Ruth and Maynard Guill were twentysomethings when the folks at their church, Weatherford Memorial of Richmond, began helping a young married couple studying at Virginia Union University. A.O. Adeyemi (pronounced Ah-de-ah-me) was 38 when he left his native Nigeria for studies in America. His wife, Abebi Adeyemi, was 32 when she joined him in 1962. It was shortly after her arrival that the couple made friends with Weatherford members. The American South of the ’60s was far different from today’s world, yet Weatherford folks reached out to the African strangers.
Fred Anderson
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The late Bill Clark, a member who was a social worker, served as Abebi’s sponsor. She remembers: “Someone had to stand for me [so] that when I came I would not be a liability. Bill Clark wrote to the American embassy in Nigeria and they gave me a permanent visa. I was the first person to have a permanent visa.”
Abebi shared her remembrances of her Richmond days in a sweet reunion which was planned by Ruth, Maynard and Providence. It took the latter to locate Abebi or “Hi-Baby” as the Weatherford folks years ago found easiest to pronounce the African name. Providence in the guise of good detective work enabled Ruth to find her lost long friend whom she had not seen since 1973.
It was not too difficult. She called Alice Gaventa, a former missionary who served in Nigeria and a member of Winfree Memorial in Richmond, who directed her to Peter, the son of William and Martha Gilliland, also former medical missionaries in Nigeria. (The Gillilands will enter into “Hi-Baby’s” story.) Peter checked the Internet and found several persons with the Adeyemi surname who lived in the last known place of residence in the United States. It turned out that Adeyemi for Nigerians is a common surname like Jones or Smith. Ruth wrote letters of inquiry to several persons named Adeyemi and, by Providence, one of those was “Hi-Baby.”
The plans were laid for a reunion. Hi-Baby’s daughter, Adebimbde, and her son, Toks, drove their mother to Virginia. After warm hugs and handshakes, the old friends took up where they left off nearly 40 years ago. The Guills brought their friend up-to-date on their church. They told about the church’s gradual decline in membership and of its decision to give itself away to an African-American church, St. Paul’s Baptist Church. Weatherford Memorial may have ceased but it is the most alive “dead” church in America. Ruth shared that their WMU still meets and that the church’s assets still benefit good Baptist causes.
“Hi-Baby’s” son, Adenrele Toks Adeyemi, also has another name. At birth, he was given an extra name of Weatherford. Of course, his parents had named him after the church which had befriended them; but by carrying the church’s name, he also was honored with the name of one of the great Virginia Baptist ministers, John Weatherford. The minister was among that generation of Baptists who were persecuted for their faith. He was imprisoned in Chesterfield jail simply for preaching.
It was difficult for the young Nigerian couple to survive as students in the ’60s. “Hi-Baby” had been to college and had taught for 10 years in Nigeria; but in America she could not find employment. The late Inez Thurston of Weatherford would take her from place to place in search of employment. “As soon as they heard my accent,” says “Hi-Baby,” “they would say ‘Bye, Bye!” The only jobs were sweeping floors.
The Guills meet friends for a reunion: (from left) Ruth, Toks, Abebi, Adebimbde and Maynard. Toks also was named for Elder John Weatherford, a Virginia Baptist minister of the 1700s.
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At Weatherford there were many new experiences. At a Valentine’s Day dinner, she was served her first spaghetti and wondered how to eat it. She educated the church folks about African customs, dress and dance. “Foreign missions” had come to Richmond.
When she was pregnant with Toks, the church friends held a baby shower. She wouldn’t open the gifts because in Nigeria it is customary to wait until seven days after a baby is born.
She still remembers kindnesses. At Christmas, church friends brought an artificial tree with money attached. Ruth and her sister struggled up a staircase with a baby bed and laughed so hard in the process that they cried.
When it became obvious to the couple that they could not care for their baby under the circumstances, a decision was reached. They would send little “Weatherford” back to Nigeria to be raised by his grandmother. The baby was three months old.
In September 1963, Maynard and a friend, Wayne Tucker, drove the Nigerians to New York City for the flight. The men’s wives had packed a lunch for the travelers and they went out “in the country” on Long Island and ate their picnic. At the airport, the Nigerians placed the infant into the arms of William Gilliland, the missionary, who was to take the baby to Africa. After all these years, the mother remembers: “I felt lost coming back to Richmond. I couldn’t open my mouth. It was as if this child had just died.”
Toks or “Weatherford” has grown into a tall, 6’4”, handsome man. Born an American, he returned at age 22 and lives and works in the Baltimore area. As a younger man, he considered enlisting in the military in order to acquire discipline and “learn some life lessons.” Instead, he learned them on his own. Today he has a beautiful family of his own: a wife, twin daughters and a son. “Everyday I get up,” he declares, “is a beautiful day. With that attitude, you can overcome a lot.”
A.O. Adeyemi died last year. He wanted to be buried in Nigeria and the family complied. His widow has given her own instructions: “I told my children when I die, bury me here. I have been here so long. I belong here.”
Abebi, still called “Hi-Baby” by Weatherford friends, does belong in America. She is a member of Hillandale Baptist Church in Adelphi, Md. She also is a living chapter in the long history of Weatherford Baptist Church. The church, especially under the influence of Pastor Lev Evans, a proponent of social ministries, early recognized a growing diversity in the population and practiced Christian love. Abedbi felt the reunion was “a fabulous time, sharing old experiences and glorifying God for sparing our lives and retaining our memories.” Sweet reunions are a part of God’s plan.
Fred Anderson is executive director of the Virginia Baptist Historical Society and the Center for Baptist Heritage and Studies. He may be contacted at [email protected] or at P.O. Box 34, University of Richmond, VA 23173.