THE MASTER MEETS HIS MATCH – November 2013

By Buffy Calvert

Was there anything that my great-grandfather, James Bruce, could not do? Any limit to the prowess of the spellbinding preacher who kept bees in boxes he made himself and attached to his study window, who carved filigree brackets for home and church, and fashioned a wee cradle for his youngest daughter? The deep kitchen counters with drawers and hinged flour and sugar bins that we use today are his handiwork. He delighted in tinting carpet rags with homemade dyes and pronounced the results “perfect.” He could sew gloves, quilt “comfortables,” survey a piece of land. He butchered pigs and salted the meat.

The good pastor not only married and buried his parishioners, but sat by their deathbeds —all night if need be— and attended their post-mortems the next day!

Always a great communicator, he bought a printing press in 1867 and started the Andes Recorder, originally printed in the house. He wrote up the history of the Andes Presbyterian Church for Munsel’s History of Delaware County. In 1882, he installed the first telegraph (and electric doorbell) in his home on Delaware Avenue, and then personally helped string the wires up to Bovina to the house of fellow pastor, Reverend Lee.

His reading ranged from the Life of Napoleon to David Copperfield. He initiated the first Andes Volunteer Fire Department and Band to whom he taught the rudiments of music. He taught himself phonography (shorthand), photography, and typewriting.

On fine evenings, he and his wife Mary (whom he had loved at his first sight of her in a red cape on a white horse) went horseback riding. In winter, he hitched the horses to a cutter, took the reins in his skillful hands, and gave Mary a ride over blissfully smooth snow. He recorded the first sleigh ride of each year in his meticulously kept diary with satisfaction.

It seemed that the man could turn his hand to anything and master it. Then why do I find it so delicious to read in his journal for 1885—

“April 29- Snowing & storming this A.M. like March. Mary sick. Ell [his oldest daughter] with cold. Had to cook. No go.”   ~