Baby Viola: A Star Is Born
(Chapter One)
By Michael O'Connor
What you are about to read is the first segment of the life story of Viola Creeden Wertz. As with all biographical
presentations, the writer is provided very often with only a basic outline, and perhaps a number of more detailed accounts.
In order to make the narrative readable, enjoyable, and informative, that outline must be expanded upon, and the information
carefully researched, and collated, to make-up the entire composition. While such has been the case in "Baby Viola,"
the basic story line is intact and carefully preserved; thusly resting firmly upon the true facts and events of her life.
While great care has been taken along these lines, we cannot guarantee the accuracy and veracity of every minute detail, as
per: names, places, events, dates, etc. Notwithstanding, this treatise is solidly based upon the factual history and
events surrounding the life of this remarkable woman of God.
It has been my great privilege to have been, for Twenty Years, a "Son in the Gospel," to Sister Viola Creeden
Wertz; whom I and numerous others esteem to have been one of the more significant Women of God, in the mid-Twentieth Century.
It was Sister Wertz's expressed
wish that I compose her Life-Story, as a witness and testimony unto our Lord Jesus Christ, of His grace and transforming power,
and as a source of help, hope, and encouragement, unto His People. It is my hope, and earnest prayer, that our blessed
Lord Jesus shall anoint, bless, and smile upon this, the Life-Story of, Viola Creeden Wertz. Thank God for this remarkable
record of our Lord's dealings in the life of one of His Hand-Maidens. Amen!
As is very often the case, folk in Show-Business (especially the ladies) prefer to not divulge their ages. We
can make only a conjecture as to the true dates of the following events, but careful research leads us to believe these dates
to be fairly accurate. It is believed that “Baby Viola” made her debut at: The People's Theater, in Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania, in approximately 1898.
As related by Viola Creeden Wertz:
I was born in North Philadelphia, on Second Street, which was in those times a German-Irish neighborhood of good
hard-working people. Mom was Irish-Catholic, while Dad was German-Protestant. They were truly good people, who believed in
God, and wished for their children to be raised as Christian Believers.
There was however a rather significant contradiction in our home, considering that Mom was a devout Catholic,
who taught us that Protestants were “heretics,” and of the devil! Poor Dad seemed to endure this edict year after
year, with the greatest patience; but while Mom saw that we were sent to the neighborhood Catholic church, Dad would find
every possible excuse to “sneak-us-over” to the little Methodist church, which was a sort of “store-front
chapel,” where his brother, Charles Dinghuss, was a Deacon (or something of that sort), and Church Pianist. We
loved going there, and of course, I was very fond of my Uncle Charlie! My early childhood was also greatly influenced by another
small neighborhood church, which was run by the “German Dunkirds,” of whom I will speak later, as I wish
to give due recognition to their powerful influence upon my life.
My Mother, Anna Montgomery, as a young girl, had been an aspiring vocalist, just breaking into the Nickelodeon
Theaters, when she met and married my Father (Benjamin Dinghuss). [It is believed that “Ben and Anna” were married
in Philadelphia, some time around 1887.] Of course, the children began to come, and women in those days worked from morning
till night! Nothing was easy; especially with a house full of babies and small children,
and not much in the way of wages coming in. Mother knew her “career” was finished, but always secretly hoped that
at least one of her children would become an actress. I now realize, her hope was not the wisest nor loftiest aspiration,
but she was just a poor Irish girl, who did not understand that there was a higher and better way. She hailed from a poor
immigrant family, and desperately wished a better life for her children!
My three sisters and I exhibited musical and dancing abilities at a very early age. I was especially adept at
recitation and the ability to remember rehearsed lines. For several months, Mom continued to mention in a rather “low-key
manner” to Dad, that she was convinced, her Viola had an inherent gift for the Theater. Dad was not impressed,
and wanted no part of his daughters being in Show Business, period! Nevertheless, Mom kept dropping her remarks.
It was known to Dad, even then, that her health was beginning to fail! In view of these facts, Dad thought it would
not be wrong to attempt to find a slot for me in some small production.
As it happened, one of his friends (a large Irish gentleman named “Frank O'Connor,” who had a mouth
full of gold teeth) was a theatrical impresario, and the manager of the old Peoples' Theater, in North Philadelphia. Dad spoke
with him, and asked him if it would be possible to give me a slot in the Saturday afternoon talent show. Much to his surprise,
Mr. O'Connor said: “Of course, Ben, bring her over next Saturday afternoon! Just make sure she has her lines well rehearsed,
and has her routine down, perfectly!” Dad replied: “Oh, Ya! Ya! Ve vill see to dis, all right! My vife, she vill
verk vit Viola all dis veek to make sure dat she has everyting just right! Ya! Ve vill be here on time!”
