Ｊａｍｅｓ Ｅｎｄｉｃｏｔｔ ａｎｄ Ｈｉｓ Ｌｉｆｅ ｉｎ Ｃｈｉｎａ

James Endicott was born in Sichuan Province， China in 1898. He was the first son of a Canadian Missionary. As a well-known social activist， he devoted his whole life to the people-to-people friendship between Canada and China.

James spent his childhood in Chengdu， an old and peaceful city of Sichuan. His memory of Chengdu was full of beautiful dreams and happiness. He was a spirited child and delighted in flying kites. One of his kites was like a dragon， 40 feet long. When it flew magnificently in the sky， it often hooked other smaller kites. Though his father told him and his younger brother off once and again for doing that， they could not stop.

The little brothers frequently slipped out of their house to buy sweets from vendors or had a delicious Chinese meal in the apprentices’ kitchen. “It was really a miracle to survive under the reign of cholera， dysentery and typhoid，” James said.

James’s rebellious nature helped him to learn how to co-exist with the people who speak different language and have different cultures. He did not feel he was a foreigner in China. To James， Mr. Yang， a Chinese cook in his household， was like an uncle. Yang taught James good manners and sometimes even slapped his face to teach him a lesson. James regarded Yang as a family member and never had any idea of racial discrimination.

In 1944， after studying in Canada， James returned to China as a missionary and a professor of English language. He met with Zhou Enlai， the representative of CPC in Chongqing. They had a long and inspiring talk. He also got acquainted with Mrs. Gong Peng， a remarkable journalist. They became good friends and kept corresponding for 15 years. When James came back to Chengdu， he taught English at the Huaxi University while acting as a private teacher to Zhang Qun， the governor of Sichuan and Liu Wenhui， an army commander of KMT. James stayed in a villa house at the campus of the university. The two storied house combined the western comfortable inner structure and the Chinese traditional outer form. Named as the Number 11 Building， the house had a wooden floor and bright windows. Its study was spacious. In the cold winter， a stove was kept in the study where James liked to lie on a cane chair and lay his feet on a wooden stool by the stove while reading or talking with students. His students formed a group named “Star League”. He kept close link with them. He often invited them to drink tea at his house and exchange views on China’s political situation. James’ house was like a candle in a winter evening， delivering warmth and brightness.

One day in December 1945， thousands of people gathered in the Shaocheng Park of Chengdu to support the patriotic movement initiated by the students of Kunming Union University. James joined the rally and made a speech to express his sympathy for the Chinese students who pursued democracy and peace. When he started his speech， a man in military uniform threw a grenade up to the platform. James was not scared. He continued his speech and spoke more sharply and powerfully. The audience cheered him loudly.

40 years later， James’s son wrote in his memoirs that his Shaocheng Park speech marked a turning point in James’ life. He had bridged a wide gap. His views were transmuted from the utopianism and reformism of an intellectual to devotion of a revolutionary. As a dedicated revolutionary， he believed that the fundamental path of social transformation contained in the words “He has brought down mighty kings from their thrones and lifted their lowly.”(Luke 1-52)

In 1980s’， James returned to Chengdu for a visit. I had the opportunity to accompany him. He walked in the campus of Huaxi University of Medical Science and looked for his old haunts. The sights stroke a chord in his heart... He kept talking in pure Sichuan dialect which was like the swift flow of the Min River rushing through the sluice gate of the Dujiangyan Irrigation Project. He even remembered the sedan-chair bearers’ folk song that he learnt over 70 years before. When he sang it， everybody laughed.

James was entranced by the green path under the shadow of ginkgo trees and the banks of the blue lake with its fragrance of lotus flowers and the reflection of the Bell Tower. He said “I have a breath of childhood air， it is so lovely and free.” He met his Star League friends whose hair had turned gray but their singing voices were still young.

James presented to me a copy of his biography with his signature. His Chinese writing was like his personality， childish and forceful.

About 10 years later， James passed away. According to his last wish， part of his ashes was brought by his son to Leshan， his birthplace， and dropped into the Min River. As James’ friend， I took part in the ash dropping ceremony. That was a cloudy day， a light mist drifted over the river. Our boat sounded its siren to show respect to this beloved old friend. James’ throbbing heart had finally ceased at the home of his soul and the place where stars were sparkling and angels were singing.