"T R I B U T E S"

"In the fear of the Lord is strong confidence: and His children shall have a place of refuge." – Proverbs 14:26

The sting of death is not so much for those who are called to leave this life as for those who remain on earth to face the aching void. Many a strong man has faltered beneath the helplessness of loved ones who have gone on into eternity. That is indeed a time for realizing the God of all Comfort and taking Him at His word. Winifred Hockman was a true helpmeet for her hero-husband – meet for him in spirit, in work and in bravery. With her newborn daughter, she faced life intent, by God’s grace, to be both father and mother to the child. Bearing the Egyptian postmark, letters of constrained cheerfulness and solicitude for others showed that the little mother was resting in the peace of her Savior who "doeth all things well." Her cable to the bereaved loved ones in America was Philippians 4:7: "And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep our hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."

"Both of us," Winnie writes, "felt that God led Bob into His great work, and who knows but that more can be brought to God through his death than in his life; if that is true, it is all right. Yesterday was our Bob’s first Christmas in heaven and little Ruth’s first Christmas on earth. We don’t question why God didn’t answer our prayers, as we saw it, for Bob’s safety, but He knows best. His being there makes heaven seem so much nearer. His sacrifice was a great one, yet not too great for our Master’s sake. I feel that by death Bob is giving his familiar message that he always gave when he preached, ‘we never know when we shall be called into the presence of our Lord."

As war continued in Africa, Winnie returned to America to stay with Bob’s parents until God opened new plans for her life. There her time was full with studies and meetings where she told the story of the need for the Gospel in Ethiopia. Always cheerful, helpful and true, God has a definite place for this servant of His in His vineyard, and wherever it may be that place will be enriched by her presence.

Never before did the Hockman family realize how far-reaching was the ministry and influence for the Lord that Bob had. Memorial services were held all over the country. Kind letters and telegrams poured into the bereaved parents offering sympathy and regret. Emperor Haile Selassie sent the following cablegram: "There is no word by which we can express the depths of our sorrow on the loss of your dear son. Please accept our deepest sympathy."

The Alma Mater that Bob so loved paid him great homage in a memorial service conducted during a chapel period of the entire school by Dr. J. McCreary, a professor who knew Bob and loved both him and his wife. We include here the address given on that occasion:

"Many of us perhaps do not realize the great importance of this occasion. We are met to do honor to a great man. Almost every year some chapel service is dedicated to the memory of some well-known man or woman who has lived a long and useful life and has achieved much in a chosen field. Today we are honoring the memory of a young man, cut off in the very height of usefulness. We are particularly honored to be able to walk the same campus that he was so proud to call his; to feel that he was our friend; to strive to carry forward the ideals of an institution which he helped to make better. We are in a royal assemblage. Only a few days ago official representatives of many of our greatest nations bowed humbly at his grave and were also proud to call him their friend. He mingled with royalty and was not thereby made proud. He loved the poorest and filthiest child of the slums of Chicago or of the humblest Ethiopian village, and if pride entered his life at all it was in the knowledge that these poor ones loved him.

"His outstanding characteristics were loyalty and enthusiasm. He attended Muskingum during the post-war period when many of us felt a sense of disillusionment and it was popular to sneer at loyalty. Bob Hockman was loyal to his friends, to his College, to his Church and to his Christ. Nor was he ashamed to be enthusiastic in his loyalties. He was ready to speak and to work for any of these in whatever company he might be placed. Wherever he was, he ‘was not ashamed of the gospel of Christ’; he was ever ready to give the ‘reasons for the faith that was in him.’

His loyalty and enthusiasm drove him to do things that to some people seem very strange and foolish. He was probably the best trained and one of the most efficient men of his graduation year, in the state of Illinois His record at that time bears me out, but you may be sure that many of his friends thought him crazy to enter the field of service to which he felt both drawn and driven. Today the thoughts of the entire world are centered upon that little country, Ethiopia. It is a glamorous country now and adventurous souls from all over the world are trying to get there. Bob was always an adventurous soul, and when he decided that Ethiopia was the place for him to spend his life, he had no thought that in a short time he would be sending messages to Prime Ministers and to the League of Nations and that his name would be familiar to people in all civilized countries. He as seeking a much higher adventure and even to the last days of his life that motive was never lost sight of. I quote from the last letter we received from him:

"‘This is September 22. I plan to get away (from Addis Ababa where he was stationed) on the twenty-seventh to try to reach some of the soldiers who are dying with fever and starvation, before the conflict actually begins. We will be taking many loads of scriptures and plan to make the trip staying out on the plains, something more than a Red Cross organization. We hope to reach the souls of many with the gospel before it is too late.‘

"To Bob the war was to be used as an evangelizing medium. He loved the Ethiopian, he loved his Christ, and when the war started he obviously felt that the best and surest way to get Christ to the Ethiopian was through his manifestations of that love for both, down on the terribly hot plains, in the literal heat of the battle. Again I quote from his letter:

"’The prayers of all of you will be appreciated. I want this to be a missionary enterprise and the Lord will use us, I feel sure. We are hoping and praying that war will not come. However, should it come, we will be down at the spot where we feel the demand will be the greatest.’

