Author’s Note: It has been some time since I picked up the threads of this story due to life being more hectic than usual! However, it has been on my mind and heart and so it is with great pleasure that I take it up again!
When Moving Day came in June of 1962 the Family was really excited to head toward Statesboro in the 1957 BelAir Chevrolet and the 1950 Mercury; the journey was not long and was made without incident.
When we pulled into the yard of the address we had been given on Highway 80, we discovered that the Church had begun using the two story brick parsonage beside the Church building as offices and Sunday school rooms, and that they were currently renting this house as a parsonage.
There was a large crowd on hand to greet us, in fact they were spilling from the small house! We soon discovered that the house had 3 bedrooms but only one bathroom! It was not centrally cooled, but did have a window AC unit or two and an attic fan. The beds were not on bad frames, but were rolling on wheels! There was a small sunroom across the back and a kitchen, small dining room and living room completed the house.
Many of our things could not fit into this house ( Dad’s books were taken to the Pastor’s Study in the old parsonage next to the Church); the rest of our boxes were put into storage! We missed having our familiar things around us and visible, but they just simply would not fit. However, we had managed to keep out the silver service given to us as a leaving gift in Quitman, so that was homey.
The kitchen was adequate for cooking, so we were able to settle in with good meals to enjoy. One of the most delicious dishes Dad cooked there was baked ham with red-eye gravy and grits! It was mouthwatering! Dad fixed this treat when his Brother Milton’s Son Herbert came to eat with us; he was a student at Georgia Southern and was happy to get a home cooked meal!
All in all we made the best of the situation .
When the first Sunday morning came and there were four adults trying to get ready for the first Sunday in a new Church, and just one bathroom, it was certainly less than ideal!
Dad had found out that ministers in this Church wore formal liturgical vestments and so began a new adventure in worship, formal worship!
Dad had been able to order a liturgical shirt from Cokesbury and that first Sunday morning Grace stood perliously on the foot of their bed to fasten the liturgical collar and place the shirt studs which held it in place. The surplice or cotta which was worn over the shirt and pants was waiting at the Church. Somehow we made it!
Next time: more about the Service itself !