McKim, John

MCKIM

Posted By: Mary H. Cochrane, Volunteer
Date: 7/2/2019 at 13:23:36

John Joseph McKim

Lamoni's Passing Parage"
by Joseph A. Anthony. p. 160. Blair Printing Co. ca. 1948.

One of the thriving business institutions during the 90's was the McKim Hotel, which occupied the large frame building just north of the depot, now owned by John Foster. In the early days of Lamoni John McKim had selected this site close to the depot as being favorable to a business of this kind and had built his hotel here, where it proved a convenience to the traveling public; and to further add to this convenience, especially for the benefit of the traveling salesman who wished to make the surrounding inland towns, he also established a livery service and built a large livery barn across the road east of the hotel. His son Martin, as reliable and dependable a man as ever conducted business in Lamoni, had charge of the stable, while Everett, a grandson, was chief handyman and divided his time between both institutions, wherever the need was most pressing. John McKim was one of the early pioneers in this community, having been attracted to this locality through church interests, but who as the years passed, allowed his religious fervor to become cooled to the extent that he was openly critical of the church which had chosen Lamoni as its headquarters, and he was not in the least hesitant in condemning many of the activities of its leaders. He was one of those fussy, fidgety kind of men, quite excitable and impatient, and when demands about the hotel became urgent and more than normally pressing he would flit about the place here and there, from one task to another, giving none of them adequate attention, and finally in desperation he would invariably step to the door and call excitedly: "Marty, Marty, Everett, Everett," until one or the other of these assistants came to his rescue and cared for the demands of the moment.

On the whole, however, he was undoubtedly a clever businessman, and under his supervision the business prospered. With his friends he was jovial and congenial, and with adults and youngsters alike he was known quite universally as Uncle Johnnie. But while he could be friendly and pleasant, and tolerant of the youngsters and their minor familiarities about his place of business, he could also be, if occasion demanded, very firm and severe. This fact I found out one day in a way that I will not soon forget.

At the time I had a paper route and I procured my papers as they were thrown off the train at the local depot. This particular day some traveling salesmen were there when the papers came who were anxious to get one of them without delay, so I stepped into the hotel office to open the bundle. I felt in my pocket for my knife to cut the wrapping, and not finding it, I sued the first thing I saw that I thought would serve the purpose, and that happened to be the pen lying upon Uncle Johnnie's desk. As I finished opening the bundle I glanced up and saw him glaring in my direction, one hand stroking his gray beard meditatively, his eyes darting fire, and in a voice that cut like a knife he shouted: "Young man, don't you ever let me see you do that again." You may be sure I never did it again with his pen; and even today if I happen to use a pen to open a letter or any similar missive I always thing of Uncle Johnnie and his warning.

The chief reason his church associations had not turned out as he had anticipated when he came to Lamoni was that he felt those who controlled the financial affairs of the church were especially inefficient in that line, and if there was one thing that irritated him it was what he considered the useless squandering of finances.

"I always paid my tithing," he would say - and I have heard him tell this story several time - "yes, I paid my tithing when times were hard and I did not have it to spare, only to see the bishop spend it for things which were unnecessary. And finally in desperation I said, "Lord, no more tithing. I am giving no more money to the church to see it squandered foolishly." And from that moment my financial affairs began to improve and I have prospered ever since.

When the conference of the LDS Church voted in Kirtland, Ohio, to close Graceland College, Uncle Johnnie was jubilant. "Have you heard what the conference decided?" he would inquire of the man on the street or in the shops. "They are going to close Graceland College and thus put an end to a lot of this squandering of the church's money. This act upon the part of the conference is wise and the fulfillment of prophecy."

Then, if inquiry was made concerning the source of such a prophecy, he would continue with an air of importance: "Yes, sir, on the day the college was dedicated I gave that prophecy. At that time I predicted that after a short period of activity the new college building would be deserted and finally become hidden to the world by a rank growth of weeds, brambles and underbrush; its walls would crumble and its roof would say; its study rooms become roosting places for owls and bats and its halls runways for rats and vermin."

This was similar to the picture of desolation mentally visioned for the future Graceland College by many people of that time. Uncle Johnnie McKim was not the only one who predicted such a dire ending for this project, so enthusiastically and so recently sponsored by the church and the community; and while he considered that such a prediction could come only through inspiration in the form of a prophecy, in truth, with many who were really acquainted with the hard facts, it was simply a matter of logical reasoning. The only difference between his and other such predictions was that he was probably a little more vigorous in presenting his views and a little more eloquent in their declaration. In my opinion the miracle which did take place, however, was not in the number or eloquence of the prophecies given, but in the fact that Graceland was successful in keeping her doors open, that . . . but this is quite another story.

While John McKim may have been somewhat eccentric in many of his views, on the whole he was probably as reasonable as the majority of us, and if the following story (one which was told quite generally and is probably authentic) can be relied upon, it proves that though he may have been positive in his views he did keep his mind open to conviction, and if the evidence was conclusive he could, like the proverbial female, change his mind as often and as quickly as the occasion demanded.

Upon this particular day Uncle Johnnie looked out of one of the east windows of his hotel and noticed a large cloud of black smoke which completely enveloped the livery barn across the street. He had never been a believer in fire insurance and had never invested in it, but with this indisputable evidence that the livery barn was on fire before him, he immediately realized the fallacy of his prejudices in this line, and in haste he dashed from the hotel and immediately sought the advice of one of the local insurance agents.

"I want to take out an insurance policy," he exclaimed as he breathlessly confronted the agent. "Insurance on the hotel, the livery bard and everything I own."

The agent was familiar with his previous attitude regarding insurance and was not a little amazed at the sudden change, and more or less curious at his impetuousness. After a little questioning he soon learned what Uncle Johnnie though was the true state of affairs and noting his apparent despair he was really concerned over the old gentleman's pathetic appeal for help.

At this point in the conversation a third party entered the insurance office, a man who had just passed the location of the supposed conflagration, and hearing enough of his conversation to acquaint him with the details, he sensed the situation immediately and hastened to explain:

"Your barn, is not afire, Mr. McKim," he said.

"Not afire!" shouted the old man, his face distorted with distress.

"It is all ablaze. I saw the smoke pouring from every door. Don't tell me it is not on fire."

"But it is not," assured the man, smiling in spite of the older man's seriousness. "Some workmen are repairing the roof on the one of the store buildings and they set up their kettle for melting the tar just behind your livery stable. It is the smoke from their fire and the boiling tar that you saw."

A trip to the spot was the only thing that could convince Uncle Johnnie of the truth of his story, and so all three of them hurried to the location and found it just as the newcomer had said. Uncle Johnnie admitted rather reluctantly that the joke was on him and started without further ceremony toward his hotel.

"What about that insurance," said the agent, attempting to detain him. "Now would be a good time to take care of it, and you may really need it sometime."

"Ho," snorted Uncle Johnnie indifferently, "my wife and I have carried the risk a long time and I guess we can take care of it from now on."

Yes, John McKim had his eccentricities. He was impulsive and he was critical, but to those who knew all about him he demonstrated many good qualities. He was sincere in his beliefs, and if he opposed a thing it was because that in his heart he felt it was not worthy of his support. With some individuals it seems only natural to differ with the majority, and many of his inclinations seemed to follow this tendency. In group development, however, this tendency in moderation is an asset rather that a liability, as it acts as an ingredient which tends to leaven the loaf. In memory we think of Uncle Johnnie and the many constructive things he did contribute, and we know he works entitle him to a place among those other pioneers to whom Lamoni owes her very existence, and a place in Lamoni's passing parade.

Transcription by Jean Belzer, March 9, 2002