"The glamour, the publicity, the fame, the thrill, the romance of the great adventure were farthest from his mind. His mind was to do the will of Christ and accomplish His work. As he said in a letter to his Board of Foreign Missions, ‘I am right where God wants me to be.’

"Those of us who knew Dr. Bob Hockman when he was a student in Muskingum have many happy memories of his life here. Some of us may recall hearing, on many a Sabbath evening, the beautiful tones of a trumpet from the Montgomery Boulevard side of town playing the first line of a beloved old hymn, the clear, mellow tones echoing across the stadium to Dormitory hill. The second measure came as a reply from a trumpet over by the dormitory; the third was played from our side of the hollow and the fourth again replying from across the stadium and lake. The trumpeter from our side was Bob Hockman, communicating his feelings in that manner to his friend. (I think it was Bob Nesbitt.) In our first letter from him in Ethiopia he told that he had his trumpet along and that he was organizing a brass band, hoping thereby to reach many boys whom he otherwise could not influence. And influence them he did, for when the time came for him to go to the front these boys were ready to face death with him. In his letter he says: ‘The boys of the brass quartette have volunteered (no, they were not drafted) to go with me and so we will take our trumpets to add music to the hot plains, for hot it surely is down there.’ Obviously he had been able in those two short years of his life there to instill some of his own loyalty and enthusiasm into those Ethiopian friends.

"Bob had the makings of a great surgeon. He had professional friends in America who would have given him every legitimate aid in reaching the top of his profession. That he was a "fool" -- as some interpret that work – is surely true. But he was glad to be called "a fool", for he knew that those who so called him did not understand. Men who die carrying out an ideal are, usually, called fools. But Bob Hockman was a fool for Christ’s sake, and rejoicing to be one. He tried vainly to make his misunderstanding friends comprehend his burning zeal for his great ideal. They, in turn, could not bring themselves to do so. Yet he continued to love his friends despite their divergent opinion.

"Those who knew him and his lovely wife, when they were at the New Wilmington Missionary Conference two years ago last August, will remember how their determination to get out to his field of service, although, virtually, it seemed impossible at the time, dominated the last night of the conference. Both spoke with absolute certainty that they had been definitely called of God to go to Ethiopia, and that they had determined to go. Within a few days after their remarkable declaration of faith, the last barriers were removed, and they sailed a few weeks later.

"Bob is gone now. One of the strongest men, physically, mentally and spiritually ever to graduate from Muskingum has gone to an eternal, and abundantly rich reward. Did he waste or throw away his life? Certainly none who knew him believe that he did. His enthusiasm, backed by the physical strength to accomplish it, enabled him to live more intensely during his comparatively short life, than most people have, or will, in a life-span three times the length of his. He had planned to spend many years in Ethiopia; but from the time he finished his medical course until he was taken home, was just three years. He would be too humble to think of it himself, and it is without the faintest thought of irreverence that I mention it, but Bob’s term of active service is about the length of that of his Lord’s active earthly ministry. In those brief three years he won the love of literally thousands of people. I have referred to the high government officials who were present at his funeral; but for every one of these there were thousands of humble dark-skinned friends who shed copious tears over his passing in hundreds of little huts throughout that part of Ethiopia. Were Bob here today, he would tell you that he would not trade that love for the opportunity of being the president of the American Medical Association or the most famous surgeon in the Western hemisphere.

"Were a memorial to be erected to this distinguished alumnus of Muskingum College, what, think you, would be most befitting? It is not difficult to know what he and his dear wife would wish. They would ask but two things: They would desire every student to live up to the ideals which his College was founded to promote. We all know those ideals, but are prone to neglect following them. The other memorial which would most appeal to Bob and Winifred Hockman would be that a number of its students follow in their steps. They would tell you that no other work holds such joy or yields such compensations. They would say that though they had sorrow, they also had abounding joy in service. If, through his death, three or four, or ten or twelve students of his College were inspired to take his place, not of course in the Italo-Ethiopian war, but in the war against sin and disease in the foreign mission fields of the world, that would be the greatest memorial Bob Hockman would desire. God called him to a great work and then called him to a great reward. Through the memory of his example God is calling us to bear our part in carrying forward the work in which he so devotedly engaged."

