“But That’s Another Story…” by Margery Davis

Submitted May, 2023

A. Pre-Baha’i Spiritual Quest

It was 1970 and I was alone in New York City with not quite enough money for a bus ride home. I met some guys who took me to their place and gave me drugs that nearly killed me. I had a near death experience that told me to learn more about God and the angels. One day, I took back some of the money they owed me, got on a bus, and left for Trenton, NJ. I rented an apartment, with the money I had with me, and checked out a Bible from a library. That inspired me to investigate churches until I found one that I could believe in. I never found a church that believed in peace and accepted my reading about other religions, too. I looked for a job that I could walk to from home.

I found one with the Woods Schools for 5000 handicapped persons in Langhorne, PA and made friends with John McKinley, who was on disability from crushing his arm at a paper factory. During his recovery, antiwar demonstrations were happening in Washington, DC. John had been at Woodstock and loved music. He was an Army Vet; we attended demonstrations in the Spring of 1970. But that’s another story.

John and I moved to Philadelphia, where I encountered the Baha’i Faith for the first time. It was just a booth at a World Religion Day exhibit at a Mall. The participants were gone on break, but the sign, “Baha’u’llah: The Glory of God,” stuck in my psyche.

I wanted to get out of the city. We went west and John and I parted in Santa Fe. He was afraid of rednecks, and I fell in love with a Free School a few miles from town. I lived in a Tipi for 5 months. The kids were amazing. They inspired me to learn origami, which later became a significant part of my life.

 I investigated Hinduism at The Lama Foundation near Toas, where I joined a group of Sufi dancers. Through the school’s association with the Navajos, I was asked to attend Native American church services. These were amazing experiences, but that’s another story. One day a storm hit and lifted the back of the tipi over the poles, drenching everything I owned. I headed to town with my duffle bag, to an emergency shelter. I just needed a free washing machine, and they had one, but no dryer, just a clothesline. There was a Baha’i at the Shelter reading Gleanings From the Writings of Baha’u’llah to a drug sick person. I listened in while washing a room full of dirty dishes and waiting for my clothes to dry.

It was getting too cold for a tipi and I wanted a job. My Aunt sent a letter offering me a job with a family, where the mother of 5 kids was dying of a brain tumor, in Des Moines. After a Grateful Dead Concert, God sent me a car and 2 chauffeurs, named Bomba and Stoney, to take me home and I took the job.

B. Des Moines Declaration

In Des Moines with the words of Gleanings… on my mind, I called the Baha’i number from the phone book.  I attended a party at Kay Andreasen’s house. I was, totally, not dressed appropriately for this party! Kay was very warm and accepting. She invited me to Firesides in Mildred Sullivan’s basement and I started attending. Lee Baker gave me Baha’u’llah and the New Era to read and answered my insistent, rebellious questions. When I finished the book, I decided to give up on religions and go back to Santa Fe! That is when I had a vision of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, who showed me what my life would be like in Santa Fe and that I was copping out on my quest to educate my soul. I had to return the book and attended a meeting at Dick Laughead’s mother’s house, in Beaverdale. Lee Baker asked me, “Is there anything you disagree with?” I saw a picture of ‘Abdu’l-Baha and recognized the person in my vision. Then it hit me that I did not have any objections to the teachings of the Faith as I had with all the other Faiths I investigated. I said no, as I could not think of anything! I tried for about an hour as other people were talking and arriving and leaving. Lee asked if I was ready to declare what I believed. Of course, I had to stand up for what I believe, but would I always believe it? I ask what would happen if I found something I didn’t believe in. Could I quit? Would the Baha’is shun me? She said if I didn’t believe in the Faith I should quit, and why would that mean we would not still be friends? After all, we are friends now and we are not both Baha’i. So I declared with the understanding that if I found something in the Faith I could not believe in, I could quit. It has been over 50 years and I still believe. We had to go to Ruth Moffitt’s to get a declaration card. Ruth was an amazing woman but that is another story.

