USA > New Hampshire > Cheshire County > Rindge > Cathedral of the Pines : a place of worship for all people > Part 1
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GEN
ALLEN COUNTY PUBLIC LIBRARY 3 1833 01805 5811
GENEALOGY 974.202 R47CAT
Cathedral of the Pines
Binbge, Rem 3hampshire
Catedral of the pines Hymn dy REV. HARDING W GAYLORD Kingston, B& L.
Sweer shrine of God where thoughts are heavenwird turning Roofed by the sky, thou place of finon wide, Here we would palce; here answer find for yearning. Here would we pray; here seek our Jeuvenly Guide Sweer shrine of God! here would we dream and plan To match the beauty in the Life of man.
God meets us here; He whispers in high branches Kind seems his presence in each tiny flower, Euch high-piled cloud bis majesty enhances, Each rising hill proclaims his might and power. Sweet shrine of God! we love thy calm and peace; Here from earth's noises we can seek release
No: here alone, but everywhere, O Father, May thoughts of thee within our hearts abound. ind when cloud: grim and dark around us gather, In thee may certain faith and light be found. Fair be our lives and all our life-designs, Like this sweet shrine, "Cathedral of the Pines!" TUNR: FINLANDIA
Cathedral of the Pines
a place of worship for all people
CATHEDRAL OF THE PINES
DEICATED' TO ALMIGHTY GO AS A PLACE WHERE ALL PEOPLE MAY WORSHIP
IN'MEWORY OF LT. SANDERSON SLOANE KILLED IN ACTION OVER.GERMARY FED 22.1944
THE GIFT OF HIS PARENTS DOUGLAS AND SIBYL SANDERSON ILCANE
Photo by Bernice B. Perry
"THE BOULDER"
"Unless the Lord build the house,
they labor in vain that build it."
Photo by Bernice B. Perry
The Cathedral of the Pines
Dedicated to the Glory of God and given in loving and grateful memory of Sanderson Sloane by his parents, Douglas and Sibyl Sanderson Sloane, as a place where all people may come and worship, each in his own way, returning thanks to Almighty God for His innumerable benefits, for the strength and inspiration which come from His hills, solace and assurance from His valleys with their life-giving waters, joy from the songs of His birds, courage, under God's boundless heaven, to meet the daily needs, sympathy and understanding by association one with the other, and as the wind whispers through His Pines, re-echoing voices and prayers from the past, acknowledge, each for himself, a continuing obligation to the forefathers to keep secure their heritage of spiritual and intellectual freedoms.
"What an absolutely glorious use God is making of the Cathedral!"
RIGHT REVEREND OLIVER L. LORING, Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Maine
Photo by Bernice B. Perry
ואהבת את יהוה אלהיך
"Through an Emerald Arch" The Entrance to the Cathedral
ואהבת לרעך לוווד
The English and Hebrew inscriptions on the Entrance Boulders correspond to recall that the Ten Command- ments on two tablets of stone were received from Moses on Mt. Sinai.
The Cathedral of the Pines
AND HOW IT ALL BEGAN
THE PLAN
THE PURPOSE
WWWWWWMATHE SLOANES' SUMMER HOME T was on Cramer's Point, jutting out into the waters of Lake George, N. Y. Dur- ing the summer of 1935, while walking along the rocky shore of the Point, Mr. and Mrs. Sloane came upon the stone now topping the Lectern in the Cathedral of the Pines. Shaped like an open book, the stone
created an urge for an out-of-door chapel.
The location for the chapel was orig- inally planned for the grounds of their Newtonville, Mass., home. The decision as to the right location could not be agreed upon.
The Lake George property was sold because of its commuting distance to Newtonville. Shortly thereafter an agree- ment was signed and deposit given to
3
CATHEDRAL OF THE PINES
CATHEDRAL HOUSE (formerly "INTERLAKEN")
purchase, subject to good title, a small summer place on Cape Cod. For two years two Cape Cod lawyers worked to clear the title but without success. Tired of delays, Margaret (Peggy) Sloane said to her father, "Dad, why don't you look at a farm? All of my friends' folks have farms." Farm? In the dark days of The Depression the suggestion had appeal.
