In 1799, Georg Daniel Flohr accepted a call to minister to the Lutheran and Reformed Germans in the New River Valley of Virginia. Raised as a Reformed German, he was ordained by the Lutherans. Flohr wrote letters to Paul Henkel, in Winchester, and to others, and told of his life in his new job.
Immediately Flohr encountered some problems with parishioners. Martin Kimmerling was pouting because nobody had voted for him during the recent elections of church elders and deacons. John Koppenhoffer had gotten two women pregnant, but did not want to marry either of them. Flohr's reports also showed there was a dire need for pastors on the frontier. In his first year, Flohr baptized 89 children and confirmed 54 more. These baptisms and confirmations are even more surprising in light of the fact he had only 189 communicants along Reed Creek.
Typically, Lutheran ministers of that day were first licensed, and then ordained, after a few years had gone by. Flohr was not ordained until 1803, and by this time he was serving six churches in three counties. It must have been very wearing on a man, who in his fifties and sixties who went through the snow of winter and the heat of summer. Though in his youth Flohr had been a strict adherent of the Reformed faith, he grew lenient about religious dogma. A part of this conversion had taken place in New England, where he saw many religions living together peacefully, which had not always been the case in the Palatinate. In fact, he came to believe that all of the Protestant churches ought to lay aside their differences and unite. He did not hesitate to express his feelings in letters and in sermons.
Not everyone accepted Flohr's outlook. In 1819, Julia Tevis, a young schoolteacher and fiery Methodist, described Wytheville as a town noted for its total indifference to religion. She seems to have described Flohr as, "An example of the worst kind, carousing, drinking, cockfighting, and playing cards during the week, and delivering an occasional sermon on Sunday."
On 30 April 1826, four months before his 70th birthday, George Daniel Flohr died, genuinely mourned by the congregations he had served faithfully for a quarter of a century. James A. Brown later recalled the funeral. Though Flohr lived more than a mile from the church where he was buried, his friends carried him on their shoulders to his last resting place. Lawrence Krone, a stone carver and member of the Reformed Church, provided the head stone at his own expense. Apparently he was truly missed in the community.
It appears, that during his career as a pastor, he never told anyone of his first career as a soldier. Because of the contrast in the two periods, it might be wondered whether he was the same person. But samples of his handwriting show that he was, in fact, one man, with two careers, and a very interesting life.
(15 Sep 01)
We gratefully acknowledge the work of John Blankenbaker who published over 2,500 Germanna History Notes via the Germanna-L@rootsweb.com email list from 1997 to 2008. We are equally thankful to George Durman (Sgt. George) for hosting the list and republishing the notes via rootsweb.com.