Thursday, May 20, 2010

1950s SMALL TOWN LIFE: RACING FOR THE BAPTISTRY

July was always revival month for our church. That month, we worked every day on the house at Corbet, then rushed home to get ready for church during the one week revival. I started listening to the preacher about the second or third night, and for some reason though I had heard "preaching" all my life, it started to make sense. And I could feel a tug in my heart I'd never felt before.

On Wednesday, I found a few quiet moments in the midst of the hammering, board slamming, and sawing to talk with my mother.

"I'm ready to ask Jesus into my heart," I told her. "And I want to go down front tonight."

I wasn't really asking her approval, because I had already made up my mind, but I was glad when she squeezed me and said she was happy for my decision.

That night, when the congregation sang "Just As I Am", I walked forward, making public a decision I had reached in my own heart-to become a Christian. Brother Reames met me at the front with a big hug, and after some questions, he suggested I be baptized on Saturday, later that week.

That summer Saturday was a workday like every other day. We were on a tight timetable to get moved into the house before school started September 1st.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be baptized tonight," I reminded my parents about 4 o'clock. "Church starts at 6:30 tonight."

"We know, honey. We'll be there on time," my mother assured me. It wasn't much assurance coming from her because she was lateeverywhere.

I found my dad, pounding on a 2x4, framing the floor in the new living room.

"Don't forget I'm being baptized tonight," I reminded him.

He looked up and grinned. "I know," he said. "You know your mother and I were baptized out there in that tank after we married." He pointed toward the mossy green pond outside, always referred to in Texas as a tank. "That water never did clear up like it should have," he laughed, bringing chuckles from the other men working on the construction.

I didn't understand the joke, but I thought he would see that we got to church on time. He was usually punctual.

By 5 p.m., I was getting anxious, and I ran to the living room door, and balancing on the joists, walked across to the place my dad was working. He looked up and saw me, raised his arm to look at his watch, and said, "Let's call it a day, boys."

Mother, Daddy, and Haskell, one of the gin hands, loaded up in the front of the turquoise blue Chevy pickup. Phil, Stephen, Susan, Jan, me, and Greenie, one of the men helping us, hopped into the back of the truck. Daddy drove fast but expertly through the narrow blackdirt backroads from Corbet to Purdon. It took about a half hour so it was nearing 5:45 when we arrived.

Then, we had to take Haskell and Greenie home, so we stopped by each of their houses, letting them off, waving goodbye, and promising to see them early Monday.

Greenie's house was on the west side of town and ours was on the east, so as we whizzed from his house to ours, we passed the church where people were already gathering for the night service. Several of the kids we played with at church were there, and looked up with puzzled faces as we waved and yelled "hey!".

I heard Randy's yell that got softer as we sped away, "Heeeeeeey, aren't you going to be baptized tonight?"

Phil and Stephen stood upright, facing forward holding onto the cab, while Susan, Jan, and I held tightly to the sides, the truck racing down the road, spewing gravel and kicking up a dust trail that left the kids at the church coughing.

As soon as the truck stopped, everyone bailed out and ran for the house. Susan, Jan, and I ran to find clothes to wear to church, while Mother rushed into the bathroom and retrieved washcloths and towels. She ran a pan of warm water in the kitchen while one of the boys hopped into the bathroom for a superspeed bath.

We all started working on our faces, arms and legs, which were covered with sheetrock dust. Mother rushed in for a bath after Phil exited, and we girls just put our clothes on over any grit that was left. I was going to be baptized, so I wasn't too worried about any dirt that I missed; it would be washed off anyway.

When Mother was dressed, she gave us a sniff test, approved, and we zipped out the door, loaded in the car and sped to the church. Daddy had entered the bathroom, and he would come and bring the boys in a little while, after the first several songs were sung. He was punctual normally, but he was also fastidious and wouldn't have thought of just washing off like we did. Our cleanup was unusual, true, but dire circumstances dictated emergency measures.

We ran up the stairs, Mother leading the way, breezed into the church all the way down the aisle to the second row, and after causing five people to move about six feet to the left, we were all able to sit down.

Brother Reames, sitting up front on the platform, wore a bemused expression, and watching us as we hurried in, he hunched slightly forward like he wanted to laugh, but couldn't. Coincidentally, the minute we sat down, Mr. Smithen, the music leader, stood up and asked everyone to do the same. On the fourth verse of When the Roll is Called Up Yonder (we almost never sang the third verse of any song, which bothered me) my dad eased in to the pew, causing another shift to the left.

After a short sermon, I moved to the back of the church and got ready for the baptism. Jackie King was being baptized that night, too. I felt happy to show people the decision I had made.

After church, one of our neighbors invited the whole family over
to celebrate by eating watermelon . It made the night even more memorable, eating the cold pink melon, its sweet flavor seeping across my tongue, while I swatted at an occasional mosquito.

"Why did the Hubbards want to celebrate my baptism?" I asked Mother as we walked home from their house.

"Why shouldn't they?" she said.

"Well, they don't go to church, so I just thought they wouldn't care that I was baptized."

She hesitated a moment. "They're good people, hard working, and they treat people right. We can't know what's in a person's heart. That's between them and God. They were happy about your decision. That's all I know."

My heart felt warm and calm that night. It was a new feeling, and it would stay with me and often crowd out the anxiety that seemed so determined to be my constant companion. I was a child, but I knew I had made a really grown-up decision that day.














Installed

No comments: