I got an old fashioned butt whooping over the whoopee cushion incident. Actually my grown brother in law, Joe, who happened to be a lawyer and later became a Judge of the Superior Court, help me set it up. But I was the fall guy.
After Bernard Henry, Ramus Freeman came on the scene. I’m not sure how long he was in Reynolds but I wasn’t around during those years. I had gone to the University of Georgia and lost my salvation by then. I do remember the church had a major falling out after he left. Some wanted him to stay. Others wanted him gone. And people who had been friends all their lives had a difference of opinion on the matter and got mad with each other.
But that didn’t last long. Rev. Allen Johnson came to town and he was the peacemaker. Everybody got along with Brother Johnson and he brought the flock together again. He also had a good sense of humor (See the Blog Post entitled “There Are Stories Under Those Monuments”).
I remember sitting in church next to Daddy one Sunday morning. It was plainly written in the church bulletin that the title of Brother Johnson’s sermon would be, “What Time is It?” Everybody in the congregation saw that but Daddy. He didn’t notice because he spent the entire time writing figures on the bulletin. It was obvious to me that he was not paying one bit of attention as to what was going on in church. I’m not sure if he was working on a deal or trying to figure out how to pay a bill, but he was doing some serious figuring. Finally the time came for the sermon to begin. Brother Johnson stepped up to the pulpit and began his sermon with these words, “What time is it?”
All of a sudden Daddy looked at his watch and blurted out loud for everyone to hear, “It’s 25 minutes til 12!”
Everybody in the church started laughing. I didn’t think Brother Johnson would ever be able to gain his composure to begin his sermon.
Steve Webb followed Brother Johnson. Steve was a young man and the Reynolds Methodists were not used to having a young up and comer preacher in the pulpit. He came in town with a lot of energy and the crowds got bigger and I'm sure the coffers got larger. He stayed at least the four year term and could have stayed for another term but he was a preacher on the rise. There were bigger, better paying churches waiting on him. He made a big impact in Reynolds but he did have a glitch or two during his tenure.
We had a funeral planned one cold winter day at Hillcrest Cemetery. The deceased had passed away in north Georgia and he was being buried in Reynolds on the lot with his wife's family. Neither he nor his wife had ever lived in Reynolds. Since the deceased was a Methodist, the family asked me to ask the Methodist preacher in town to conduct the funeral service.
Brother Webb came over to the funeral home the night before the funeral and met with the family. Since he knew none of the family, Brother Webb took meticulous notes during his conference with the family so he could do the funeral justice. He got everything correct except the last name of the deceased.
At the service the next day, Brother Webb started talking about Mr. Smith and the Smith family. There wasn’t a Smith in the crowd. I gave him a few minutes hoping he just got the name mixed up at the beginning but he continued to talk about Mr. Smith. I had to walk up to the podium and interrupt the service. I whispered in his ear, “His name is White.” It was at least 45 seconds before Brother Webb said another word but somehow he re-grouped and finished.
I also remember the day that Mama called me one Monday morning and asked me to come down to her house as soon as possible. I could tell she was upset and I was concerned so I dropped what I was doing and took off to their house. I was surprised when I got there and saw Steve Webb’s car in the driveway. He and Mama were in a serious conversation.
Brother Webb began to tell me about the church service the day before. He said he had preached a stem winder of a sermon. After he finished preaching he gave the invitation. Daddy immediately got up out of his seat and walked down front and told Steve he had something to say. I think Brother Webb thought that Daddy was about to confess a serious sin, so he gave him the floor. He said that Daddy turned to the congregation and announced, “We are having a bike-a- thon next Saturday in the park"...and he began to give the details of the scheduled event. Brother Webb said that Daddy ruined the entire service.
I sure hope nobody missed heaven because of Daddy’s untimely announcement.
In fact, if anybody in Reynolds missed heaven it wasn’t the fault of the South Georgia Conference of the United Methodist Church. They sent fresh preachers in every few years.
Some lasted four years. Some lasted only two years.
But my memories of the preachers of the Reynolds United Methodist Church will last the rest of my life.
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