Let me tell you, that was one rigorous week! When Mom was not sewing my beautiful little costume, with all the
frills, ribbons, and crinolines, she was putting me through the traces, with dance steps, and a song and recitation! (Over,
and over, and over, again . . . !) “You must do it again, Viola, it is not good enough, yet! Lift your feet more
lightly . . . swing into your pirouette with more force, and then come out of it gracefully, with the time-step.” “OK,
Mommy, let's do it again!” “Again, Viola; remember, me little darlin', practice makes perfect . . .
practice makes perfect . . . one more time, darlin' . . . Ah, sure, your gettin' it now . . . Oh yes, so much better!”
“Whew . . . Mommy, I am tired! May I stop now and rest?” “Oh, yes, me little dearest . . . I think
ye've got it down pat, sure!” Then she'd draw me up into her lap and fold me to her breast. I loved my dear Mom very
deeply, but felt uneasy to hear her soft sobs as hot tears fell upon my head and face. “Mommy, why are you crying? Are
you sad?” “Oh, no, me love! Not to worry! Yer 'ole' Mom is fine; just a bit tired, that's all!”
Saturday morning rolled around, and Mom was all a-flutter, brushing my silky blonde hair, into which she tied
an amazing assortment of ribbons: Oh, the dress and everything had to be perfect, and we
went through the lines and the steps one last time! Having the other kids at home, she was not able to accompany me,
so Dad took me in charge. I remember as though yesterday, riding the old horse-drawn trollies, for what seemed a long distance.
Finally, we disembarked at the trolly-stop, and began walking up the broad avenue: “Daddy, where is the theatre?
I don't see it.” “Oh ya, Viola, it ist not far now; chust up der street.” Oh, if only Mommy could be here
with us! (Little could I imagine that in just seven short years, she we would be taken from our home, at forty-two years of
age!)
Suddenly, Dad stopped and exclaimed: “Look, Viola, look, dare it ist! Oh, see how big and pretty dis theater
ist.” “Daddy, am I really going to sing and dance here, in this place?” “Oh ya, Viola, but
you must not be nervous or fearful, because you are going to do chust fine; und remember dat your Daddy ist right here vit
you, to give big hand-clapping! So, chust do your best, und remember dat da people vant you to sing loud, and to
dance strong, und to speak your verds very clear und loud! Dis ist vat dey vant! Den, you vait und see; dey
vill cheer und clap, und give you a great applause.”
Perhaps you can imagine the fear and the “butterflies” a small child would encounter in such a situation!
This was, after all, my first public appearance! I had sung and danced for family, friends, and neighbors, but never in a
theater . . . and such a theater! (It was one of the largest in North Philadelphia at that time.)
Just then, Mr. O'Connor appeared: He leaned over and gently patted my cheek, and smiled. I was absolutely fascinated
when he smiled, because all I could see was a mouth full of gold teeth. I later inquired of this matter to my Father: “Daddy,
how can anybody have gold teeth? God doesn't give us gold! When baby sister was born, she didn't have any teeth at all;
then, when her first tooth came in, it was white, not gold.” Dad laughed in his boisterous German manner, and assured
me that God had not given Mr. O'Connor those gold teeth, but rather, they were given to him by his very skilled dentist!
It took me several years to fully comprehend the meaning of that statement. (How could a dentist make a man to have gold
teeth?)
"So then, I see you have brought this beautiful little princess today. She is a tiny little thing, and she
looks more like a baby-doll! How old is she, Ben?" My Dad replied hastily:
“Oh, she is chust seven, und nearly eight, but she ist not too young! You vill see, she ist very good in her performance!”
(Dad was fearful that Mr. O'Connor would think me too young to be in the talent show.) To Dad's surprise, Mr. O'Connor burst
out laughing, and reassured him: “Oh, don't worry Ben, she is not too young, for this is indeed a children's amateur
hour; but we cannot make her seven years old! That will never do! As of now, she is five years old, and she
will remain five years old for probably the next two or three years, and as of now, she is 'Baby Viola,' and she will
most likely be booked with 'Rae Dooley;' that is, if her performance is as good as I think it will be.”
