In 1873 he entered Leland University, New Orleans, where he remained four years pursuing the classical and theological courses under Drs. Gregory and Stone.
While in Louisiana he was engaged in teaching school and was intimately associated with the general Baptist work, being at one time editor of their state organ, the Baptist Messenger. In 1884-85 he was editor of the Baptist Pioneer, located at Selma, Ala., and has served as general superintendent of missions for the State of Alabama. For many years he has been on the Board of Trustees of Selma University, and in recognition of his solid worth and general information he is now the bearer of our denominational standard.
Mr. Owens is a typical, Christian gentleman. No other man among us has a library so select, so varied and so valuable as he has, nor has any man in Alabama a clearer evidence of literary talent and literary relish. He is a many-sided man, and the beauty of his solid personal qualities is greatly enhanced by his indigenous vivacity, unstinted hospitality, and perennial benevolence. In the hovels of the poor and in the times of the sources of disease, no man among us is more welcome than he, neither is there one of his brethren whose duty renders more heedless of danger or blind to personal privations and material losses. Whether he builds houses of worship, preaches, lectures, teaches, writes—whatever may be the engagement of the hour, that engagement focuses the whole man. The following incidents will show something of the style of his mind: On one occasion when severely tried in administering discipline, and when he had allowed his feelings of indignation to run too high, he was so distressed that for many nights sleep almost entirely forsook him. The writer overheard him on this occasion, saying, “Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight.”
Upon another occasion in the midst of a session of the Convention, and as one of the policemen of the town walked in and was seated, he arose and remarked: “Brother president, I see in our assembly a policeman of the city in which we are convened. I think this a fit time to give notice to any who may feel inclined to be unruly that they must observe good order or I’ll have them arrested.” This came in just at a condition of the meeting when a bit of humor was just the thing most needed.
The St. Anthony Street Church, Mobile, is a tangible memorial of his energy, self-sacrifice and patient industry. Beside the pastorate of the St. Anthony Street Church (the Third Baptist), he has served in the pastorate of the Dexter Avenue, Montgomery, and in the pastorate of the church at Uniontown.
His speeches are characterized by originality, clearness, force and dignity. He is still a growing man—growing in worth of manhood and in the confidence and love of the denomination; and should his health and life continue, the historian who will write of a brighter day than this—a day not far in the future—will point with pride to this man of rare gifts, giving more space than is here accorded him. With special pleasure the writer records the name of Albert F. Owens, D. D., high upon the roll of his personal friends.
And this short notice of a worthy man can hardly close at a point of greater beauty than in an humble tribute to his other self, Mrs. Mary Mims Owens (once Mrs. Taylor), whom he wedded in 1882, and who is held in high esteem as a leader in church and educational circles.
Pettiford, Rev. W. R., D. D., son of William and Matilda Pettiford, was born in Granville county, N. C., January 20, 1847. He was, when a boy, of an industrious turn of mind, working faithfully at whatever his hands found to do. At one time he was with the tanner, and at another time he was running his father’s farm.
At the age of 21 years he united with the Baptist Church of Rocksboro, Person county, N. C., and was immersed by the Rev. Ezekiel Horton, of Salisbury. While he was serving this church as clerk, he told his mother, as a secret which he greatly desired she would not reveal, that he felt called to the gospel ministry. As Brother Horton often put up at their home he soon got possession of the secret. Dr. Pettiford now says: “When I was called into an examining council and learned that my secret was out, I was very much frightened; but the advice given upon this day has ever been helpful to me.” The writer met the subject of this sketch for the first time at the session of the State Convention held in Talladega in November, 1876. He and the late Senator A. H. Curtis were messengers from the church at Marion. At this time the only traits that were especially noticeable were the frankness of his countenance and the geniality of his manners. At the commencement of Selma University in the winter of 1877-78, he joined Brother Woodsmall, becoming a member of the pioneer faculty of the school. It was here that he was seen as the studious, patient, industrious man—loved no less by tender youth than he was trusted by riper years. He was called to ordination by the Marion Church, Marion, Ala., and dedicating hands were laid upon his head in Marion, Ala., in the midst of the conventional session held there in November, 1880. After this he severed his connection with the school as teacher and as financial agent, to enter the pastorate in Union Springs. His open, earnest face, tact, and urbanity of speech, made him one of the most successful financial agents the University has ever sent upon the field. He relates the following incident in connection with his field work for the school: “I was about thirty miles southeast of Greenville, Ala. A colored man by the name of Turner had just been mobbed in Clark county. The colored people along the road were exceedingly frightened at the threatening attitude of the whites, and hence refused to entertain any stranger. I knew not where I was and it was now dark. My horse was broken down. Family after family turned me off. At last one man agreed to entertain my tired horse. Thankful for this little drop of kindness, I stopped and fed my animal. Then I started off—I knew not whither. After awhile I saw through the boughs of the pines a dim light, which seemed far away. Turning towards this light I wended my way through sage field and bush, until I stood beside an old log hut, a rickety relic of an old time Negro quarter. With ease this tiny spark peeped through the great opening in the dirty cabin full into my weary face. Herein, with husband and wife and babies, and a lot of dirt, I was allowed to rest my tired limbs and heavy heart till morning.
“Upon one occasion while Bro. D. T. Gulley and I were on mission work together, we were delayed in Marengo county. Waters were up, Brother Gulley was sick, and the people had no money to give for educational purposes. I went to begging milk cows and succeeded in getting the people to donate six.”