So it was arranged that Edgar C. Gillett show available property within easy striking distance of Newtonville. Two old friends accepted an invitation to accompany them, it being mid-Oc- tober and coloring of the foliage at its zenith. The Sloanes had seen an advertise- ment of a place off Route No. 119 in Massachusetts for sale captioned "A lot for a little."
The words should have been trans- posed. Mr. Gillett said he felt sure he knew just the place they'd like if they didn't mind going on a bit farther. "And the price is right, too."
"How much farther?"
"Only over the Massachusetts line in New Hampshire."
"New Hampshire! Nothing doing! Too far!" The Sloanes were only familiar with the White Mountain section and had frequently argued the beauties of that region against those of the Adirondacks.
"It's only eleven miles farther on - only an hour and a half drive from New- tonville. Takes that long to get to the Cape and you don't have the traffic."
Good salesmanship prevailed. Also, the friends were enjoying the outing.
He, in his car, they following in theirs, drove along a winding road, constantly increasing pressure on ear-drums indi- cating they were attaining altitude. Only an occasional house and barn, the coun- try side was rather heavily wooded. Pines, spruce and hemlock contrasted with the fiery maples. A lone birch, or a clump of gray or white birch, em- phasized the brilliance of the autumnal colorings. Magnificent vistas opened as almost every bend in the road was rounded. A glimpse of Mt. Monadnock, up and down hills, then up the long climb to Rindge Center, circling around the old Meeting House, off onto a dirt road which eventually skirted the shore of Grassy Pond. Then up, up the "Big Hill."
As they reached its crest they saw Mr. Gillett driving into the yard of "Inter- laken," appropriately named because the property is almost circled by three ponds or small lakes. Later they learned that at sunrise, before the mists rising from the circling ponds are dispelled, they form a halo around the Cathedral Knoll, which, when penetrated by the early rays of the sun, has all of the colors of the rainbow. Mr. Sloane stopped the car to make a sur- vey. The sloping fields to the woods which line the shimmering waters of Emerson Pond, the distant, circling, New Ipswich hills, the carpet of colors, the buildings themselves - barns, shed and house reminiscent of the best of Currier and Ives - they knew at that moment this place would be theirs.
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CATHEDRAL OF THE PINES
It was. There was no dickering over the price, not even a "walking of the bounds." Before going into the house the group climbed the ridge back of the barn. Atop the ridge they stood and looked. Mr. Gillett explained that the farm comprised the house and buildings and some 128 acres. He pointed out the approximate boundaries but his words re- ceived scant attention. Words could not compete with the scene spread before and behind them. To the south the land sloped to Emerson Pond, to the west and below lay Grassy Pond. Across Grassy Pond, over another ridge and towering over the surrounding region was majestic Mt. Monadnock. What a spot for the chapel! Eventually, stones for this pur- pose were dragged to this location from the old Perry place.
Within the month exchange of title had been duly recorded in Keene, Cheshire County seat, and the Sloanes took possession.
Some weeks later, a group of former members of Troop One, B.S.A., Newton- ville, Mass., of which Mr. Sloane had been Scoutmaster, his sons Doug and Sandy members, and Jack a candidate, came to spend the day. It was following
SETH CLEAVES
"SANDY"
a Service in the Cathedral of the Pines and during a reunion of the Scouts of this Troop that Mr. Sloane was completely surprised by the gift of a check, repre- senting donations from all of these "Old Timers," to start the Cathedral of the Pines Endowment Fund to help main- tain and perpetuate the Cathedral pro- ject. After the noonday meal an ex- ploratory hike was suggested. It led up across the "5 Acre Piece" mowing, now used for parking. There was a small opening in the old weathered stone wall separating the field from a pine grove. Through this the group passed and onto a narrow trail. Giant pines reared their heads to the heavens. Dead lower branches intermingled and guarded the lush bedding of needles. The huge trunks of the trees and their dead limbs made it quite impossible to see more than 30 or 40 feet in any direction. The heavy upper branches screened much of the sunlight. Occasional shadows of birds winging silently through these Pines seemed spirits from the Beyond. The peace and quietness, the majestic col- umns, the solemnity of the imprint of the ages - it was like a Cathedral.