C. Chicago 

I stayed with the family I worked for in Des Moines until spring of 1971. My brother and parents were farming and ranching on our 996-acre farm, south of Indianola. My Dad was not in the best of health and knew little about farming. He was a Federal Probation and Parole Officer for the southern half of Iowa. My brother graduated from Iowa State in Agronomy and my mother, who was raised on a dairy farm, knew more about cows than anyone. I just helped on the farm where I could.

Then my Grandmother was hit by a car and killed, leaving me $500 to go to school on. I was thinking about being an Occupational Therapist. Mom encouraged me and I landed at the Thornton Community College in South Holland, Illinois. I met a young man that helped me find an apartment in exchange for driving him to his class downtown until he got his car fixed. I went to the Temple to find other Baha’is. A visitor told me about a couple in Chicago Heights that was advertising a Fireside and I went. There I met Roxane and Roger Cheney. We became close friends. They were the hub of Baha’i activities in that suburban area. For the next two years, I went to school getting an AA degree in Social Work, worked at Ingles Memorial Hospital (first in the kitchen and then as an EKG tech), dated and made friends, and did what I could to live a good Baha’i life.

Then one day my landlady, who lived downstairs, died. Because I was gone so much the house looked deserted, and the neighborhood kids started throwing rocks though my back porch windows. I called the Police and a huge cop showed up with an attitude. He was all muscle and stood more than a foot over me. I was standing on the top step of the porch and he stood on the ground at the bottom and I was still looking up at him. I told him the situation of going to school during the day, working 5 evenings a week, and doing an internship on weekends. The house looks empty much of the time. He asked me what I was going to do about it! He refused my invitation to come in and talk over tea.  He refused to help and suggested I move away, that I was the wrong sex and color to live in that neighborhood! He even threatened to go back to the Precinct and tell them if there is a call from this address to not respond. I could not believe a police officer was running me out of my home! I said, “I guess I am moving.” He said, “You got that straight.” He left and I started getting ready to leave Chicago.

Cheneys had a friend, Don Smith, I had been dating and he wanted to marry me. When I graduated, my parents met Don and my Dad was impressed with him. There were signs that Don was not a stable person, but friends encouraged the relationship. Don’s family liked me and gave us permission to marry. We married and left for Dad’s Iowa farm in December, 1974.

Marred Life

Shortly after Don and I moved to the farm, I learned that there were problems with Don’s Baha’i status and he had lost his voting rights. Don was encouraged to commit to his beliefs either to be a Baha’i or not. It was up to me to accept the marriage or not. I felt, with my parents’ help and love, we could survive. But Don was showing signs of mental illness. He would disappear for a week or two at a time. He wrecked the car about every 6 months. He made impractical plans and lost money. He could not work off the farm without a change in personality. On the farm, he was amazing. He impressed the farmers in the community by building us a house, working well with animals, and performing neighborly tasks. I kept quiet. My parents loved him but questioned some of his actions, too. Problems with the house Don built forced us to move into a rental house my Dad owned in Des Moines about the time I gave birth to my first son, Eli. Don couldn’t handle life in the city. We divorced in 1977.

D. Farm, Assembly

Right after the wedding, Don and I moved from Chicago into a mobile home on the farm and then an old shack, some Chicago Heights Baha’i friends wanted to move out of the city. My Dad was interested in selling lots on the farm. Roger and Roxane Cheney bought an acreage. They lived in my parents’ basement until their house was ready. We all helped each other with housing. Tom Stober and Clay Schiefelbein moved into my parents’ basement next. Clay married Gretchen (last name?) and moved into the mobile home until they found better housing. Then Dane Schaffer moved to the farm. Tom Stober married Pam (now Birdsong). Katrina and Archie Rawlins joined the Faith in Newton. They moved near Lacona, in Warren County. We formed an Assembly. Later, Marty (last name?) married Dane Schaffer.

We were all young, inspired Baha’is eager to have the American dream and willing to help each other. We were glad to have an Assembly but did not know how to be in an Assembly. Conflicting opinions and dominating personalities emerged. National sent Mrs. Khadem to council with us. In the end, members went different directions and the Warren County Assembly fell apart.

F. Des Moines

Eli and I were in Des Moines when Don left to be a Guru in India. I decided to get a BS degree in Human Services and Mom babysat.