Now please understand that I didn't comprehend one word of this conversation. Little did I realize that I
was very soon to embark upon the life of a child actress! I honestly doubt that Dad fully comprehended what he heard!
I do recall that he seemed somewhat stunned, and was answering Mr. O'Connor in a manner rather uncustomary to him; that is,
he was mumbling, and couldn't seem to get his words out. The next thing I knew, Dad and I were being rather quickly ushered
down the side alley adjoining the theater, to a rear door (the stage entrance). My head was in a spin, due to the fact that
this was all new to me, and everything seemed to be happening too fast for a seven-year-old child!
As we were going through the dressing rooms, and the areas backstage, I saw many young boys and girls; some with
their mothers, and other with their tutors, who seemed to be in preparation for their performances. I was already in my costume,
so I assumed I looked perfectly acceptable, and ready to go on-stage. Suddenly, Mr. O'Connor blurted out: “Ben, what
is she going to sing?” Dad fumbled for words, and tried to explain the title of the song. As I think back in retrospect,
it was a very hilarious moment! “Ben, what is her dance routine and her recitation?” Dad seemed totally unable
to express the desired answer. “Oh well, never mind! It will be all right. Viola, I'll lead you to the proscenium
arch, and then I'll give you a signal to walk through, and out onto the stage. Then, my little princess, you will be on
your own.”
I, at that point, tried to speak, and explain to him, concerning my song, dance routine, and recitation, but
the din backstage was considerable, and it is possible that he had some degree of hearing impairment, because it appeared
that he didn't hear one word I was saying! I thought to myself, “How in the world am I supposed to go out there
and sing a song, when the orchestra has no idea of what I am going to sing, or what to play in accompaniment to my dance routine!”
Talk about “butterflies!” I must make a note here to express that in all my years of entertaining, I never
was able to conquer the butterflies!
Oh, how I suffered with that anxiety! It was a sort of unnerving torment that would actually cause me
to shake and become nauseous at times, before I went on-stage! I never overcame that! Yet, in a strange way, from an early
age, I began to realize that I was always at my best, when under the greatest pressure! This strange paradox, over
the years, became evident in every area of my life; especially in my years of ministry experience.
Other children had come, and gone through the proscenium arch. The orchestra sounded grand, and the applause
was at times uproarious. I was so engrossed in the program and, so enjoying the performances of the other children, that when
I felt a tap on my shoulder, and heard Mr. O'Connor's voice, I was quite startled! “Alright, Viola, go out there and
do your best.” Although startled, and a bit bewildered, I nevertheless “braced-up,” stood tall and straight;
and marched right through the old arch, onto the stage! I didn't know what to do, so I walked, until I came to center-stage;
and I was strangely aware of a powerful light following me as I walked. There was no music; there was no sound; the orchestra
was mute! Don't ask me how I was able to accomplish this, but I suddenly realized that this was my moment; this was my
audience; this was my theater; this was my stage; and this was my orchestra!
I strode right to the edge of the stage apron, and looked down into the orchestra pit. I seemed to understand
that the tall gentleman with the baton in his hand was the “boss.” So, with a sweeping gesture, a smile,
and curtsey, I spoke-out, in a loud, clear voice: “Conductor, please pick up my key.” His eyes flew wide-open,
and he looked visibly startled! Before he had a chance to answer, I went into my song with all the gestures and steps, and
by the time I hit the third bar, the orchestra had picked it up, most beautifully. When the song was over, there was an uproarious
applause! I then lifted my hands (as to hush the audience), and brought them slowly back to my sides. I instinctively knew
that I should lift my head and project my voice upward, toward the second and third balconies; and to make eye contact, in
a scanning manner, as I gave my recitation. Again, thunderous applause! Again, I strode to the apron, and gesturing to the
orchestra, chirped out: “All right boys, let's have a quick tempo, two-step.” (Again, the conductor gave me a
look that would melt ice.) I suppose he was thinking: “Who in the world is this brazen up-start?” But,
he seemed to understand that he had a job to do, and that I did as well. I can still see that baton drop with a jerk, his
whole face a mask of anger; but without missing a beat, I went right into my dance!
The audience called for two encores. I tried to leave the stage twice, not understanding that they wanted more!
Mr. O'Connor met me both times at the proscenium, and said: “No, Viola, go back-out; they want more!” I
remonstrated: “More of what? I've done my performance! What more do they want? What more am I supposed to do?”
