From Cactus to Clover

July 16, 2010 at 10:27 pm (Andersen Roots) (, )

The Story of Danishpet

by:  Richard Andreas Bonneland Andersen (written circa 1965)

The story of Danishpet begins in the village of Horne on the island of Fyn (Denmark), where lived Anders Jeppensen and his wife, Anna, weavers by trade.

With Anders and Anna were their three children, two sons and a daughter. One son died in adolescence. The other, Morten, grew up normally, studying, Playing, and, in later years, farming and fishing. His sister,  Johanne, helped her parents at home, learning in a practical way all the arts of good housekeeping.

All the members of the family belonged to the Lutheran Church. In 1888, Morten Andersen volunteered for service in India through the Danish Missionary Society and was sent to England for six months to study English, of which he already had some knowledge. Following an old custom, he had changed his name to Andersen, being the son of Anders Jeppensen. On his return, he was engaged to Jensine Rasmussen, who was to join him in India, after he had learnt the Tamil language and been posted to his first station.


Anders Jeppensen and his wife, Anna Mortensdatter (seated)
Jensine Rassmussen, Morten Andersen, and Johanne Andersen

Morten sailed for India, arrived in Madras, and was sent to Tiruvanamalai to study Tamil under a Munshi (teacher). While he was doing that, the Mission Board asked him to investigate a report sent to them that “the gospel was spreading from village to village in South India”. He found this to be untrue and informed the Mission Board at home that is was not the gospel, but Mission rupees that were being carried from village to village. This unusual report was not considered seriously at the time and no action was taken on it. Two or three years later, however, changed became inevitable.

In 1890, Morten Andersen was posted to the Danish Mission at Yercaud, where the Church and Pastor’s quarters stood in the Assambur Valley. Besides being responsible for the Church services, Morten made regular trips to the surrounding villages. Accompanied by two or three catechists, he visited these in the early morning to preach to the people before they went out to work. This was mainly among the Malayalis, the hill-men, among whom he was to work for many years.


Morten with Indian Catechists

Early in 1891 he heard from his fiancée that she would be arriving in Madras, so he proceeded there, was married to her, and together they returned to the Mission station at Assambur, where they worked until late in 1893. In January 1893 their daughter, Anna, was born. Little did she know that she would have her mother with her for only a few months, for in November, Morten’s wife contracted typhoid fever and was hurriedly taken to Madras for proper treatment. In spite of this, she was called to her Eternal Home.

Morten returned to Assambur, convinced that spot was unhealthy. He found another one higher up the hillside, purchased and rebuilt it, calling it “Tabor”. With the residue of the money on hand, a rough cart-road was built, linking the new Mission quarters with the main road to Yercaud. Later, “Tabor” became the headquarters of the Danish Mission in the area.


At this time, Morten was in touch with the young lady doctor in the Danish Mission at Madras, Miss Elena D’Abrue. Late in 1894 they were married. The church congregation arranged a reception for them in ‘Tabor’, but this has to be cancelled as the bridal couple missed their train!

Dr. Ellen D’Abrue and colleagues in Madras, India

Morten and Ellen (Elena) on their wedding day
November 5, 1894

From December 1894 to early 1903 the regular work went on. From the end of their first year, a few months were spent on furlough in Denmark. There, the new Mrs. Andersen was no stranger for, having accompanied the sick wife of one of the other Danish missionaries, she learnt the language and took an extensive course in medical studies with a well-known doctor in Copenhagen.

On his return to India in 1895, Morten brought with him a Danish plough and an iron cooking-range. The former he used on land near ‘Tabor’, harnessing two of his own horses to it; the latter served us all for many years.

Morten in Danishpet

While working up in ‘Tabor’, Morten purchased some land and started a new coffee estate. Another, smaller one was paid for a little later. On these estates, Christian converts were employed and attended church services. Sick workers and others were attended to by Doctor Elena.

In 1900, a group of Malayalis induced Morten to take them down to the low-country, twelve miles from Yercaud. He did so and pitched his tent in a clear place near the present Shandy (market place). Later, on pressure of requests from his workers, who promised to come down from the hills, he purchased land about a mile from the railway station, Kadiampatti. The place had a notorious reputation for malaria, and station masters dreaded being posted there.

Some years later, Morten wrote to the manager of the South Indian Railway as follows:

“Your station masters are afraid of Kadiampatti because they connect it with malaria. I am a foreigner and live only a mile from it. If you change its name to Danishpet, you will find the station masters’ fears removed.”