From then on the Trail was a treat for all the visitors and for every member of the family.
Came the hurricane and the heart-
5
Photo by Raymond St. George
ROMAN CATHOLIC SOLEMN HIGH MASS
Rev. John A. McSweeney, Pastor of St. Patrick's Church, East Jaffrey, N. H., Celebrant. Rev. Thomas F. Hogan, Deacon. Rev. Thomas Savage, Sub-Deacon. Rev. Thomas A. Shanahan, S.J., of Ateneo, Manilla, P.D., Chaplain in World War II, gave the Sermon. Rev. Francis X. McMullen, Master of Ceremonies.
aches of 1938. Months elapsed before The Knoll was visited. Lumbermen from Maine requested and received permission to salvage what they could. Interest had died with those Pines. Then came a day in Spring, 1939, clear and cold. Mr. and Mrs. Sloane and Sandy hiked up through the "5 Acre Piece" mowing again, climbed over the old stone wall, made their way through the unkept stand of young pines which the wind had spared, through a maze of brush and downstuff, to the edge of The Knoll. Trees lying one on top of the other formed a barricade. They climbed the trunks of these fallen giants as one would a step-ladder. They looked out and over. It was many mo- ments before a word was spoken. They saw no destruction. There before them lay the panorama which is the reredos of the Altar of the Nation in the Cathedral
of the Pines. At the foot of The Knoll lay Bullett Pond, water supply for the next town of East Jaffrey, assurance that the view would be forever perpetuated un- disturbed. Here they would build their chapel.
Time went on. The children, Douglas, Sanderson, Margaret and John, were of- fered their choice of sections of the farm on which they might, at some future date, erect either summer or permanent homes. Peggy remained undecided as to which site had most appeal. Doug and Jack both chose locations bordering Emerson Pond. Sandy chose "just inside the stone wall atop the 5 Acre Piece mowing." The Boulder is placed at the approximate spot where he would have built his home.
In 1940 "Interlaken" became "home" to the Sloanes.
War alarms late that year saw Sandy
6
CATHEDRAL OF THE PINES
Photo by Bernice B. Perry
REV. FR. THOMAS A. SHANAHAN, S.J. Ateneo, Manilla, P.D.
immediately enlist in the Selective Serv- ice. After a year with the 211th A.A.A.A. at Camp Edwards and Camp Hulen, he reenlisted in the Enlisted Reserves and spent four months at home until called to join the Engineering Corps in Port- land, Maine. He applied for and was ac- cepted by the Army Air Corps in 1942, as did Jack, who later returned from ac- tive duty in North Africa, Italy, France, Yugoslavia and Germany with many decorations and citations as a pilot of- ficer of a B-26 bomber.
Shortly after beginning his preliminary flight training at Lakeland, Florida, Sandy married Margaret (Pegs) Allen, of Newton Centre, Mass., whose summer home, which now belongs to the Cathe- dral of the Pines Trust through the generosity of Pegs, adjoined "Inter- laken". Pegs' mother, Mrs. Arthur M. Allen, relates that her son, Jack, when a very small boy, often called at "Inter- laken" with the request he be taken up into "God's Pines". This was a child's designation of the old Pine Grove.
Sandy was commissioned a 2nd Lieu- tenant and awarded his wings in 1943. While being briefed for overseas late in that year he learned of the birth of his son, Sanderson, Jr., but had no chance to see his boy. (Sandy, Jr. died when he was not quite three years old.)
Commissioned a 1st Lieutenant and pilot of the B-17 Bomber "Peg-O-My- Heart" he had almost a sufficient number of missions-over-Germany to his credit to entitle him to home Service. Letters came frequently and many expressed his wish that "nothing be touched" until he returned for he wanted to do it.