He kept shooing me back on stage, whispering loudly: “Just keep on singing and dancing, that's all! You're doing
fine . . . FINE! Now just get out there!”
That was my first performance, and the debut that launched me into an acting career that was to continue for
nearly sixty years; in numerous phases of Show-Business, and under different stage names; working with various troupes, and
also as a solo act. I worked under the R.K.O. Studios, on the B.F. Kieth Circuit, and also on the Albee Circuit. I was a member
of such groups as: Rae Dooley's Minstrels; Dumont's Minstrels; the Dinnus Sisters; Rae and Davis; Creeden and Davis; and others,
as well as in solo acts, under the names: Baby Viola, Viola Davis, and Catherine Creeden. My official stage-name was Viola
Davis.
[Dear readers, at this juncture, we wish to focus upon Viola's early
childhood influences by the Dunkirds.]
Now, let me tell you about something which is so very close to my heart! When I was a little child on North
Second Street, both before and after going into Show Business, I was greatly influenced by Uncle Charlie's Methodist church,
but to a far greater degree, by the dear folk from the little Dunkird Church. I do not recall the actual name of their
church at the time, since that is many, many years ago, but I do know that all the neighbors referred to them all as the German
Dunkirds. I suppose this was a German word meaning, “Dunkers.” You see, they were Anabaptists who practiced Baptism
by full immersion, which was quite a curiosity in a predominantly Catholic neighborhood. Some, rather unkindly, referred to
them as the “Holy Jumpers.” Others scorned them and regarded them bitterly, as “devils” and “Protestant
heretics.” In those days, folk who baptized by full immersion were often the victims of malicious slander, and satirical
comedy: “You had better watch out for those 'dunkers!' Don't let them get ahold of you. They get people down in that
pool, and drown them,” etc., etc. (Thank God for the wonderful truth of water baptism into which He brought me in 1959,
when I was baptized by full immersion according to Acts 2:38.)
For my entire life, I was a staunch member of the Catholic Church, but I did not come to a full understanding
of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, until 1957, at the time of my miraculous healing! Yet, never in my life did I embrace any
degree of hatred or resentment against my “Protestant brothers and sisters!”
That is exactly how I perceived them! I realize now, it was the Lord at work in
my heart to love, accept, and embrace all people who truly love our Lord Jesus Christ! While I was avowedly a Catholic,
I had many close friends, among various denominations and church groups. The Lord used many of these dear folk to witness
Christ to me, and some gave me tracts and pamphlets, etc., which greatly comforted and encouraged me over the years. Through
the faithful witness of some such friends, I accepted the Lord Jesus as my personal Savior, in Boston, way back in the
late 1930's. I believe with all my heart that I was then saved, but it would take nearly twenty years longer, with
a broken heart, shattered life, crippled body, and in bondage to alcohol, pills, and nicotine, before I would fully understand
the way of Salvation; and come fully into a Born-Again experience!
I must continue speaking about these dear Dunkird folk! I can remember as a child, playing on the sidewalks
and on the streets (which was our only playground). At least once a week, I would hear the music start, and the beautiful
singing of Gospel songs, during their weekly “Street-Meetings!” Some of the folk would be crying and praying!
Others would be shouting with upraised hands while praising the Lord! They would preach powerfully and convincingly,
resulting in consistent numbers of folk who would come forward to receive Christ! These dear folk were always so very kind
to us, and the sweet ladies (some who wore bonnets upon their heads, and long dresses) would hug and kiss us, as gentle
mothers, and tell us of the love of Jesus, and how much they loved us also, and how they were praying for us!
I can remember standing there with tears streaming down my face; believing every word they said! I suppose
at that time, they may have led me in a “sinner's prayer,” but I had no way of then understanding what was happening,
nor the fullness of what I was doing! One thing I do know; those blessed people were the most genuine, and sincere expression
of Christ, I had seen in my childhood! They had a way of praying and singing, and telling us about Jesus, that would pierce
right to our hearts! We loved them and couldn't wait until time to again go to their street meetings! Tragically, upon
many such occasions, my dear Mother, who just did not understand, would come and angrily pull us away from the “heretic
devils.” I would cry as if my heart would break, and my sisters also, for we felt loved and cared for by these
saintly folk! That was many years ago, but I have never been able to forget those precious souls who were known by some in
our neighborhood as “the Holy-People.” [This would have taken place from approximately 1897 to 1910.]