The Baha’is elected me to the Des Moines Assembly. It was a time of hard growth and development within me. I was so fortunate to be with Ruth Moffett, Mildred Sullivan, Kay Andreesen, and Lee Baker. It was a hard time in their lives, too. May God bless the Des Moines Baha’is! Around that time, Ruth Moffett passed away, Mildred and her husband moved to a Retirement home and celebrated their 75^th wedding anniversary, Kay Andreesen moved to a nursing home in California, and Lee’s husband, Jim, moved home from the Veteran’s Home in Knoxville. The other local Baha’is had their problems, too. I learned to look for the good in people and guard against the bad.

I spent a summer in Lamoni, Iowa, working as a Fine Arts Activity director. Curtis Mickunas and Brad and Hannah Rishel lived in Lamoni at that time. But that’s another story.

I came back to Des Moines, graduated, and took a job as an Administrative Assistant at Drake University.  It was a grant position and ended. I did well and got administrative training. Then I got a job with Youth and Family Services in Indianola. I moved back to the farm in 1979, to the house Don built.

G. Farm Again

Clay and Gretchen and their 2 boys (Brenden and Pete) moved to Oklahoma. Tom and Pam moved to St. Marys. Dane and Marty married and moved to Oregon.  Archie and Katrina divorced and moved (Archie went to Newton and Katrina went to Des Moines with their daughters. Roger and Roxane divorced after their three-year-old daughter Jessica died.  Roxane went to Detroit with their other children. Roger married Peggy Schultz, who had two children, and moved to a new house on Dad’s farm. Tom and Pam Stober divorced; Pam moved to Indianola and Tom built another house on the farm. Life goes on.

I was working for Youth and Family Services when I married Emil Segebart in May, 1981. He worked for my brother driving a truck, at first. We farmed with Dad and Mom. I had Benjamin in 1982 and Josiah in 1983. We moved across the road to another farm and rented out the house Don built.  

I wanted to stay home with my kids so I proposed to Emil to become as close to self-sufficient as I could, and I did. Emil’s attitude toward the Baha’i Faith and my family soured. He told me not to associate with Baha’is. I talked to the Des Moines Assembly and they told me to obey him. For years, I was out of touch with Baha’is other than Roger and Peggy, who were friends of Emil’s as well. Emil and I wanted the kids to have a religious background, so I took them to several churches that Emil chose. I got a good Christian education at this time. I read the Bible again and attended Christian Bible Classes and Sunday School. It just confirmed what the Baha’i Faith believes. I never gave up believing in Baha’u’llah. I did try, briefly, to believe what Emil wanted, that Baha’u’llah was just a crazy guy. Nothing made sense without Baha’u’llah and He is our greatest hope for world peace!

Emil went through many changes. He went to Power Lineman School in Northern Iowa and worked for the Indianola Municipal Utility. He became a John Bircher and started getting into conspiracy theories. He joined the National Guard. He taught the kids to run farm equipment and do his chores. Then he shattered his ankle in a work accident. The more he was away from the farm the more unhappy he was with our life. When he was home with the broken ankle, we got along fine.

Along the way I learned wonderful stories and an origami story that came to me in dreams. I was happy working with nature and kids, and I started drawing portraits. My Dad and Emil decided that I did not make enough money drawing portraits and insisted I go back to Drake for a teaching certificate to teach Art. Dad was struggling with various things and I hated school. I took 20 hours of graduate studies in 2 semesters and seemed to pray constantly. Emil grew increasingly unhappy with our relationship. We went to counseling, which did not go well. I graduated, but due to a mix-up related to my teaching credentials, I was unable to find a full-time Art teacher position. I did substitute teaching, which was enough for me with the farm, kids, clog dancing, nature study, portraits, and storytelling. God was helping me share stories with school kids.

Subbing does not bring in money in the summer, so I got a job with Mainstream Living in Des Moines, being a caretaker at a house for mentally challenged persons. Emil liked the National Guard and was visiting an Army buddy. Life was better, so I thought.