Dr. Montgomery, President of the College, also participated in the memorial service, and gave a brief summary of Bob’s college activities: "Robert Hockman," he said in part, "had the privilege of being reared in a Christian home. His parents were godly people who have given many years of their lives in missionary service in China. For some time they made their home in New Concord, and Robert was graduated from Muskingum in 1928. While in college he was an outstanding man. He participated in a number of college activities. He won his letters in track and tennis; for some time he held the college record for throwing the discus; he played in the band and orchestra; he was a member of several cultural societies. He participated in the work of the Gospel team and the Y.M.C.A., and was a member of the Alban Club. After completing his work here, in 1928, he entered medical school at Northwestern University and graduated with honors. His marks for the state medical board examination were the second highest in the history of the state of Illinois. Following a year’s internship, he went to Ethiopia.

"He married Winifred Thompson, who was graduated from Muskingum in 1929. She and her baby daughter are now in Assiut, Egypt. The sympathy of the students and faculty goes out to her and her family and to Robert’s loved ones in Wheaton, Illinois…

"His name will go down in the annals of Muskingum-American-Ethiopian history as one who died that others might live. His death is another close tie that Muskingum College has with Ethiopia. ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’"

Dr. J. Oliver Buswell, Jr., President of Wheaton College, Wheaton, Illinois, (to which institution his brother and sister attributed their schooling) writes:

"He was an outstanding example of Christian devotion and courage, and I am confident that many young people will be impelled toward the mission field through his courageous life."

The following tribute was paid Bob by the United Press Correspondent at Harrar and Djijigga:

"I was stunned by the news of the death of Dr. Hockman, killed while unearthing a dud bomb outside his Ethiopian Red Cross hospital at Daggah Bur. Many times during a long journalistic experience, I have received terrible news, but the word of Dr. Hockman’s passing made me want to cry. I felt a deep feeling of tremendous personal loss for a man I regarded as great. We met while on a train traveling in Ethiopia, through chancing to discover our mutual knowledge of the Chinese language. Hockman, with a Red Cross unit, was en route for the southern front. He was one white man facing grave dangers and mighty obstacles, because Ethiopian inefficiency and inactivity on every hand, over a period of months, blocked and hindered his efforts to render humane service to the Ethiopian ill and wounded soldiery. British officials who visited Dr. Hockman in his crude but clean- tented hospitals at Djijigga and Daggah Bur, told me he was a man incredibly brave and self-sacrificing.

"The last time I saw him he was returning to Daggah Bur after a determined visit to Addis Ababa, where, through sheer purposefulness he obtained additional trucks, medical supplies and precious anti-gas serum. He had just received the news of the birth of his first child, a daughter, in a hospital in Assiut, Egypt. The last time I heard from Dr. Hockman was a message he managed to send over the crippled magneto telephone line, asking me to arrange with the headquarters of his Mission in Philadelphia, to spend Christmas with his wife and infant in Egypt. Permission was granted, but the exploding of that dud bomb at Daggah Bur meant that Hockman died without seeing his little daughter, and probably while he was in preparation to proceed to Egypt.

"A man of medium height, Hockman was clean cut, well built and had a chest like a barrel. He drove trucks over seemingly impassable Ethiopian roads, looked after his own equipment, was his own mechanic and grand shot with a rifle. He could throw an ox without apparent effort, yet had hands as gentle as those of a woman, as I discovered when he treated me for dysentery and malaria.

"Somehow, I would like to pay some sort of real tribute to a man who gave his life in service. Until now, the war in East Africa was just another news story to me, but now it has become a hateful thing, which killed a friend and one of the few men I really admired."

A beautiful letter from one of the colored churches in America, which wrote Bob’s parents, is touching in its humility. It runs as follows:

"We have lost a most precious friend. But how inadequate and poor is the offering of our deepest appreciation of him, in comparison with the excellency of his gifts – his self denial, his gracious mercy and charity so freely bestowed on our brothers in a far away land. In helping the despised, the lonely and the poor; in serving the friendless, he sacrificed his pleasures, his home, and his very life. Through the merciful services of his ministry of medicine he brought to our brothers in dark Ethiopia the knowledge of the Gospel and the wonderful love of God, which is above all bonds of nationality, color or creed and passes comprehension. "

From the other side of life, tribute came from many who knew not the Lord Jesus Christ but honored bravery. Atheists, Communists and unbelievers alike acclaimed a great man when they saw him. The Daily Worker, a communist paper, refers to Bob as follows:

"Dr. Hockman was a great missionary who probably had little knowledge and little sympathy for communism. He might not agree in our analysis of fascism. He had very different ultimate aims than we have. Nevertheless, we sincerely honor him as a man of action who carried his ideals into life. He went down to the firing line and served where he could be most useful."

Bob was the last person in the world to seek for or desire publicity. He appears to have been near when this was penned, and his voice came decisively to the writer saying, "Don’t idealize, I only did what I knew to be right." It is that, however, that God honors; so we feel we have not, and never could, overrate this man of God, this brother, this son, this husband, this friend.