With that, the matter was forgotten until one day our post master reported to my father, “Sir, the station’s name is now Danishpet”; and so it stands today.

The Danishpet Train Station (2007)

There were now two mission stations: ‘Tabor’ up in Yercaud and Danishpet in the low country, twelve miles apart. Using his horse, my father supervised both. With indigenous materials, a new bungalow was built and, nearby, a village sprang up and soon a post office, Danishpet.

This early period was not without difficulties: cholera broke out in the village and two or three lives were lost before it was checked; a fire destroyed a worker’s house; malaria cases had to be treated and its spread controlled. My mother came down for short periods, treating patients and dosing malaria cases with quinine. Her two children, Julianna (born in 1896) and myself, Richard (born in 1897), together with Anna, accompanied her at times.

By 1902 it became clear that the mission board and my father had differing ideas about the work and a break between them seemed inevitable. My father started building a house in a more healthy spot. The foundation for this was hardly laid when two of his children, Anna and Richard, contracted typhoid. He hurried home to help care for them and was informed by the doctor, “Your daughter may pull through, but there is no hope of your son’s recovery.” Just the opposite happened. My sister passed away. Her body was carried downhill and buried in a jungle clearing a quarter of a mile from the new house foundation.

At this time, my father and mother decided to break with the Mission. As a parting gift, they were given a bullock-tonga and they drove down to Salem in it with their daughter Julia (Julianna) and a baby son, Theodor, born on 11 January 1902.

Being convalescent, I was carried downhill in a hammock by the bridle-path, a shorter route. I remember only the branches of coffee trees brushing against the hammock.

In Salem, a house was hired for us and there we lived for some months. My father went to Danishpet to build a few “plague-huts” as he called them, for us. These huts were covered on top and on the sides by dried coconut palm leaves, supported by an inner framework of strong bamboos which grew plentiful on the banks of the River Sarabanga, a tributary of the Kauveri. While these huts were being completed, we moved from Salem to the bungalow at Danishpet. Then, on 23rd October 1903, we crossed the Sarabanga River over a wooden bridge built by our carpenter.

That very night there was a heavy shower and the carpenter’s bridge over the Sarabanga was carried away by the flood. To my mother this was the sign of no return. All through the years of trouble and difficulty, she never even considered a plan to quit ‘The Homestead’ as it came to be called in later years.


Morten (in the center, wearing a hat) with the villagers.

These early years were given to hard work and frequent adjustments called for by storm and stress. Our “plague-huts” looked all right, but summer days brought high winds. With no big trees to act as a wind-brake, one summer the high winds caused a distinct tilt in the line of huts. My father had to call in the village workers to tie rope to the bamboo uprights and pull till the house was again upright! Then local stone workers were called in to build a low wall to support the bamboos. After more than seventy years, a part of this kutcha (unrefined) wall still stands, recognised by its unskilled construction.

We had brought with us a large number of fowls which, we thought, were safely lodged in a house. One morning, we woke up to find quite a number had been killed. A wild cat had got in somehow and done damage, so further security measures had to be taken. At one time, the fowls were left in a big enclosure of split bamboos and at night secured in small rooms. A few special fowls were kept in overturned baskets, weighed down by big stones. Some of these were thrown down and the fowls missing. One night, we set a big iron trap secured to a peg in the ground. Next morning the caretaker came to find a unusally large wild cat with one of its forelegs caught in the trap. This prevented its escape, and my father came with his gun and shot it.

The weapon was indispensable, for it was used not only to provide fresh meat – hares, partridges, and jungle fowl were present in abundance – but against snakes, panthers, and wild pig. Pea-fowl were also common. As a boy, convalescing after typhoid, I was very nervous. Early one morning I was terrified on hearing most unusual sounds. I was quieted when told the sounds were made by pea-fowl enjoying a dance on a nearby hillock!


The Andersen Family
Ellen, Morten, Tante Johanne Andersen
Richard, Julianna, and Theodor

My father and mother were kept busy. He preached to his workers and others every Sunday; and every forenoon she attended to such people who came to her in increasing numbers. One woman came with a big stone in her head. She explained that, while cutting grass, a snake had bitten her and the stone would keep the poison down! The snaked proved to be a Russell’s viper, very poisonous. After my mother treated her for three days and nights, the woman recovered.