In mid-February, 1944, Arch White- house, noted writer and war correspond- ent and "ace" in World War I, phoned, saying he had just returned from the other side, had seen Sandy who had sent his love and reported that the boy was "well and doing fine." Mr. and Mrs. White- house live in Westmoreland, New Hamp-
REV. FR. WILFRID TISDELL (left) St. Mary's Church Winchendon, Massachusetts
RT. REV. MSGR. CHARLES EDWARD BEAUDRY Chief of Chaplains of the Canadian Armies
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CATHEDRAL OF THE PINES
REV. DR. CHARLES C. NOBLE Methodist Dean, Hendricks Memorial Chapel, Syracuse University
shire, about forty miles from Rindge. An invitation was immediately extended to them to "come over." They did. Arch Whitehouse graciously recounted his ex- perience in meeting Sandy and the fol- lowing account is an excerpt from the ar- ticle he wrote for The Reader's Digest, issue of April, 1947:
I first met Sandy on a dark fog- streaked day of a war-time December in Britain. He and his crew of the Flying Fortress "Peg-O-My-Heart" had just re- turned from a precarious mission over Bremen. The target had been defiantly guarded and the Forts of the 525 Bomber Squadron had withdrawn from the hos- tile area, their formation badly dispersed. On their way across the North Sea they were advised of a sudden change in the weather and were ordered to seek emer- gency landings at any field that could ac- commodate them.
Sandy came into Knettleshaw where I was posted as a war correspondent, and put down safely during the last few min- utes of visibility. An hour later I came upon him hunched up over a small stove. He attracted me for several reasons. First, he was still encased in his bulky
altitude equipment, whereas most every- one else had by this time changed into clean slacks and smartly pressed blouses. He sat there quiet and unseeing. He might have been tall. He might have been chunky. It was impossible to tell. But he was young even though the light from the puny grate exaggerated the lines about his eyes. Someone had handed him a mug of hot coffee, but it trembled and slopped over as he held it on his knee. I'd met hundreds like him by that time. They were all alike. Just another Ameri- can boy, a long way from home and Christmas Eve only a few hours away.
Sandy considered me with no par- ticular interest as I explained that the Knettleshaw Group was holding its monthly party and dance. Already the long hall was gaily decorated, a G.I. orchestra was tuning up in the Lounge and outside welcoming arms were carry- ing pretty young English girls gathered from nearby social centers; from the tail- boards of Army trucks and across the mud paths to the steps of the Officers' Club entrance.
He explained his being there and I of-
Photo by Bernice B. Perry
REV. DR. SAMUEL MACAULEY LINDSEY Brookline, Mass., Baptist Church
8
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BUILDING THE ALTAR OF THE NATION
fered to help him borrow more suitable clothing. He thanked me but made no effort to accept my invitation so we just sat there talking.
He told me his name was Sanderson Sloane, that he'd gone to the Newton High School in Massachusetts and for four years to Dartmouth College; that he had married Margaret Allen, which accounted for the name on the battered bomber, and that they had a son whom his wife insisted on naming "Sandy, Jr.". He had a brother, John, training on bombers back in the States, who would soon be ready for overseas. I asked him where he lived and he mumbled some- thing indistinct about New Hampshire. "New Hampshire!" I answered with en- thusiasm, "Boy, do you know you're the first American from New Hamp- shire I've met since I came over here. I thought I'd never find one before I went back."
"You're going home?" Sandy asked hollowly.
"Within a couple of weeks. Soon as I can get transportation," I explained.
The change that came over Sandy was startling. Suddenly, there was no one else in the room . . . or so it seemed. His eyes glowed. He sat up straight and stared at me like a man from another world.
"Got a notebook or a piece of paper?" he asked. "When you go back, go see my
father, Douglas Sloane, of Rindge, New Hampshire." He even gave me the tele- phone number. "Tell Dad and Mom you saw me and that I'm fine and well and getting along swell - and not to worry. Gosh, you might even see my wife and the boy! You'll do that, won't you?"
