In my eternal quest for stories and history about my beloved hometown, I came across a former resident's grandson1 who lives in far off Oregon.
Here is a story the grandson remembers being told about...
Yes, I am the grandson of Rev. James Kimberley.
My father grew up in St. Vincent. I've never been there, but he told me many stories about growing up there. I think their house had a white picket fence around it. My father told me that when his parents were gone for the day, he was to rake up all the leaves. He had some matches and set little piles of leaves on fire, then stamped it out. It got bigger and bigger and the stamping didn't work. It caught the fence on fire. half of it was burned when his parents came home. He hid upstairs under their bed. His father found him and in his British accent said, "I say, Gurney, are you there?" He responded, "NO!" His father was not amused. He caught hell for that one.
[as recalled by Ogden Kimberley, shared with me February 26, 2011]1 - I think Rev. K would like that his grandson is a bagpiper!