This is my two hundred and eleventh monthly teaching letter and continues my eighteenth year of publication. In the last letter, WTL #210, I explained how I finally finished remodeling what was before a garage with a 20 x 20 foot recreation room attached to the garage for my barber business. By the time that I finally got into this newly remodeled building, the long hair of the 1960s was already having a negative effect on the barber trade.

When I originally opened my barber business in Fostoria, Ohio in 1954, I named my establishment, “Emahiser’s Barber Shop”, and worked under that name until about 1965. Of course, I advertised my barber service by this same name. Somehow I had obtained a copy of the Toledo, Ohio telephone book, and glancing through the yellow pages, I noticed that several TV antenna services were adjusting the names of their businesses to be the very first name in both the yellow and white pages. Generally, at that time, the barber business was gradually slowing down, and getting slower, so I theorized that if I could change the name of my business in the Fostoria, Ohio telephone book, my business would be listed first in both the white and yellow pages under “Barbers”. For many years the AAA (American Automobile Association) held that position. I eventually renamed my barber shop “A-1 Barber Service”. To make sure this would be the way my business would be listed, I called the Ohio Bell Telephone business office, and they assured me that my new DBA would place me first, both in the white pages and yellow pages, under “Barbers” in the Fostoria telephone book. People really are not aware of it, but habitually they will pick the first listed business for a service.

Also in WTL #210 I explained ... that the biggest financial break I got was when I was able to sell a portion of my large lot where my barbershop was located on Countyline street (while keeping the portion I needed for my business) to the Marathon Oil Company, for a filling station ... Anyway, according to my records, I paid off all of my debt to the Citizens Savings and Loan Association, Tiffin, Ohio, by March of 1971. With this lesson, I will give the reader a general church affiliation overview of my wife and I, which is quite varied:

This is my two hundred and ninth monthly teaching letter and continues my eighteenth year of publication. In the last letter, WTL #208, I was explaining how it took me two years in my own barber business to get well enough established in Fostoria, Ohio to start living comfortably. During these same two years I actually sacrificed about one year in lost income, in comparison to what I would have earned at the Hotel Barber Shop in Bowling Green, Ohio for that period.

By 1956 between my wife’s income from working in the office at the Seneca Wire Mill Company, along with my receipts from barbering, we were doing well enough that we were starting to consider building ourselves a house, but we weren’t doing well enough financially to buy a house already built. So our only other alternative was to buy a lot and build a house, portion by portion, as we could afford it. Again, we were working on a shoestring, so to speak. We started by purchasing a lot in an area that others, at the time, wouldn’t consider, but we took a chance that in the future the area would be built up with new homes, and that is what happened. So we paid $100 down on a lot, and $25 a month until it was paid for. We then found out if the lot was paid for, we could get a ready-cut house for 10% down, and Sterling Homes would finance and send most of what we needed, except for the foundation, plumbing, wiring, and concrete. We got up the 10%, and we were on our way, but I had to build the house myself.

That meant that I had to rearrange my hours at my barber business to gain the time I needed to build our house, and I had to gamble that my business wouldn’t suffer all that much. I was in the barber’s union at that time, and all the other union barbers in town were working from 8.00 A.M. until 6.00 P.M. five days a week, plus Wednesday from 8.00 A.M. until 12.00 noon. Before this time I had chosen to close to all day on Wednesday, making it a five day week for me. I found out by closing all day Wednesday, the greater part of the usual Wednesday customers would show up on Thursday. So I decided to start opening up four full days a week, being closed all day on Monday and all day Wednesday. It worked as I had gambled it would, as the greater part of the usual Monday customers showed up on Tuesday.