One night, in the fall of 1994, after a fight with Emil, I had my recurring dream. Over the years, I would dream of a house that looked fine to everyone but there was always something missing–a wall, a floor, empty cabinets…. This time, it was a mobile home, the plumbing was bad, and I was trying to fix it. Emil came to the bathroom door and told me I had visitors. I stepped into the narrow hallway and it was full of people. I signaled to them to follow me back to a bedroom for more room. The bedroom turned into a huge ballroom or lecture hall. A mass of people, with holy books in their hands, followed me and I asked, why are you here? There was a roar of voices I could not understand. I asked if one would answer my question.  A very tall, thin man took me a wall of French doors leading to a beautiful garden. He opened a door and said it was all mine. On the far side of the garden was a sidewalk café. I was sitting at a table for 2 with another lady. I asked the man, what does this mean? He had a Bible in his hand. He gave me a Scripture passage and I woke up. I got up and looked the passage up. I can no longer remember the passage. What it said, to me, was that there are people of war, and they must do their duty. There are people of peace, and they must do their duty. I was to go with the people of peace.

Emil came from downstairs and asked what I was doing. I told him about the dream and read him the passage. He asked if we were getting divorced. We had never mentioned divorce before. I said I did not know. He said this is how we are going to divide up the property and what we will do with the kids! I knew it was over. He did not wait on a year of patience. His Army buddy was Debra. It was 1995. They married and it lasted over 20 years ending with Emil’s death. Emil died of a heart attack in the summer of 2021 and was buried in the Hewitt Cemetery.

H. Peace Work

Eli went to live with my mom and dad and graduated from High School in 1995. Ben stayed with Emil. Joe came with me to an apartment in Indianola. I realized I could not do overnights with Mainstream Living and take care of Joe. I started sub teaching again and cleaned the Fair View Apartment buildings where we lived, as a housekeeper part-time.

I saw an ad in the American Baha’i asking for volunteers to join a Peace Caravan sponsored by World Citizen Diplomats. My dream told me to go with the people of peace, so I answered the ad. They wanted people who were musical. I tried to interest some Baha’i friends and they dismissed the opportunity. I sent in an origami bird and told them there was a story with it. They were interested and also needed help finding lodging for the World Peace Caravan. I started contacting Baha’i Local Assemblies on the route across the U.S. for them.

Then Dad started having little strokes because of a heart condition, and Mom needed my help. Joe and I moved in with my parents. Darlene Evens called me. She had answered the World Citizen Diplomat’s ad, also. She had been taking care of her mother, who had just died, and she needed another place to stay. She moved in and became part of the family. Mom took the late-night shift for some alone time with Dad, Darlene took the morning shift to pray and sing to Dad, who loved it. I took the evening shift after sub teaching. I still had Don’s house rented for some income. Eli got a good job at Mainstream Living and moved out. Joe moved into the basement.

A letter came from World Citizen Diplomats. The Assistant Secretary General of the United Nations was retiring and had established a University of Peace in Costa Rica. He wanted to form a steering committee that would come up with peace activities for the year 2000. I thought Darlene should go because Dad was so sick. Darlene thought I should go. Dad found out and insisted I should go. I did not have the funds and I would not forgive myself if something happened to Dad while I was gone, so the issue was dropped. I am sure Darlene and Dad started a prayer vigil. Within the week, I had a student tell me she wanted to do a geriatric study and ask if she could take care of my Dad for a week or two. Then another student asked me how much I wanted for the ¾ ton pick-up in my parent’s yard.

I could help the girl with the geriatric study and easily give her my shift if I was here or away. But the truck did not start. We had it towed to the yard after an engine fire. If it ran it was worth over $2,000 but it had been sitting over a year in the yard. I told the student the story; I didn’t want to rip him off. He was miffed. “My Dad wants that truck and can get any vehicle to start! How much do you want for the truck?” I knew the plane ticket to Costa Rica was $750. So I told him, if his father could start the truck, I would need $750. That night at around 9 pm the student and his father showed up at the door. It was 4 degrees F outside. The man came to the door with a flashlight and said he came for the truck. Again, I said the truck didn’t start. The man gave me the eye and said he could make any vehicle start. Could he look at the truck? Before I could sit down, I heard that truck roar! My Dad’s face was beaming and the man was back at the door with $750 cash. I asked how he made it start. He said an engine needs two things to run–gas and air. It has gas, so he checked the air intake. He found a wasp’s nest under the carburetor flap. He flipped it out and the truck started. I was going to Costa Rica! Praise to the power of prayer and the will of God!