Now, an interesting side-note is, that after many years (I suppose sometime around the early-1960's), someone
told me of a radio broadcast, originating at a “Holiness Church,” on North Second Street. I tuned-in and was greatly
blessed by the ministry of the Pastor: Brother William L. Rosenberry! They had a ladies' duet, who sang the same kind of
beautiful Hymns I remembered hearing as a child! I began to ponder in my heart if this could indeed be the same group,
to which (in childhood) we referred as, the Dunkirds? My sister and I decided to visit their meetings, and oh, how marvelously
blessed we were at the preaching and ministry of God's Word! Upon speaking with some of the church-folk after the meeting,
we realized that “Calvary Holiness Church,” was indeed an outgrowth of the little Dunkird church, which we had
known in childhood. I have often wished that I could have been free to become a part of that group in my childhood! I am sure
that my life would have been entirely different, and that I would have been spared of much heartache, tragedy, and sorrow!
You know, Beloved, the old devil is very shrewd and cunning! As far as the things of the world, he has a very
deceitful way of presenting his dainties. Oh, he can make what he has to offer appear to be so beautiful and so appealing!
This is how he traps and ensnares so many folk, and especially the young people! He causes sin to look harmless and attractive,
but please believe me when I tell you, the end of sin is death, and at the end of your life, there is a devil's Hell awaiting,
if you know not Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior!
Since I have been saved and serving the Lord Jesus Christ [since 1937, and especially since my healing and full
consecration to Christ in 1957], I have had a great burden and concern for children, teenagers, and young adults! I
reach out to them; pray for them, minister to them, help, and encourage them to come to Jesus, and to not be deceived by the
things of the world! In the “Tent-Meetings,” we have ministered to children
in the afternoon children's services; and we have continued to reach out to them in the three churches, which our Lord has
helped us to raise-up, since 1962.
It has always been our policy to encourage young folk to use their gifts and talents for the Lord, and to yield
all to Him, leaving the deceitful and destructive ways of the world, to follow Him in
His true path; that is: The Gospel Path! It is the Highway to Heaven. It is the Highway of Holiness! (I am a
firm believer of putting young folk right “into the harness,” and getting them busy for Jesus!) I have seen too
many cases where young folk have been called and anointed, and had a great burden for souls, but because of delay, and a lack
of understanding by their elders, the time slipped by, and little by little, their zeal cooled off, and in some cases, they
were lost to the calling and purposes of God; to settle for a mundane existence upon a worldly plane.
"There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof
are the ways of death!" (Proverbs 14:12). “Today if you will hear His voice, harden not your hearts!” (Hebrews
3:15) “...now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of Salvation!” (2 Corinthians 6:2).
I remember years ago when I was preaching in Maine. So many of the young people had been bound with sin and bad
habits. Some had become discouraged, backslidden, and had gone back into the world. There was a strong principality there
of depression and suicide! We ministered among various churches, with only one message: The message of Jesus Christ as Savior,
Healer, Baptizer, and Coming King!
The Pastors and Elders did not see “eye to eye” on very much, but they seemed rather consistent in
their dislike for Lady Preachers! (smile). Yet, God sent me, so I had to embrace my cross, and do my best to win souls and
encourage the Believers. The Lord gave us very good results there! (All glory unto His wonderful name!) It required serious
prayer and fasting, but He granted us breakthrough after breakthrough! I had to hold my ground, and exalt Jesus Christ above
all else, but thanks be unto God, He granted us many powerful victories!
It was my great privilege to minister for one week at the opening of Pinecrest Bible Training Center in September,
1968. I was again honored to be invited there as a guest speaker in 1973 and 1974. Our Lord Jesus blessed those meetings with
tremendous outpourings of His Holy Spirit, and much good accomplished in the lives of the young people, and the older folk
as well. I was still Pastoring full time in Philadelphia when the Lord directed Brother Wade Taylor to write me a letter of
invitation to move to Pinecrest, and to serve as a Student Counselor. This I accepted as being the will of God, and I must
say that my time here has been a very blessed experience in God; being surrounded with all these precious young folks, who
are here in preparation for their lives in His service.
[For those who may not be aware, our dear Sister and Mother in the
Faith, served faithfully and tirelessly at Pinecrest Bible Training Center, (September, 1977 until December, 1981) even during
times of excruciating pain and suffering. She was called home peacefully in her sleep, on December 16, 1981 (somewhere between
the ages of 85 and 95).]