This is my two hundred and seventh monthly teaching letter and continues my eighteenth year of publication. In the last lesson, WTL #206, I explained how I contracted scarlet fever, and when I went to sickbay they couldn’t diagnose it. I will repeat here what I said in WTL #205: By this time I was becoming quite desperate, and decided to return to sickbay a fourth time. I began to realize that I was running a much higher temperature than they were getting at sickbay, as walking a third of a mile in zero degree weather was dropping my body temperature. This time, while walking to sickbay, I made up my mind I was going to watch every move they made, to see if I could get some attention. After entering sickbay once more, I had to get into that same line leading to some male medical assistants, where they would check some of the basic bodily functions. This time I noticed they were giving some of the men going through the line a slip of paper, and those men would in turn then go to another line and would be seen by a fullfledged doctor; so after I was given another light duty bunk exemption, I went over to the doctor’s line, and I had to stand in that line quite some time. I was the last one in line, so when I finally got to a doctor, I told him, ‘I don’t have a slip to see you, but I am sick!’ Right away he asked me to expose my stomach, and he replied, “You have scarlet fever! Go over here in this side room where there is a couch, and you may lie down and rest until the ambulance arrives to take you to the main hospital”! I didn’t realize it at the time, but I would spend seven weeks at that hospital, and it would become yet another major turning point in my life.

What I omitted to tell my readers is why my stay at the Naval hospital turned out to be seven weeks, which I will now proceed to tell:

Since I was sick with the scarlet fever for several days in my barracks, and then treated for three weeks at the Great Lakes Naval hospital, plus another four weeks due to a relapse, my suffering from catching scarlet fever would total about eight weeks in all in order to return to my company fully cured.

This is my two hundred and fifth monthly teaching letter and starts my eighteenth year of publication. This will be the third in a series explaining how key experiences in my life would eventually lead me to my Christian Israel Identity ministry.

I explained in WTL #204 how in junior high, I got acquainted with a classmate who was much like myself and introduced me to how a radio tube worked and showed me how to read radio circuit diagrams, which immediately spurred my interest into becoming a shortwave radio operator, which I soon learned I couldn’t afford. Radio repair also crossed my mind. In the late 30s and early 40s there were neither television nor high fidelity FM (with or without stereo)! All we had were the AM radio band and several shortwave bands broadcasting voice or the International Morse code. If we wanted to listen to recorded music, all we had was a 78 RPM record player with a windup motor. Even then, there were large phonograph record stores which specialized in jungle-jazz, and the latest songs on the hit parade, starring blacks and Edomite-jews from Broadway in New York or Hollywood. Like all the other forms of the media, the phonograph record business was controlled by these same people.

What I did find that I could afford, was to build a homemade crystal set. At last I had everything ready to give it a try. After a few pokes, a radio station came in loud and clear. Now I could listen to my favorite country and western music (along with a limited amount of classical, and some of the better religious hymns). I also dearly love Irish music! I was tired of listening to jungle jazz and the hit parade where they would slur nearly every word and note of a so-called song from beginning to the end.

This is my two hundred and third monthly teaching letter and continues my seventeenth year of publication. Since WTL #137, I have been continuing a series entitled The Greatest Love Story Ever Told, and have been expanding on its seven stages ever since: (1) the courtship, (2) the marriage, (3) the honeymoon, (4) the estrangement, (5) the divorce, (6) the reconciliation, and (7) the remarriage.

At this juncture, I have decided to discontinue this series, The Greatest Love Story Ever Told, and give the reader some of the background of my personal life instead, as “the marriage supper of the Lamb” (Rev. 19:9) might lead to a lot of unnecessary conjecture.

It is my desire here to witness to how my eyes became opened to the message of Christian Israelite Identity. Since learning that my origins are from Abraham, Isaac, Jacob (renamed Israel), and predominantly of the tribe of Judah, I came to the realization that I was born blind to my inheritance, and now find myself in a community of several White Israelite nations who are likewise blind to their Christian Israelite Identity. I have become aware that when any White mixes their genetics with a nonwhite alien, the half-breed child from that union is the unforgivable sin, and must be severed from the pure White members of that family! (See, e.g., Ezra 9 and 10 and Neh. 10.)

My first memories are when I was about three years old. As I was born in 1927, the Great Depression of 1929 was under way for about a year. What I have been told by the various members of my family is that my father had a good job at the Union Carbide Company in Fostoria, Ohio, and had he not quit that job, after being encouraged by my grandfather Keiser to be hired out to a contractor building houses, my father would have had at least a three-day-a-week job with the Union Carbide Company during the Depression. As it was, my father had to work at some not-so-pleasant, low-paid tasks whenever or however he might find one, as the construction business had gone to hell.