So in April, 1996, I went to the University of Peace in Costa Rica, to Join a steering committee to come up with peace activities for the world starting January 1, 2000. There were 12 men and 12 women from all faiths, races, and cultural back grounds. The former President of Costa Rica and Robert Muller, former Secretary General to the United Nations, hosted the meeting. We planned five days of work. We did it in four.

The first day was introductions. That steering committee was so talented and accomplished! I asked Dr. Muller why he accepted me. He said because you are a Baha’i, and to say a prayer for all of us at every session, which I did. I also told my origami peace story, that I called “Heart Tugs.” Now, it is called “Humanity’s Wings.” (NOTE: Check out the “Arts…” page under the “Activities” tab on this site for a beautiful animated video of Margey telling this story.) The second day, we brainstormed ideas that we put on the board and then grouped them. We eliminated the ones that were off the mark.

Dr. Muller told us that terrorism was easy to stop, if we are willing to work against the three things that terrorist need:

1. A group of people that have been mistreated. To counter that we should work for the equality of all people.

2. A place to organize and train in secret. We must make known the secret places and make public the plans.

3. Supplies to arm, support, and feed the terrorists. We must keep track of arms and elements of destruction, or eliminate them.

If you can eliminate any one of the terrorists needs, terrorism ceases to exit. I think this is important to know. There needs to be public discussion of this.

The third day, we fleshed out our plans. We established a website for World Peace 2000 to encourage the world to give and get ideas to celebrate peace. We would invite every country to send a youth ambassador to the United Nations for a mock UN Assembly. One man was a conductor of “The Mass,” a combination of composing music, musicians, dancers, singers, choreographers, and set designers, whom he assembled by calling for local talent to pull together a show based on peace. He chose Boston, I think. Another man owned a television station in Montreal. He could set up a broadcasting crew at every longitude around the globe and broadcast a peace activity at that longitude–that is, every hour for 24 hours. He did this. When they got to Haifa, there were Israelis and Palestinians dancing together on the terraces at the Shrine of the Bab!

The fourth day, we turned the plan over to the secretaries. Dr. Muller took us on a walk up the mountain to a Peace Park made for the former President, who disbanded the Costa Rican Army. Farther up, we were shown a stream with holes in the bedrock that made reservoirs for the Natives when the Spanish came. There was a lookout rock and on a clear day you could see an ocean. Yet farther up, we came to Dr. Muller’s house and prayer stands. He had several stands for different types of prayer: a stand for world peace, one for health, one for understanding. His house was one room with a bed, a sink, a stove, a table, and a wall full of photographs. There was a porch, a few chairs, an outhouse, and his pet turkey that liked to perch on the roof. He gave us watermelon. When I went in to wash my sticky hands, I saw a picture of a very old Native lady in his house. I asked about her. She came to tell him about the legends of the mountain. We were all ears. She had been born in Dr. Muller’s house years before and died just after that visit.

Here is a story she told Dr. Muller: Long ago before the Spanish came, there was a holy man that came to a village at the base of the mountain. This village and others were at war with each other. The holy man came to teach them peace, but they would not listen to him. One day, the holy man took the children up the mountain during a dense fog. The Villagers could not find the children. The holy man took the children above the fog and told them that God was going to send people to humble their people until the end time. Then people will come to this mountain and will teach peace to the world. We all understood this prophecy was being fulfilled. I asked Dr. Muller if she gave the name of the holy man and when he said yes, Hiawaitha. I nearly fell off the porch! I asked if he knew who Hiawaitha was. No one had heard of him. I told them the story of Degonowida and his apostle Hiawaitha. Ruth Moffit had told me the story. She made sure the name was Hiawaitha, not Hiawatha.

