Bacon Evans would always be at the Westtown Friends School reunions we attended. He had a derby hat on and what looked like an arrow through his head. He sat at a table of puzzles he made and demonstrated to us children. They were brain teaser puzzles that you’d have to think about pretty hard to solve. He always made them look so easy, but when we got them we struggled. They were made out of nails and various pieces of wood and things bent and twisted in shapes we had challenges getting apart or putting back together. 

He was a very impressive man and had been a teacher there for some years, and a mission teacher in the Middle East. He must have been fluent in several languages, including French and Arabic. He loved wildlife and was quite an expert on birds. He was a poet and published a book of poetry and short stories I have a copy of. 

I found a few articles about him. Here is one that captures him quite well. By the way, we grew up using the old fashioned Quaker pronouns at home. I have one brother that still tries to keep it going. It was normal for us to use ‘thee’ and ‘thy’ and ‘thine’ and ‘thou’ in conversation at home and meeting or with the Llewellyn family. This tradition of the Friends derived from their conviction that all of us are created equal and the nobility should not be addressed uniquely. It got them in big trouble, in addition to refusing to take off their hats in their presence. So they suffered severely in prison. Pennsylvania was a refuge for people oppressed for their religion set up by William Penn who was a member of the Society of Friends. My mother’s family, the Llewellyns, immigrated from Wales to Delaware County in 1683. Friends are pacifists, so most choose not to participate in military service, or do so only as non-combatants. I served during the Vietnam War as a conscientious objector voluntarily with Goodwill Industries for two years, 1970-1972 as an alternative to military service through the local Selective Service draft board.

October 1, 1970 FRIENDS JOURNAL

William Bacon Evans:

Laughter, Worship,

Humility

by Josephine M. Benton

WILLIAM BACON EVANS first visited us in 1940. He and Howard Elkinton had been traveling to Civilian Public Service Camps to minister to conscientious objectors.

When William Bacon Evans, in his broad-brimmed hat and collarless coat, stepped out of the car, I knew I was welcoming an authentic Quaker. (On another occasion, when he sat with an arrow through his head-or so it appeared-and peddled his handicraft on the boardwalks of Cape May during the Friends General Conference, it seemed to me he was akin to St. Francis of Assissi, who was ever willing to be considered a fool for Christ.)

At the dinner table we asked William Bacon Evans what he would like to eat. He replied, "A little of everything, but not too much of anything." He ate what was set before him but never took seconds. In the afternoon, he taught our children to cup their hands and whistle through them and to perform sleight-ofhand tricks, and he told them jokes and riddles. At bedtime, when we showed him the way upstairs to his room, my husband, with great pride, pointed out our shelves of Quaker books. After commenting on several of them, he said, "I seldom read."

Before nine-year-old John was tucked into bed, Bacon Evans arranged to go with him for an early morning hike. The two of them were up and out, had a good walk, and were back by the time breakfast was ready.

"Mother," cried out John when they returned, "do you know that there are eighty different kinds of oak trees? And we saw seven oaks just this morning and, oh, ever so many birds. Bacon Evans knew the name of every one!"

Breakfast over and the dishes wiped by Howard Elkinton, Bacon Evans suggested that we gather in the living room for a time of worship before the two of them proceeded on their way to Philadelphia. After a period of quiet meditation, our old Friend asked, "Elmon Benton, does thee have a Bible?" When my dear husband handed the leather-bound book to our honored guest, he said, "Thee is the head of the house.Thee must choose!"

Flabbergasted at this request, Elmon turned page after page frantically looking for a beloved familiar passage. Finally, he gave up and read at random some verse pertaining to sheep and goats. It spoke to no one's condition.

After such embarrassment, William Bacon Evans put us all at ease with a brief message.

In later years we often were in meetings where William Bacon Evans sat on the facing bench and blessed the gathering with a few right words. Once when young Friends were trying to take charge of an evening session, Bacon Evans arose and said, "If older Friends could loosen their purse strings and tighten their lips, the Young Friends Movement would go forward."

His prayers deepened meetings for worship. He was the only Friend I have ever known who knelt down to pray at meeting. His humility before our Lord humbled all of us.

He knew that worship and laughter alike are fitting gifts to God. After meeting for worship, he could be found entertaining children and their elders with anecdotes and puzzles. Violet Hodgkin, an English Friend, defined a saint as one who let the light shine through. William Bacon Evans was one of our modern saints. The light shone through him because he had no fear-no fear of death, no fear of being different from others. He wore no tie and

a coat without a collar in the manner of early Friends and used the plain language with everyone, not just fellow Quakers. He never was afraid to appear ridiculous. When he no longer taught school, he spent many hours making

toys and puzzles for children, which he sold for the benefit of American Friends Service Committee.

At one of the Cape May Conferences, some Quakers thought William Bacon Evans gave the Religious Society of Friends a poor reputation. They objected to his practice of sitting on the boardwalk with his wares spread out before him and wearing on his head a wooden arrow that appeared to have been shot through his skull.

I believe the light and love of God burned away all egocentricity in this gentle man. He was willing to look foolish in the eyes of men to increase the fun of little boys.

He was an artist, and he loved to paint leaves and birds. At one Quarterly Meeting I bought a superb example of his handiwork-a most natural-looking meadow lark in the midst of real dried grass set in a wooden frame. He

tapped the creativity at the heart of the universe. He was teacher, preacher, artist, craftsman, clown, manual laborer.

When he visited conscientious objectors, he worked with them as they felled the forest trees or did other heavy work.

An anecdote that epitomizes his unique gift of combining worship and laughter is from his younger years when he taught French in Westtown School.

One day, the story goes, a boy bent on mischief ran into William Bacon Evans as he came round a comer.

"Jesus Christ!" blurted the student.

"Only his humble servant," was the reply.

William Bacon Evans with his hand made puzzles at Cheltenham Friends Meeting House, Fox Chase, PA around 1958. We were members there. That’s my mother and I at the table.

William Bacon Evans (1875-1964) was born in Philadelphia, son of William and Rebecca Carter Evans. A Quaker, he attended Westtown School, Columbia University, Harvard University and Rollins College. In 1903, he went to Europe to practice French and study European birds. From 1908-1910, he taught French and general science at Westtown School. From 1919-1930, he taught English, French and general science to orphan boys at an English Quaker mission run by Daniel and Emily Oliver in Ras el-Metn (Ras el-Matn) in Lebanon. In this period he learned Arabic which served him when he visited Palestine and Syria as well as Israel. He was an avid student of ornithology. He gradually adopted Quaker plain dress and language. He was the primary author of entries in the Dictionary of Quaker Biography. At the close of his life, he was a member of Monthly Meeting of Friends of Philadelphia.