Another time, a group of Muslims came in a cart and took my mother to see a woman who was seriously ill in a village five miles away. As she had not returned by evening, my father took me on his horse by a short cut to meet my mother on the main road. Fortunately, we met her and decided to go home by the same short cut. My father left me on his horse in front, while my mother and he walked behind. Soon, about four hundred yards from the house, darkness overtook us. I took a wrong turn and we could not see where we were. Calling loudly, we got no reply, so my father called to me, “Son, take your hands off the bridle and let the horse go.” On my doing this, the animal took an about-turn and in a few minutes we were on the right path again! When not required for work, the horse grazed freely in these parts and was on familiar ground.

In their new venture, my father and mother had no income except what was produced on small portions of cleared land. By agreement with the Indian Government, jungle land covered with cactus had to be cleared in a specified time. They had no capital to do this, so a loan was arranged through one of my mother’s good friends. With this in hand, some new fields of cleared land were bought and cactus-covered portions were cleared. This was a slow process, for the cactus was heaped up in places, or in large pits, with alternate layers of vegetation. When dried, these heaps were set on fire, but this burning had to be employed about seven times before the field could be cultivated. However, the work went on. As time passed, the produce of the land increased, for it was virgin soil and produced abundantly.

The opportunity had come for renovating old buildings and constructing new ones. Carpenters, masons, and potters were engaged and materials like clay, lime, and timber were available on the farm itself and labourers not hard to employ. Tiles, bricks, and chunam (lime for mortar) were soon ready and work started. The old huts were pulled down and walled rooms, built with sun-dried bricks, soon came up and were roofed with timber and bamboos covered with thatch. The ceiling consisted of a big verandah, attached to the thatched portion, and continued northwards to give living rooms for my father and mother and their three children during the school holidays. (The Baldwin Schools in Bangalore had by then admitted us as boarders – my sister in 1905 and her two brothers in 1906 and 1908.) These new rooms were pukka, built with burnt bricks and roofed with tiles laid over a split-bamboo ceiling. Some of this still serves, even after more than 60 years. The big, open verandah served many purposes: for religious services, as a reception hall, and even for meals when visitors were in residence. A few years later, a small thatched house was added at the northern end of the new building. My Aunt and my sister occupied our rooms and we, the boys, occupied the new rooms during our school holidays.

The Andersen House in Danishpet


Tante Johanne Andersen

I add a few words about my only Danish Aunt, Miss Johanne Andersen, whom we called Tante (Danish for Aunt). Having lost her parents, and having no close relatives in her country, she sold her home in Denmark and came out to ‘Tabor’, Yercaud, early in 1902, to live with my parents. When they left at the end of the year, the new missionary at ‘Tabor’ allowed her to remain there until her room at Danishpet was ready at the end of 1903.

She made our butter, looked after the sugar and jaggery (raw brown sugar) and other things that had to be carefully watched. As a lover of animals, she cared for our dogs, cats, horses, and fowls, seeing that they were not starved even when supplies were short.

She was a lover of beauty and kept a fine garden of her own, watered only by herself. Plants were cared for like living creatures and forgotten ones watered even after midnight!

She moved about at night carrying only her lantern and was only once stung by a small scorpion – never bitten by a snake. One night, Tante noticed a light moving under a big tree near the house. Taking it to be a burning stick carried by a man going to do his night-duty, she ignored it. Next morning, one of our dogs was missing: the light under the tree had been the eyes of a leopard!

Tante only spoke her mother-tongue, but understood English and Tamil. Any Danish we still know was because we had to speak to her. She put away all our “lost” toys, and always had sugar or jaggery for us to eat.

She bore for years, with great patience and fortitude, strong bouts of rheumatic fever or, in its absence, sores on her leg which my mother attended to. She lived to see her first marriage ceremony – my sister’s – performed in the big verandah for her benefit. She passed away in her sleep in May 1936 and was buried at the Danishpet Church near my parents’ grave.


With all these constructions complete, work on a church was started. On completion, this was a large tiled construction supported by dried palmyra trusses fixed on brick pillars. These were built by our local carpenters. The western end of the church was left open to permit all-comers, caste or no caste, to come in and sit down. It’s completion gave great satisfaction. Their joy was not long-lived, for heavy rains fell one night, the soaked tiles made the trusses open outwards, the supporting pillars fell, and the roof settled down flat. Amid much sorrow and disappointment, it was dismantled and rebuilt on a smaller scale. This church stood and served the congregation for many years until it could no longer be used. Years later, the Andersen Memorial Church came up and was handed over to the Church of South India.