I went home and Dad was so proud. The Committee met again in New Jersey for the Peace Caravan across the US. I took my son Joe to see the country. But that’s another story.

In late summer, World Peace 2000 presented our plans to the ambassadors at the UN. I told my “Heart Tugs” story. Before we left, we divided the ambassadors into groups according to their part of the world. I was to host southeast Asia. With some effort the Ambassador of Japan apologized to the ambassador of the Philippines for the destruction of their country during WWII. I have never felt so needed! Then home to family, substitute teaching, and the farm.

I. Rosebud

Dad passed away, happy and content, in 1997. Darlene found an apartment and a job next door to each other. I went back to the farm and the house that Don built. I married Doug Sudbrock in 1998. Joe moved back with Mom. I thought Doug and I could farm but that was a mistake. Doug took several jobs that caused us to travel. One was in South Dakota near the Rosebud Reservation. He got a job on the O’Neal Ranch that was 2 miles from the Rosebud Reservation, but it took 20-30 minutes to get to the Rosebud settlement. We were 32 miles to Mission and 30 miles to Marten, South Dakota, far from civilization. I sold 160 acres and bought a trailer house for us to live in.

I got a job, just after 9/11, with Winner Health Department and did home care. Of my 19 clients, 18 were elders in the Sioux Tribe. I have so many stories in the six months I worked with them! I helped establish a Local Spiritual Assembly in Martin and an Assembly was elected in Parmelee. I was not eligible to serve on these Assemblies because I was in Bennet County.

J. Kansas

We left South Dakota after six months, before I could help get the Parmelee Assembly to function. We moved, trailer and all, to Homer, KS. The Joplin, Missouri Baha’is were so friendly and active and started Ruhi classes. Then, I got word that Mom needed help. Doug agreed to go, and we moved the trailer onto the farm’s remaining 513 acres. Doug worked in construction.

J. Living History Farms

Before leaving for South Dakota, I’d had a job at Living History Farms in Des Moines. I got that job back and worked for 6 years at the 1700 Indian Site Farm, then at the Henry A. Wallace Exhibit Center for 3 years. I loved working at Living History Farms, especially at the Exhibit Center where I was in charge and free to make programs and exhibits. In the winter I went to schools and presented a program on either 1850 Pioneers or 1700 Iowa Indians. Some years, I worked retail when schools were closed. Other times I worked at the Iowa State Historical Museum. I learned so much. The first thing I did, every day, was thank God for my Living History Farms job.

K. Indianola

I worked until 2009, when Mom’s dementia worsened and the Living History Farms administration changed. Doug and I moved in with Mom. She improved. I rented out the trailer, sub taught again, and worked on call at the Historical Museum.

Darlene Evans died of a stroke in 2006. She made me executor of her estate. She wanted a Persian funeral and she got one. Tareneh Prosser taught me; God bless he!. Darlene is buried in the Hewitt Cemetery on the farm, 100^th Ave, Indianola. It is a great place to visit. On her grave is this quote from her: “It is more important to be kind than to be more important.”

I went on a Pilgrimage in the spring of 2011. Mom got very sick that fall. She passed on Nov 21, 2011.  My brother and I rented out the farm. Doug and I cleaned up the house and moved back to the farm. I tried renting Mom’s house but that did not work. Doug struggled with a variety of health problems and our marriage suffered. I started a year of patience in 2014. A year and a half of counseling later, we divorced.

I lived with my son Eli for a year, then moved into Mom’s house. I worked to renovate it and took in renters, which didn’t work out. Finally we sold the farm and Mom’s house. The little house I bought is perfect for me. I have a studio and I am 2 blocks from grandkids. My son Ben mows my lawn and blows deep snow.

I thank God every day and pray with the Long Healing Prayer group. At their suggestion, I made a bus stop with an old picnic table and put multi-cultural prayers on it. I wanted to give Indianola a safe place to dance and meet each other, so I host community dances at the First United Methodist Church Parrish Hall once a month. It is working. I find opportunities to paint and use my origami and storytelling in service, including my work as an ambassador for CultureAll. The next project is a front yard Library. God is Good!