Two fellow missionaries write:

"That God gave us the privilege of knowing Bob Hockman as close friend has ever been a source of thanksgiving, and since he has been called home it has been a source of great comfort to have now one of God’s choice young men. We knew Bob for six years; our first introduction was at a Sunday school picnic, when he was superintendent of the Junior Department in our home church, while still a student at medical school. Although coming from the same hometown and church, it was not until we were missionaries on the same mission field of Ethiopia that we became fast friends with the Hockmans, and it was in our times of deep distress, in the loss of our baby, and in serious illness that we found in Bob and Winnie friends indeed. We shall never forget Bob’s splendid Christian testimony, as our doctor, during those years in Ethiopia.

"Bob was ‘head and shoulders above his brethren’ the most talented man we have ever known. What he did, he did well, and he could do any number of things! In the few years he was in Ethiopia, he accomplished what many would be proud to accomplish in a lifetime. Bob’s was a workable Christianity, and the motto he had on the wall of the medical laboratory in the Mission hospital summed up what he lived among his fellows: ‘And whatsoever ye do, in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus. (Col.3:17)’

"The last time we saw Bob was at a railway stop on a tedious journey from Ethiopia to the coast. That the Lord arranged that meeting, we are certain, since we were on trains going opposite directions, Bob going up to Addis for Red Cross recruits, we, en route to America. We had about fifteen minutes together, and, as we parted, he sent a message home to his loved ones. ‘Tell them,’ he said, ‘that I have never felt more keenly than now that I am where the Lord wants me.’ What a wonderful testimony, to be, as Bob was, ‘faithful unto death,’ in the place God had chosen! Truly he has…

‘Joined the choir invisible,

Of those mortal dead who live again

In minds made better by their presence.’

"We are left standing, as it were, watching the clouds through which he passed from our sight. But we have the promise that he will return in those clouds to meet us in the air when our Lord ‘shall descend from heaven with a shout, and the voice of the archangel, and the trump of God, so shall we ever be with the Lord.

‘He is gone; but others live

Through which our Lord may work,

Oh, who will take the vacant place?

Can you this challenge shirk?’

"Bob went home in triumph, for he was where he felt the Lord wanted him. Isn’t it a joy and comfort to know that he was in the Lord’s will? That was one thing about him that we all admired. When he knew the Lord’s will, no matter how hard it was, no matter what others said, he went ahead and did it. And we know that when God called him, he was ready to go. God saw that his work on earth was finished, and called him to a higher service."

The war-stricken area of Ethiopia is only one of the hundreds of needy places on this sad old earth where people are dying without hearing of the Son of man who came to seek and to save those that are lost – lost in sin, superstition and fear.

"Only one life, ‘twill soon be past.

Only what’s done for Christ will last."

There is a lonely grave in Ethiopia and a vacant place to fill. Will you go? There are graves on the hillsides of China, on the riverbanks of India, in the jungles of Africa.

"Come over and help us" is the cry from all quarters of the earth. In our own native land, too, souls and bodies are perishing without the help that Christ can give through His servants. Martyrs have given their all to their Lord and to those they worked for; but their unfinished work is waiting today to be carried on – by whom?

"Why stand ye idle in the market place?" "Go." "Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world."

Oh our mind, like a camera, has pictured
Daggah Bur far, far out at the ‘front,’
Where a doctor is caring for wounded;
With aeroplanes and bombs adjacent.

We have seen him while hauling and pulling
In erecting a hospital tent,
Bringing rest and relief to the sufferer,
Every ounce of his vigor he spent.

We have watched him in countless operations,
And have seen him in cap and in gown,
Working hard under every condition –
And when homemade tables fell down!

We have seen the few gathered together
All with black, Afric faces – but one,
Meeting there with the presence of Christ to
Worship under the broiling sun.

We have seen the white tents in the moonlight,
And the ruins of towns in a pile,
Tales of sickness and wounded and dying,
While he cheers with a touch and a smile.

We have seen him take hands that were dirty,
Pointing them to the ‘Way’ and the ‘Door’,
Knowing e’en as he told them the story
They would hear of the Savior no more.

In our minds now our camera has shifted
And is focused on heavenly shore,
Where the weariness, danger and suffering
And the war and cruel death are no more.

Oh dear Lord, keep our camera more steady
That the picture made perfect we see.
That the lonely and tired white doctor
Is rejoicing forever with Thee.

Dare we ever again move the camera
We will focus on doctors-to-be.
There is room for an army of Christians
In this land, or away ‘cross the sea.

Who will fill up the ranks that are broken?
Who will resign their own selfish goal
And will take forth the Gospel of Jesus
For the healing of body and soul?

-- By Bob’s Mother