The Andersen Memorial Church (2007)

The regular work went on. As the years passed, some hard times had to be faced. As neighboring villagers grazed their flocks and herds on our land, they allowed their cows and goats to be milked by our men. With this milk, my mother made fresh cream-cheeses and sold these to the clubs at Salem, Coimbatore, and Madras. The sales helped them to tide over two lean years.

Later, a succession of monsoon failures made it necessary for my father to undertake construction work for the Forests Department. The last of these was a road from the foothills to the forest bungalow on the Javadi Hills near Tirupattur.

The work went on during a period of serious drought. At Danishpet, my father’s large herd of cattle were suffering under food and water shortage, so he ordered them to be driven up to the Javadi Hills. The move proved disastrous because the local people, not welcoming the strange herd, poisoned many of them. Only about sixty of the cattle returned home after the drought.

In 1919 my brother, Theodor, having finished high school, came home to help his parents who, now older in years, were beginning to feel the strain. The year proved to be a difficult one, for the rains failed again; but, before it ended, brighter days appeared.

Some years earlier, the friend who gave them a loan had visited Danishpet and, seeing the work they were doing, offered to count the amount as dead. My father, however, said he would wait and repay the loan. Now the friend passed away and the executors of his will sent in their claim. As it could not be met, the mortgaged portion of my father’s land was put up for auction. This failed, for the would-be purchasers offered very little.

The executors then approached the court to permit sale of all my father’s property. To prevent this, a good lawyer friend advised him to sell his property to friends and relatives to whom he owed any money. This he did. In the meantime, the director of a big planting company offered to settle with the executors. This he did and also paid a considerable amount to my father. Now the mortgaged part of his land belonged to the company and they asked him to manage it for them. After trying it for some time, he had to give it over to someone else to do.

Digging a well…

With money in hand, my father decided to dig three wells, connecting them with waterproof drains. In all this, my brother was able to help. He even undertook the sharpening of the workers’ tools – these were formally sent to a blacksmith, which caused work delays.

Theodor Andersen

At this stage, my father decided to send my brother, Theodor, to the Agricultural College at Coimbatore for training. He completed the two-year course there and returned to Danishpet where he worked until the end of 1927. At that time, with help from his aunts, he was sent to Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, to do his B. Sc. in agriculture.

Up to about 1920, my father had been working most of his land on the ‘varum’ system, the produce being shared between owner and tenant on a 50-50 basis. Because of his age, supervision became more difficult, so he induced his tenants to work on a contract basis paying him a fixed amount annually for the land they cultivated. This worked well in good years, but led to difficulties in a bad year, for no payments were made.

Ellen, Morten, and Johanne Andersen in later years.

Until he left for the USA, my brother did all he could to help my parents. After this, my sister, who was employed by the London Mission in Salem, used to come to Danishpet as often as possible. To the end of 1929, I was employed in North India. Then, to be of help to our parents, I resigned my post in Philander Smith College, Naini Tal, and joined Baldwin Boys’ High School as Vice-Principal. My wife and I were convinced that we had decided aright, for her father passed away in 1930 and my mother and father in 1931 and 1932, respectively. My aunt – my father’s sister, Johanne – was old and ill and had to be cared for after my mother’s death.

Theodor returned from America just after my father’s death in August 1931. From then until 1935 he was in Danishpet. I was glad of this because, in 1932, I was acting principal of the school, besides being a teacher. My brother was free to see to all business connected with the transfer of my father’s land to his children. Fortunately there was no dispute, for the will said, “This land is to be divided according to my wishes as known to my children.” … In December 1933, Theodor married Miss Olive Nagel and brought her to Danishpet to share his life on the farm.

Theodor and Olive Andersen
December 9, 1933

With our consent, my brother sold small portions of land and paid all my father’s debts. Then he interviewed the government officers concerned and had the necessary survey numbers apportioned and registered separately in the name of each of us. He saw that all the land was cultivated by the right people. He arranged for the renovation of the bungalow, doing much of the work himself.

After his education in America, Theodor planned schemes in a big way. With no reserve capital, these were impractical and were brought to an end by a serious explosion in a well caused by a careless worker. One man was killed and another seriously injured.

