Category: Colorized Image

Billy Sunday in Bellingham, Washington: Six Weeks that Stirred the City (April–May 1910)

After wrapping up in Danville, Illinois (early April 1910), Billy and his family left for
Bellingham aboard a train.

When Billy Sunday arrived in Bellingham, Washington, in the spring of 1910, the city knew something significant was about to happen.

His campaign formally began on April 17, 1910, and was scheduled to run for six weeks through May 29. Even before the opening service, anticipation was high. On April 16, The Bellingham Herald placed the coming revival on the front page, signaling that this was not just another religious meeting but a major civic event.

From the start, the campaign drew extensive attention. Local and regional newspapers covered Sunday’s meetings with unusual depth and frequency. By May 2, The Seattle Star was featuring the revival prominently on its own front page, evidence that Sunday’s influence extended far beyond Bellingham into the broader Pacific Northwest.

One of the most remarkable days came on Sunday, May 1. That evening, approximately 15,000 people crowded into the tabernacle and surrounding grounds to hear Sunday preach. The turnout was stunning for a city of Bellingham’s size at the time. Collections that day totaled $3,201.10, a substantial sum in 1910, reflecting both the generosity of the crowd and the financial scale of Sunday’s campaigns. That same service also recorded 140 conversions, showing that this was not merely spectacle but a movement that claimed measurable spiritual results.

Interest in Sunday’s work went beyond daily newspaper reports. On May 8, The Bellingham Herald devoted magazine-style coverage to the revival, suggesting that the meetings had become a defining moment in the city’s public life rather than a passing event.

Perhaps the most revealing glimpse into Sunday himself came from an interview published in The Daily Herald of Everett on May 18 under the title “Billy Sunday: His Methods, His Ideas and His Work.” In it, Sunday rejected the idea that his success came from showmanship or gimmicks. He explained his approach in characteristically plain terms:

“I haven’t any tricks. I’m just an old-fashioned preacher. I tell people in plain words the simple truth, that they are lost in sin and need salvation. I just preach the Bible – that’s all.”

That statement captures the heart of his appeal in Bellingham. He did not present himself as a social reformer, a political activist, or a religious entertainer. He came as a straightforward revival preacher who believed that the Bible, clearly proclaimed, could still change lives.

By the time the campaign concluded on May 29, Bellingham had experienced six weeks of intense preaching, packed crowds, and sustained public attention. For many residents, these meetings likely became a defining memory of the year 1910—a season when their city was temporarily at the center of a national religious movement.

The Bellingham campaign illustrates why Billy Sunday was such a powerful figure in early twentieth-century America. He could command enormous crowds, attract front-page coverage, inspire generous giving, and still insist that his effectiveness rested not on method but on message. In Bellingham, as in so many other cities, Sunday left behind not just statistics, but stories of a community stirred by revival.

Billy Sunday in New Castle, Pennsylvania: A City Swept by Revival (September–October 1910)

When Billy Sunday came to New Castle, Pennsylvania, in the fall of 1910, the city quickly discovered that it was not ready for what was about to happen.

The campaign opened on September 18, 1910, and from the very first service it was clear that the tabernacle—built to hold 7,500 people—was not nearly large enough. According to the New Castle Herald (Sept. 19, 1910), crowds overflowed the structure on opening day, spilling into the streets and surrounding grounds. What had been intended as a major civic event immediately became something larger: a public phenomenon.

For six weeks, New Castle lived inside a revival. Night after night, thousands gathered to hear Sunday preach in his unmistakable style—direct, forceful, unsparing, and deeply earnest. Newspapers across western Pennsylvania followed the meetings closely, treating the campaign as front-page news rather than mere church business.

By the time the final service concluded on October 30, the numbers were staggering.

In total, $12,500 was collected during the campaign, as reported by the Warren Times Mirror on November 3, 1910. But far more striking were the spiritual results reported by local churches: 6,383 recorded conversions, including 1,050 decisions on the final evening alone.

The New Castle Herald captured the meaning of those numbers in a powerful editorial reflection on October 31:

“Just think of 6,383 souls being added to the churches of this city and county. This means one out of every six persons residing in this city. It means a very much larger proportion in reality, for these 6,383 are all of age to think and to accept for themselves the doctrines of Christianity. In the light of this, the money given yesterday to the evangelist seems a trivial sum, when compared with the good he has done.”

That statement goes to the heart of why New Castle mattered in Sunday’s career. This was not simply a revival that filled a building or generated headlines. It reshaped congregations across an entire region. Local churches suddenly found themselves filled with new members, new energy, and new responsibility for discipleship.

The New Castle campaign also illustrates why Billy Sunday became such a defining figure in early twentieth-century America. In an era before radio, television, or social media, he could command massive crowds purely through reputation, word of mouth, and the sheer force of his preaching. Cities did not merely host Sunday; they were changed by him.

More than a century later, the New Castle revival stands as one of Sunday’s most dramatic successes. For six weeks in 1910, a steel-town community experienced a spiritual earthquake—one that newspapers, pastors, and ordinary citizens remembered long after the tabernacle was torn down.

For historians of revival, New Castle offers a vivid case study in how Sunday’s campaigns worked: huge crowds, intense emotion, measurable results, and lasting impact on local churches.

For the people of New Castle, it was simply the season when their city met Billy Sunday—and was never quite the same again.

Billy Sunday family c. 1902

This image was likely take around 1902 because the oldest boy, George was born in 1892. He looks around 8-9 years old here. The other child must be Billy, Jr., born in 1901. The older woman is Helen’s mother. I colorized the image.