In time, we became engaged. After living for two years in California as students at Upland College, we returned to Ontario for the summer and were married in the chapel of NCC. After obtaining my M.A. degree at Western University, I joined the NCC faculty. Our two daughters, Karen and Donna, spent, respectively, their first seven and six years on the school’s campus where we lived. Understandably, NCC has been a significant part of our lives!

My experiences as a student at NCC (then known as Ontario Bible School) in many ways were different from my experiences in the Selkirk high school. At NCC, a strong spiritual atmosphere prevailed over much of student life. Class periods began with prayer, everyone (students and faculty) attended daily chapel, revival meetings occurred twice a year, students took required Bible courses, and from time to time the Gospel Team gave programmes off campus. Not least important, we could relate in meaningful ways with faculty because they were professing and vocal Christians. The spiritual nourishment and life-directing influence of such features were, of course, the major reason for the existence of the school.

Dorothy Sherk was principal and a common favourite of students. An excellent administrator, teacher and counsellor, she was also sufficiently young and forward-looking to gain our youthful friendship and respect. Among her many useful observations on life was her claim that one could obtain a sufficient education apart from formal schooling simply by consistently reading a daily newspaper.

Pauline Herr from Pennsylvania was also much admired, both for her intelligence and her attractive appearance, the latter feature being the subject of some conversation among the boys. One day she came to our history class in obvious elation. The Republicans, she happily informed us, in the election of the previous day had won both houses of Congress.

I roomed on the top floor of Belmont in one of the two rooms facing north. The window in the small room did not fit well in its frame; after a snowstorm, we could expect to see a small pile of snow on the floor.

The school’s yearbook claims that I was “a lively resident of the fourth floor.” That claim could also have been made of my roommates - Arthur Heise and Clarence Climenhaga. Our combined liveliness one night resulted in one of my teeth getting chipped by a bottle thrown by Arthur from the bunk above where I lay. I did not have the tooth repaired until many years later, thus I carried for decades a too visible mark of my student life at NCC.

Meals were adequate, even for hungry teenagers. Mary Lyons made basic foods enjoyable—as much as could be expected. I best remember a dish comprised mainly of hamburger and macaroni, but containing other sometimes unrecognizable ingredients (“leftovers” we thought), leading some of us to label the dish as Grand Old Mixture (or GOM for short). Apple butter was in good supply, being donated by someone in the Kitchener-Waterloo area. But its flavour was too much diminished by “filler,” which probably was pumpkin.

As teenagers we were understandably interested in sports. But sports had their limitations. We had no gymnasium, thus sports were limited largely to those that could be played outdoors, mainly baseball and hockey, the latter in a scooped-out area shortly to the west of Belmont.

Another limitation was the understanding that sports could not be extramural. During the winter of that year, the boys talked about playing a hockey game against Eden (a Mennonite high school in the Vineland area). I mentioned our talk to my father who (inadvertently, I think) mentioned it to a couple of other ministers. Soon two trustees arrived on campus to speak with me. There would be no game played with Eden, they declared, and I was not to spread such talk again.

Not surprisingly, music was an important part of our student life. Quartets, trios, a mixed choir, four-part singing in chapel reflected the music heritage of the school’s constituencies. For part of a year I sang on a quartet that included Henry Regier.

As my first-day experience suggests, NCC was a place where special relationships could be and often were formed, some of them eventually leading to marriage. But like sports, dating had limitations, such as no dating at movies or dances or other activities considered “worldly.” Where then could students date? 

Leone and my dating was something of a general pattern. Our first date was a bicycle ride around “the circle” near the school, with Leone sitting on the crossbar. Subsequently we dated by attending Bible conferences, revival meetings, and love feasts (special weekend services of the Brethren in Christ). For one date, we joined another couple (Arthur Heise and Verna Climenhaga, a faculty member) to travel to a Mennonite church east of Buffalo for a music programme given by Eastern Mennonite College (now University). There for the first time I heard the song “Going Home” based on Antonin Dvorak’s New World Symphony. (Whenever I now listen to that symphony, I reflect on the loveliness and educational value of that date.) On our return to NCC, we bought two dozen donuts, thus adding to the sweetness of the occasion.

When we returned to NCC in 1955 to join the staff, much had changed. Now the school could boast of having a new name, a gymnasium-auditorium, a grade 13, and extended sports activities which included a few extramural sports (and, yes, a game with Eden).

What had not so much changed was the occasional need for disciplinary action, for which in my years as principal I had a major responsibility. We sent one student home for several days for playing pool in Fort Erie. When several girls left campus without permission, we gave each the penalty of writing one hundred times a promise never to repeat the offense. One student whom we expelled arrived home prior to my letter to his parents explaining the reasons for their son’s expulsion. The parents never received the letter.

n one instance, disciplinary resolve quickly dissolved. I was standing in the vestibule of Belmont when a student, Ronald J. Sider (who later wrote Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger fame), came running across the floor, a pail in hand. In as stern a voice as I could muster, I stopped him and said, “Ron. Stop! You know perfectly well there is to be no running in the vestibule.” In a polite voice, Ron replied, “Yes, I know the rule. But I’m running to get a pail of water because my car is on fire.” I replied, “Keep on running!”

Hindsight, as the saying goes, is better than foresight. I readily admit that I was not always wise in my disciplinary action. I take this opportunity to ask forgiveness of all NCC students whom I unfairly punished.

I take more pleasure in thinking of the many good students whom I was fortunate to teach. To mention a few students I taught and of whose careers I have a little knowledge is to suggest the quality of the student body as a whole: Ronald J. Sider, John Gilmore, Roger Sider, Mark Charlton, Neil Sider, Anna Ruth Sider, Donald McNiven, and Roger Grant. Surely many more names could be added to this list.

I completed my Ph.D. while teaching at NCC. Then in 1963 our family moved to Pennsylvania where I joined the faculty of Messiah College. For many years I also had a writing career, and I served as archivist for Messiah College and the Brethren in Christ Church. But our years at NCC have remained a treasured memory.

A dream that has occurred many times over the years illustrates the fondness that remains for the school. In these dreams I accept an invitation to return to teach at NCC. When I arrive on campus, I always ask myself, “Did I act wisely in leaving an institution of higher learning to teach again at NCC?” The answer that comes in my dreams is always: “Yes, I did!