This incident led Theodor to accept a post in Conoor, as manager of a coffee estate. Later, he joined his wife and twin children. His land now included the old part mortgaged to the company and purchased by him on very easy terms. All this he left to be managed by our brother-in-law, Mr. Richard Phillips, whom my sister, Julianna, had married in 1935.


Richard and Julie Phillips, with niece, Joan Andersen

When Theodor’s children – now four in number – were ready for school, the family moved to Ooty (Ootacamund). After a short spell in the Anamalais, opening out a Chinchona plantation, Theodor returned to develop his land in Danishpet. This he did wisely and with great foresight. Selling parts of his land at good prices, he dug two big wells, built cement drains, installed oil engines, and brought his wetlands under irrigation, making them even independent of the tank water in bad years. Then he rebuilt my father’s first bungalow, renovated the granary, built a good cattle-shed, and new quarters for his assistant. He made trips to Ooty at intervals to visit his family and take up necessary supplies of rice, ghee, etc.

One night, he was alone in Salem Junction waiting for his train, when he was approached by a broker engaged by Mr. Sathianathan, a big bus proprietor of Salem, who was very keen on purchasing my brother’s farm. Being very impetuous by nature, my brother accepted the broker’s offer – less than a lakh of rupees – for a property which was later taken over by the government for five lakhs. They still hold it.

The Theodor Andersen Family
Farewell to Danishpet

My brother and family are now settled in the USA and are all American citizens.

Sometimes there were disasters like floods, fires, and accidents. In the early years there were floods. One I have mentioned previously, but that did little damage. Two or three others were bad, for they caused the bund (bank) of my father’s tank (water reservoir) to burst. In those days it was insecure. A flood brought down more water than could escape over the surplus well in a short time. This excess water found a weak spot in the bund and water ran through it, ultimately bursting it and releasing large quantities of water to overflow the cultivated fields below and cause great damage.

The Tank Overflowing

Before the jungle was cleared, during one very dry period, some careless person started a fire north of our place. Trees and plants served as dry firewood and the fire spread rapidly southwards. My father collected all the workers we had on hand to keep the fire off the buildings only about a hundred yards from the fire. Fortunately, after destroying the jungle, it faded out. No lives were lost.

During the days my brother was helping at Danishpet, he lived in the last, thatched room next to my father’s bedroom. He used to go out for shoots alone at night and return after our parents had gone to bed. One night he came into his room with his rifle loaded (strictly against orders). Somehow, the rifle went off and the bullet went through his mattress, setting it on fire. My father and mother rushed into his room and called out repeatedly – no answer. Then, suddenly, he recovered from his fright and put out the fire. Had something happened to him, he could have caused the burning of the whole line of houses!

In the summer of 1932, my parents were alone in Danishpet. My mother wrote that my father was not well and that the doctor advised his removal to the hills. On the weekend I went to Danishpet and took my father and mother up to our summer-house in Yercaud. Leaving them there with a good servant, and promising to return for the ensuing holidays, I returned to my work in Bangalore.

In a few days I received a distressing letter from my mother, asking me to come. Other staff members at my school kindly took over my duties and I did so. I found my father, not seriously ill, but suffering from a partial stroke.

Good friends advised us to take him to Bangalore and we came here by car and train. As soon as possible we consulted the civil surgeon who diagnosed the case as thrombosis and advised us to see to his affairs as quickly as possible. We did so. My brother was cabled to return on completion of his B.Sc. My mother came to be here with my father. Together we attended to him. On the 7th of August 1931, he seemed to have had another stroke and passed away.

Morten Andersen

When I informed my mother that my father’s body would be taken to Danishpet, her face brightened. After a short service in the school, conducted by his old friend, Dr. L.P. Larsen, we took my father by lorry to Danishpet. After his people had paid him their last respects, he was laid to rest near the church, a place chosen by himself in December 1930. (That Christmas – 1930 – he had given us all valuable gifts, saying they would be his last to us.)

In April 1932, my mother, who was with my brother at Danishpet, then informed me that she was not well and would like to see a doctor. I asked her to come to us in Bangalore, and a day or two after her arrival, we admitted her into the Lady Curzon Hospital. After a short spell there, she was allowed to come home to us and advised to be careful because of her heart trouble.