"Of course", I assured him. "Rindge? Why that's only a few miles from my village - Westmoreland. Sure, I'll go and see him.'
You do and say things like that with- out thinking, without knowing what the outcome can be. I knew what could hap- pen, but I figured there must be a law of
JOHN CROSBY, SR.
9
CATHEDRAL OF THE PINES
Photo by Bachrach
REV. DR. ARTHUR H. BRADFORD Congregationalist of Providence, R. I.
averages that gave a boy a break some- where.
Sandy went on, staring into the semi- darkness beyond the glow of the fire. "When you go home," he said quietly, "go up and see my knoll. It's right near our house. Remember the hurricane of 1938? Well, it's just as if God had taken a hand in the making of it. Just as though He had finished something that had slipped His mind. My knoll used to be guarded by giant pines and it was like walking into a great green cave, but the big wind came and blew most of the trees down."
He was talking with poetic ease now as though he'd thought it all out some- where alone and was now ready for his final recitation.
"For weeks we didn't dare go up and examine the damage. We all felt sick about it. But we had to face it and one late Spring morning, we - Dad and Mom and I - walked up. Instead of the destruction we expected, there stretched before us the most beautiful view God ever put together. No one had ever seen that view before because of those big
trees. Only the small ones on the crest were left and they spread their branches and formed an emerald arch through which we looked down on Bullett Pond and Grassy Pond, Mt. Monadnock and the whole Monadnock Divide. Off to one side is Temple Mountain and past it The Packs and Crotched and the rolling hills all the way to Mt. Kearsarge. And over to the west through the saddle be- tween Little Monadnock and Gap Moun- tain you can see the Green Hills of Ver- mont a hundred miles away."
He stopped and looked at me curiously. "Queer how I can remember all the de- tails, but I'm not making it up. You should see it in the Fall with all the colors reflecting in the Ponds. You don't notice the fallen trees at all," he assured me. "They seem to have toppled into a gorge so they no longer obstruct the view. But there'll have to be a lot of work done up there, though."
I listened and watched the boy sensing that here was honest nostalgia at its finest. In my notebook I just wrote, “See Douglas Sloane in Rindge, N. H." There didn't seem to be much more to the story.
"When you see Dad," Sandy went on, "tell him not to touch my knoll until I get back. One of these days I'm going to build something there. Something worth while. Maybe only a cabin, maybe a house. I don't know what, but it will have to be right. Maybe I shouldn't even touch it," he said solemnly, "it's just like a cathedral."
And then, as if to cover up his con- fession, he suddenly slapped me on the shoulder and cried, "Hey, what about the party? Let's go!"
Two days after this visit from the Whitehouses the telegram from the War Department was received saying Sandy was missing in action over Ger- many.
During the next 12 months Mr. and Mrs. Sloane often visited The Knoll. After the first snowfall late that year, to- gether they began clearing and burning
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CATHEDRAL OF THE PINES
the brush where the Boulder now stands. This was the approximate spot where Sandy would have his home. After a reasonable sized clearing was made, a narrow trail was cut through the young pines and brush to The Knoll.
Official notice of Sandy's death came in January, 1945. That summer many friends visited The Knoll. Susan and Genevieve Doran, Everett E. Brainard, Albert Wade, John Salinger, and many others began to assist in clearing away the dead branches of the young pines. Sturgis and Elsie Coffin often came over from Fitzwilliam. The Reverend Dr. H. Robert (Bob) Smith, the Reverend Dr. A. Vincent Bennett, the Reverend James E. McKee, Bishop George W. Davenport - all close friends of the family - were asked their opinions re- garding a memorial "Cathedral". There was unanimous favorable agreement.
