Little Country Church

dennis

Jedi Council Member
When I was a child we were members of a small Methodist church. It was an older uninsulated wood frame clapboard building in a rural area but was one of the oldest in the area having been established probably around 1800. There was a small house as parsonage next to it but sometimes the ministers were circuit riders in the old Methodist tradition. Our church pretty much only got the young ministers in training right out of seminary school and they changed fairly often.

The building had electric lights but no plumbing. There were two privies out back in the woods. There was no air conditioning and only a propane space heater for heat. The congregation consisted of a mix of farmers, woodcutters and mill workers. The pews were informally claimed by the more influential members and woe to him who took a seat in the wrong place. In each pew there were 3 items; a Methodist hymnal, small envelopes to put tithes in if you didn't want others to see what you gave and a hand fan to use if it got hot. As I recall the fans always had an advertisement for the local funeral home printed on it.

In wintertime someone would arrive early and light the heater. After awhile the wasps that lived in the wall cavity would wake up and come out through the holes and cracks in the boards and start lofting around inside the sanctuary. Pretty soon there were dozens of them buzzing around.

One young minister we had was of the fire and brimstone persuasion. He would come down from the alter and work his way up the aisle getting up close and personal even yelling at and admonishing the children the message that we were born in sin and if we didn't do so and so there was no hope for us.

The warmer it got the more aggressive the wasps would get, attracted by the hairspray and tonics they would dive down suddenly on the delicious nectar below. The funeral home fans would be in everyone's hand and used to swat the wasps when they made their attack. There were yells and shrieks when one occasionally got through the defenses. The minister, not knowing this, would take his sermon up a notch thinking he had snatched a soul from the devil. It was hard to tell who had delivered the most venomous stinger, the minister or the wasps.

At the end of the sermon everyone brought a covered dish and ate together on picnic tables outside. It was some of the best food you could find anywhere.
 
Oh Dennis, yes, I remember it all. And my great-grandfather preaching in that little church in Hudson, Florida. I spent some time trying to find a picture of the old church, but could not. So here's my great grandpa, Rev. S. G. Meadows.

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Thank You Laura, Your Great Grandpa looks like a fine fellow. You were fortunate to have known him. I've been to the gulf coast of Florida once or twice and really enjoyed "old Florida" as well as the springs area. My wife grew up in Cocoa Rockledge and Orlando so I've been there a few times.

I stopped going to church at about age 14 and I guess have gone solo ever since in my spiritual quest.
 
It seems to be a time of Remembrance and Recapitulation, among many people I've noticed. That seems to be a sign of gathering up the past in preparation for a journey to the future. I don't really know how to put it, maybe a song will suffice.

 
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