Another uncertainty crept into concerns over jobs, money, church membership, and the Depression. Before the church board would begin the interview process, the candidates had to visit a doctor and receive a complete physical exam. “I see no reason this young couple could not serve in another country,” the physician reported. But he was concerned about Mabel. “Miss Orr is not only considerably underweight but has lost eight pounds in the last year. This would indicate the importance of building up her weight and strength before going abroad.”
On August 21, 1933, Martin wrote a polite and formal letter to Mr. and Mrs. John Christopher Orr, asking for their blessing on his and Mabel’s plans for a life together: “We know that you love her and want her near. Our work, however, may take us far away among other of God’s children.”
To Mabel he was more candid about his fears. “Getting married makes me just a bit afraid that I may not measure up to your ideal of me.” Yet amid the fears was some good news. The church office in New York might have jobs for them after all. A friend from seminary, who had recently been appointed of Tioga Baptist Church in Philadelphia, was interested in becoming one of their sponsors. Martin would probably have to give up his dream of going to Africa, but by this time he was ready to go wherever the church sent him.
Both Mabel and Martin had to complete a six-page application. One question inquired: “Would you go along with the majority?” Mabel replied: “Yes, unless it went against my principles.” Neither of them would compromise their beliefs in order to sound pious or to say what they thought the officials wanted to hear.
When asked about working with people of color, both Southerners stated that would be fine; they had had many good experiences with students of other races at leadership conferences. Would they respect other religions? “I would,” each wrote independently, “not only respect other religions but would work to keep the best of their traditions.”
That summer the engaged couple asked professors and friends to fill out long letters of reference, another part of the application process. They traveled to New York to be interviewed in person. Martin must have caused some suspicion among the stricter ministers on the committee, for the transcript shows that when he answered questions about how he would carry out church teachings, they repeatedly inquired, “Are you sure?” In a time when a wife was often considered only an accessory to her husband, the transcript for Miss Orr simply states: “No Questions.”
September 18, 1933
Dear Girl,
I am sending you a copy of the letter from Dr. Howard, appointing us to work among the Kachins of Burma. I wanted to send a telegram but got to thinking how much we would need that sixty-three cents in the next few weeks and months. [In the 1930s a favorite spot for honeymooners was Niagara Falls in upstate New York. Mabel and Martin would have to leave from New York City for Asia.] Niagara Falls on our way? Even if it did cost just a bit more?
Martin’s letters to his fiancée end with this one. How did Mabel finish her job among the young women in Miami, return to Birmingham, and plan a formal wedding? Years later she recalled:
I didn’t have much time to leave my YWCA job in good hands for my successor, plan a wedding, and shop for clothes that I would need for six years. Wool suits of “winter white” were quite the style in 1933, and I thought that would be fine for a going-away outfit and to use on shipboard and in England. I looked in all the shops, including the fine Loveman’s department store, but couldn’t locate one in the entire city. You see, Birmingham was a steel town and used soft coal in the steel mills. In the winter coal dust settled everywhere and on everything. No woman, however wealthy, would wear winter white in Birmingham.
Mabel and Martin were married the evening of October 21, 1933. The local newspaper carried a long article entitled “A Wedding of Interest”:
The bride grew up in the West End Methodist Church, scene of Saturday’s wedding. Miss Orr was admired and loved for her high qualities of mind and character and her charm and personality. She was a willing and capable worker in all activities of the church.
The article continued with Mabel’s accomplishments in college:
She won the silver loving cup as the outstanding personality at Athens College. She was also awarded a scholarship to the Blue Ridge YMCA conference center, where Miss Orr met the groom.
Martin, not a native son, did receive a small share of the announcement. A Southern newspaper delicately remarked about the financial scandal which had, a few years earlier, rocked the powerful Southern Baptist denomination:
The groom had waited for an appointment from the church which could not send him overseas by reason of financial embarrassment. Providence decreed that he should not go out alone. With him goes one of the choicest spirits and most capable religious workers in the country.
Martin and Mabel packed for their adventure to Asia, said farewell to all the family, and took the train to Philadelphia. On Sunday, November 12, 1933, in Tioga Baptist Church, Martin was ordained into the ministry. Mabel transferred her membership from Methodist to Baptist and joined the Tioga congregation. The next morning they left for New York, and on November 17 boarded a ship for Liverpool, England. There had been no time, or money, to see Niagara Falls.
7
A man and a woman from poor families in the South, who had never been farther away from home than New York City, were spending their honeymoon sightseeing in London. They had sailed to England on the ship Britannic and were scheduled from the port of Liverpool to Rangoon, Burma on the Henderson Line steam ship Amarapoora.
Mabel’s letters home were filled with both excitement about all they were seeing and homesickness for the family at Christmas, her first away from Alabama.
Steam Ship Amarapoora Christmas Eve, 1933, 9:30 p.m.
Dear Family,
How I would like to be triplets tonite—in Birmingham, Miami, and here. I have been wondering what you all are doing right now. Martin and I have just come up to the lounge from the playroom. The children aboard haven’t had any more fun, I know, than about a dozen grown-ups have had tonight. After dinner we began decorating an artificial tree, and put paper streamers above. In the process we got very playful, draping each others’ ears with tinfoil icesycles (sp?) Two of the young fellows got down on their knees—hard on tuxedos!—and played with some of the toys. Then one of them wrapped the other up as a gift. He looked like last year’s present.
This morning M. led the worship service. The captain, as well as others, said it was a lovely service. Martin used the Christmas story as Luke recorded it and spoke of what it can mean in our workaday world of today.
Just before sunset we went up to the ship’s prow and saw oodles of flying fish. They move like planes and their bodies shine like silver in the sunlight.
December 26—Christmas was a happy day for us, mixed with nostalgic memories of home and wondering what you were doing. We opened your package first; many thanks! M. gave me a beautiful ship picture; I had bought him a black leather wallet in London. We gave ourselves a large scrapbook to record our memories of this journey.
The English “Father Christmas” came into the children’s room with a bag of gifts and candy. It was a treat for the adults to watch them open their presents. That afternoon the captain invited the passengers on the bridge. It was so interesting to find out what all the gadgets were used for, and to watch the pilot. Dinner was a gala affair, with paper hats and whistles at our plates. The English celebrate Christmas a bit like we do New Year’s.
When the ship made a stop in Egypt, passengers were allowed to go ashore for the afternoon. Mabel knew that her father,