That very day, after lunch, she retired to rest and never got out of bed again. We found her there, obviously able to understand us, but unable to speak or move. On being called in, the doctor said she had a stroke and would live only a few more days. My sister and brother were wired for and came the next day. Theodor stayed with my mother that night and returned to Danishpet to prepare for her funeral.

She passed away on the 29th of May 1932. The text for the day from her Bible reading was Acts 9:36, “This woman was full of good works and almsdeeds which she did.” … All her medical work in Danishpet and surrounding areas were free and financially unaided. During World War I, she cured her patients with iodine and soda bicarbonate!

Ellen Andersen

As we did for our father, we did for her. After a short service at our home, conducted by the Methodist pastor, we took her body to Danishpet, where crowds of people paid their last respects. Rev. V. Hansen, our old friend from ‘Tabor’, came down and conducted the funeral service. She was laid to rest beside her husband with whom she had lived and served for thirty-eight years.

From 1935 to 1960, my sister, Julianna, and her husband, Richard Phillips, were in charge at Danishpet. I permitted them to manage my land also. During this period the fields were given over to tenants on a “varum” basis and small wells were dug for each of them so that crops could be raised even if the monsoon failed.

In later years, they started the Andersen Memorial Elementary School which was successfully conducted, with Mr. Richard Phillips as manager. At one time, over a hundred children attended regularly.

In 1961, a small boarding hostel was started for poor and orphaned boys and girls. In 1963, Mr. and Mrs. Phillips began to look around for someone to take over the property from them and yet continue the work.

A Sri P. Samuel was first conducted, who said he would do that with the help of some others, and also look after Mr. and Mrs. Phillips to the end of their days.

The church site, near the bungalow, was handed over to the Church of South India. The bungalow, all other buildings near it, together with nineteen acres of land, stood in my name, so my sister consulted me. As I knew nothing about P. Samuel, I advised her slow cautious action. Later, when I found that Dr. Sam Kamaleson, the noted evangelist, and others were ready to form the Bethel Agricultural Fellowship under Dr. Kamaleson’s presidentship, to take over Danishpet and run it as a Christian Evangelical Center, I agreed to the proposition.

So, in 1963, our old home was made over to them by deed of gift. The introduction of electricity, applied for by my father at least thirty years earlier, has been a great help, for wells with plenty of water and electric pumps have removed what was our greatest difficulty – water shortage. The Fellowship is going ahead now. The church has been rebuilt, hostels have been erected for boys and girls, and other buildings are coming up. God is blessing the work.

Richard and Winnifred Andersen

The Andersen Mission Compound

Satellite view of Danishpet


  1. alex said,

    Hi Julie I got into the blog by accident searching for DANISH PETT. I am a stamp collector , specialising in Denmark and aquired anearly Edward VII envelope 1906 addressed to Mrs E Andersen at Danish Pett Kaiitampadi .

    I wanted to find out what the Danish connection was . thanks to your blog I now Know.

    there is no letter with the envelope. To make sense of it as part of a display page in a stamp collection I would love to have a scan of the photo of Morten , Ellen & the three children from the article posted by you. I cannot down load it direct though I can copy bits of the text. Can you possibly send me a scan? ( private use not publication) regards Alex

  2. James Kanagaraj said,

    I studied in Montfort and hence interested learning more about Yercaud and its Heritage. Our Montfort Old Boys Group is now in facebook and we are sharing details of the Danish Connection- Tabor Mansion at Yercaud

  3. Solomon e.k. said,

    I was very much moved by the thrilling story of baf where god was the initiator of this wonderful story of transformastion

  4. A.Subramanian Isaac said,

    I am A.Subramanian Isaac, i was studied since from 1978 to 1993 in the Bethel at tirunelveli in Palyamkottai, Sayerpuram and Udangudi in Udangudi 1981 to 1993. The Lord christ sen the above all people for our salvation. I am giving lot of thanks for the people through my Lord Christ.

  5. max said,

    iam michaelraj vadiri from sayerpuram.

  6. Anthonisamy Spy said,

    I am S.P.Anthonisamy, an old student of Montfort School, Yercaud. I am one of the administrators of MONTFORT SCHOOL, YERCAUD Facebook page. At present I am doing a documentation on Vintage Yercaud and accidentally came across this well written blog. Excellent write-up. Col.. James Kanagaraj, another old boy of Montfort also had been mentioning a lot about Andersons and Tabor. We are really very proud of your family’s contribution to education.Moreso your connection with Yercaud. Great Work. God Bless!!

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