"We Choose Christ" .

Texans wore straw sombreros, Kansans paper sunflower hats, Marylanders yellow and black capes, Californians sailor suits. And because Philadelphia was host last week to the 35th International Christian Endeavor convention, certain youthful Pennsylvanians wore Liberty Bell contraptions labeled, HELLO I'M GLAD TO SEE YOU. At Convention Hall 12,000 young people, aged from 16 to 27, paid $2 registration fees. Claiming thaT 40,000 attended some sessions, officials inaccurately called it "the largest youth gathering in the history of North America." Apparently they had forgotten that in 1895 a rousing Christian Endeavor convention in Boston drew 56,425 delegates.

Christian Endeavor is 54 years old. It now has 4,000,000 members throughout the world, representing 90 Protestant sects. If cinema and radio have cut into its oldtime following, it nevertheless still commands the loyalty of a sizeable slice of U. S. youth. Christian Endeavorers attend weekly devotional and inspirational meetings, do welfare work such as packing bags for soldiers & sailors at Christmas. Philadelphia barkeepers misjudged Christian Endeavor from the beginning last week when they put out placards WELCOME C.E. Many a C.E. delegate walked by such bars wearing a pasteboard badge, WE DRINK MILK. NOT BEER. And Convention Hall janitors had precious few cigaret butts to sweep up after meetings.

Slogan of the convention was "We Choose Christ." This conviction caused 27-year-old Clyde Grubbs, Texas evangelist, to work his way on a caboose to Toledo, then hitchhike to Philadelphia. Jack Grosvenor, 19, bummed rides from Council Bluffs, Iowa, was robbed of his last $10 in Pennsylvania, pushed on penniless. A boy from Buffalo pedaled wearily to Philadelphia on a bicycle, arriving three days late. Most delegates from out-of-town arrived by automobile, were put up by local Christian Endeavorers. They arose at 7 a. m., gathered in Convention Hall for an early "Quiet Hour" of Scriptural reading. Eager and uncritical, they absorbed thin-spread ideas from speakers on marriage, peace, evangelism, social justice, politics. They yielded to the energetic, well-scrubbed personality of Christian Endeavor's world president, Dr. Daniel Alfred ("Dan") Poling. They marched in a great parade to show how they felt about peace. And they sang lustily, often under the leadership of unctuous, trombone-playing Homer Alvan Rodeheaver. Beforehand, C. E.'s Vice President William Hiram Foulkes had written in The Presbyterian: "These Endeavorers are a colorful, cheerful crowd. They march with badges and banners and with singing hearts. If any one is inclined to chide them because at times they appear a bit too noisy, let him remember that it is a 'joyful noise' that they are making, and that they are making it 'unto the Lord.' "

No C.E. convention would be complete without "Mother" Clark, 85, widow of Founder Francis E. Clark who died in 1927. Never having missed one, this frail old lady left her Massachusetts home last week, traveled to Philadelphia alone by train. When Mother Clark mounted the Convention Hall platform, thousands of young Christian Endeavorers burst into her favorite hymn, All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name. She made a five-minute speech. Later C.E. gave her a banquet. To newshawks bright-eyed Mother Clark said: "The younger generation is not so black as it is painted. Some of them may seem wild to my old-fashioned ideas but I think at heart they are the same genuine young people who are always on the earth. This convention shows there are still a few young people interested in religion."

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