Marked Tree, Arkansas, a little town in the eastern part of the state, was a small quiet place that rarely changed. And that was the problem for Johnny and Nellie Baker, and their eight children. In 1944, sharecropping didn’t allow for change; it was designed to maintain the status quo, especially for a black man in the South. So Baker, along with thousands of other blacks of that time, made the move to the land of opportunity. They headed north.

Fourteen-year-old Katherine watched from the back of the truck piled with furniture, household goods, and children as familiar sights receded into the distance. As if watching a motion picture in reverse—the small house where they had lived, her favorite teacher waving from her porch, the town store, her dad’s friends waving goodbye from the warehouse dock where her father used to sit with them at day’s end smoking, chewing, and talking, the fields of cotton—all trailed out of view.

Memories of working in those fields were easy to lose. They had a long ride ahead, but a new life beckoned from their destination—Benton Harbor, Michigan.

The next year the Lake Region Conference was organized, marking a first for the Seventh-day Adventist Church—a conference founded and run by black Americans. It was an unavoidable answer reflecting the reality of the world and the church. Before long, this less-than-ideal solution to human issues proved to have divine guidance, for the African-American Adventist church began tremendous growth.

The following year a retired minister set up a tent and began preaching in the Baker’s new town. The earnest, straightforward presentation of the Bible, and the friendliness of the students from a nearby college, made a strong impression on Nellie Baker and her children—especially Katherine, who was excited they had invited her to visit their school, Emmanuel Missionary College (EMC). She began to dream of going to college.

Across the state in Detroit was a graduate of Union College who was trained as a teacher. Although he had taught in different schools, including Harlem Academy in New York City, life had not led him in a straightforward path. Between wars, the Depression, and the general hard time a black man had trying to get ahead, Rothacker Smith often found himself working odd jobs in addition to temporary teaching and training positions. One constant was his local church work. Always a leader and innovator, he was very active serving his church as elder, teacher, choir leader, and youth worker.

Life seemed to finally come together when the new conference asked him to become a pastor. Although he had never been to the seminary, it seemed he had been training his whole life for this. He and his wife, Eleanor, were asked to pastor the new little congregation in Benton Harbor.

Their son, Reger, was honorably discharged from the Army in November, 1946. He had served his two years but had never been to the front lines of war, as had his two older brothers Nelson and Rock. Nelson had seen duty in France when it was liberated. Rock, the oldest, was in the thick of battle in Italy when his unit was captured and sent to a prisoner-of-war camp in Germany. It was nine months of hell and starvation before being liberated by the advancing allied forces.

Listed as missing in action and thinking Rock was dead, Rothacker and Eleanor were almost giddy when they received a telegram sharing the news he was alive. That’s how Reger found his parents at two in the morning when he came home on leave. The house lights were ablaze and they were so happy and talkative. Rock was alive!

Though Reger never saw that kind of action, he shared the honor of being a veteran. So when he returned to finish his schooling at EMC, it was with the attitude of someone who had been there, done that. Living life beyond the trivial, he was ready to get married, though the girls he had known in Detroit seemed too preoccupied with appearances and frivolity. He was looking for someone more serious.

It was great to see his dad pastoring this new little church not far from the college—a role for which he seemed born. The new church required a lot of ingenuity, experience, and resourcefulness—something his father had. The group met in the basement of the new church with the main floor serving as the roof. The church needed to be finished and a parsonage built. Rothacker soon had members with no previous experience driving nails, constructing stairs, laying shingles, and solving problems with his ingenious ideas.

One of Rothacker's ideas was to suggest that Reger consider a newly baptized young lady named Katherine, which he was happy to do.

Having become a fixture at the little church, this handsome young son of the pastor was treated well by the women of the church—especially Nellie Baker, who was quite impressed with his attentions to her daughter. Her daughter, however, being the serious type Reger was searching for, also had serious questions. Here was this young man from a college campus where there were many attractive, accomplished women, some of which were her friends. Why was he paying so much attention to a 17-year-old high school student who he said he was planning to marry? She intended to go to college. And she was serious!

Reger’s ingenious dad had recently added the small Berean Church in Battle Creek to his pastorate and suggested he consider another young lady there. One Sabbath, Reger’s real destiny came into focus. The Benton Harbor church had come en masse to join their sister church for Sabbath worship. Katherine came along as well. A young man invited her on a guided tour of historic Battle Creek. His sister was to join them in the car and bring whomever she liked. So Reger found himself in the back seat of a car with his newest acquaintance while watching Katherine soak up the attentions of this enterprising young man. That settled his mind for good. Reger sat with Katherine on the bus back to Benton Harbor. By the end of the evening, they were together again.

Reger’s first job out of college was to be the principal of a church school 175 miles away in Inkster, Michigan. To save money for marriage, he lived with the Fambro family. Katherine was in her first year of college, and regular trips to see her didn’t leave a lot of money for his savings account. As a church school teacher, there wasn’t much to start with.

He drove a Model A Ford, an ancient car even then. It was a car with character. It drank about three quarts of oil every 25 miles. The roof leaked. The headlights were so dim he had to stick his head out the side window to glimpse the line in the middle of the road. One could also view the road through the floorboards, but that wasn’t very helpful. The wipers only worked going downhill, and the steering wheel needed about a three-quarters turn before the car would change direction. Such were the challenges of love.

In June, the couple got married at a simple ceremony in the Lake Region Conference office. The entire staff showed up as witnesses that Sunday, with T.M. Fountain, president, officiating. Katherine wore a simple white dress and Reger wore a decent suit—at least he thinks it was.

After the short ceremony, they were off on the long trip back to Inkster with a stop in Benton Harbor to drop off Eleanor. It was raining, which necessitated the head-out-the-window posture on uphill climbs. With the leaky roof, it was not much better with the head in the car.

Arriving at their new temporary quarters at the Fambro house around three in the morning, they found the table set for a fancy dinner. Food was on the stove. Such was their honeymoon.

Merridith was born exactly nine months later, and they moved to Cass County, where Reger taught in the church school at Cassopolis. While working on his master’s degree in social work, he began working for the state. After a few years, they moved to Arizona where he worked for the the City of Phoenix and for the federal government on a reservation.

Andrews University eventually called Reger to help in their new social work department, which he eventually chaired. He soon developed a master’s level program for his alma mater.

Katherine finally achieved her college degree where she had started (now Andrews University), graduating the same day her son, Reger Jr., finished high school. She completed her career as a medical social worker at Benton Harbor’s Mercy Hospital and as an associate dean of women in the very dorm where she was a resident in 1950. She also made her mark as the first woman elder and head elder of Pioneer Memorial, the campus church, working as a team with Reger on the campus where they have lived since 1967.

Some might conclude they had come full circle, ending right where it all began. Reger and Katherine would tell you it's an ongoing journey, and it hasn’t ended at all.

Reger Smith Jr. is the Seventh-day Adventist World Church associate director for communication.