The clearing being sufficiently large by the middle of August 1945, it was de- cided to hold an out-of-door Service at 4 o'clock in the afternoon of the last Sun- day of that month. Reverend James E. McKee, of All Saints Episcopal Church in Peterborough, N. H., was invited to conduct the Service. The Reverend Dr. Robert Fletcher, of the Rindge Center Congregational Church and the Rev- erend Arthur L. Mansure, of the Metho- dist Churches in West Rindge and Peterborough, were asked to assist and graciously accepted.
The Selectmen of the Town of Rindge, Sidney B. Fitzgerald, Douglas B. Coates, and William Cleaves gave permission to use the Town Hall benches. They were trucked to the hilltop by Walter La- Freniere where he and Seth Cleaves car- ried them into the grove.
All was in readiness when, at exactly + o'clock the time set for the Service, the clouds, which had had an ominous look all of the day, opened up and down came the rain! Seth Cleaves and Mr. Sloane hurriedly dragged the benches back and under what cover there was. Just as they were bringing the last bench out they
looked across the "5 Acre Piece" - being used for the first time as a parking lot - and saw a long cavalcade of cars moving up the road and coming onto the field. One hundred and twenty-seven neighbors and friends waited in their cars until it stopped raining. Then they went into the grove under dripping branches, lugging back the benches to sit on.
The clergy were there and so was a small group to furnish the music. Henry M. Hale, with a big double bass Sousa horn, Karl Brummer (father of Edward Carleton Brummer, Peggy's husband), with his trombone, Herman Hill with his trumpet, Mrs. Hill with a saxophone, Joseph Wheeler with his clarinet and Herbert Willard with his trumpet. This band did their best to aid the Service hymn singing.
The response by those present at that Service was such that immediate plans were made by Mr. and Mrs. Sloane to go ahead with the development of what is now the Cathedral of the Pines.
During the rest of that Fall, all through the winter - some of the days the thermometer registered 20 degrees
Photo by Bernice B. Ferry
ARTHUR H. WETHERBEE
11
CATHEDRAL OF THE PINES
Photo by Bernice B. Perry LOUIS AND EMILY STEBBINS
below zero with the wind zipping un- checked across from Mt. Monadnock - the job of clearing the grove went for- ward. Sawing, chopping, lugging, burn- ing - each day saw some progress. By the time the frost was out of the ground in the Spring of '46 most of the crest of The Knoll had been cleared. Seth Cleaves and his old blind mare did heroic work during this period. Dennis Stoddard and his crew began trucking the rocks.
Pegs (Sandy's widow) selected the site for the Altar which met with unani- mous approval by all members of the family. All of the appointments in the Cathedral were designed by Mr. Sloane, who did his share in the work of prepara- tion with axe and saw, pick-axe and shovel. Jason Sawyer sent his bulldozer over to the Knoll and it "persuaded" the large stumps to move so digging could begin. "Old" John Crosby was engaged to do the masonry and he came with his son-in-law, Bill Bryant, and Everett Blair as helpers. Don Smith and Ray Hammond, carpenters extraordinary, commenced their continuing valuable services to the Cathedral. At the time, Mr. Sloane was president of the New Hampshire Society of the Sons of the American Revolution. Mr. Harry E. Sherwin, a direct descendant of one of
the first settlers of Rindge, was Secretary of this Society. Mr. Sloane requested Mr. Sherwin to ask other State Societies to send stones from their respective States to place in the proposed Altar. By parcel post, air-mail, freight and personal de- livery the stones came.
The reason for requesting these stones was this: all of the hundreds of tons of rock which were being used for the foundations of the appointments, for the appointments themselves, had been dug from the "5 Acre Piece mowing" and the slope from Cathedral House to the lane bordering this mowing. Every year from 1760 to 1937, before those generations of Hales who had owned the old farm could plant their crops, the land was plowed. Each plowing necessitated the removal of sizeable crops of stones. This effort sym- bolized a determination for better living, for freedom and for independence. Men had gone from this farm and from similar farms along the eastern seaboard to populate the other States. It seemed fit- ting and proper to ask the descendents of those Old Timers to send back tokens, to bed in with those the pioneers had dug from this land, as a symbol of the unity and strength of a grateful nation.
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