Elizabethtown, Kentucky (1935 - 1940)
Our time at Prestonsburg was nearing the end. A call had come for the church at Elizabethtown. This was a practically new church. It had been started by a tent meeting held at the edge of town by Rev. and Mrs. C. C. Brown formally from Indiana, but they had been for some time at Kingswood, Kentucky. After the tent meeting, a group of people were interested in a holiness work being established. Some services were held in homes of interested people. Interest kept growing. It was evident that a permanent work was on the way; but the Browns felt they could not continue as builder and pastor, so the District Superintendent contacted Rev. Laurence Houston, who had recently graduated from God’s Bible School. He and his wife Edith came and felt definitely that God was calling them to the work. They conducted a revival in the Court House, then rented a hall nearby with rooms above for living quarters. The Houstons were consecrated hard working people. They had the ability to communicate with all classes. Many people were converted.
The great depression was only slightly beginning to lessen its grip, but God was making a way. A church was organized and the Houstons felt it was time the Pilgrim Holiness Church at Elizabethtown should own their own property. Much prayer and fasting preceded the buying of a lot on S. Mulberry Street. Many letters and appeals went out. Many times the response was not very encouraging, but the pastor and people felt that with God all things are possible; so the courageous pastor led his people as they dug the basement and mixed and poured concrete. Farmers donated trees. The men of the congregation felled them, sawed, and hauled them to the sawmill, then the lumber was hauled to the building site. In an incredible time, a small but attractive church was finished complete with belfry and colored glass windows. Attached to the rear was the parsonage. A small front porch, three rooms, and a small pastor’s study comprised the first floor. A small hall and two bedrooms were upstairs. There was great rejoicing as the pastor and people moved from the downtown location to the new church.
We first saw the church while we were at Carrolton. The Ministerial Convention was held there. The ministers of the district, their wives, and quite a few of the laity were entertained in the homes of the members and friends who usually gave them breakfast. The other meals were served in the basement prepared by Sister Houston and the church ladies; this also included volunteers from the ministers’ wives.
The parsonage had running water (cold), electricity, and a telephone. There was no bath, but a gravel bath to an outhouse. Those were the accommodations for the District Ministerial Convention. I guess we might call it the good old days. Anyway God’s blessing was upon us and our spirits were refreshed.
The camp meeting and assembly was held at Aspen Grove Campground. It is not far from California, Kentucky. There was a wooden tabernacle, a church building, a dining room with tables made of planks and plank benches for seating. By the dining room was a shack kitchen with a wood cook stove. I was the main cook there in 1935. Many helped with the cooking and dining room. We had some large skillets, but for cooking beans, potatoes, corn on the cob, etc., we had lard cans. Food was brought from all over the district. Chickens in coops were brought and we had to kill, pick, and dress them. I have cooked for as many as 200 on weekends. Fried chicken, potatoes, beans, fresh corn, and sliced tomatoes were served.
Several came early to get things ready for camp to begin Friday night. A tent had to be pitched for sleeping quarters for the men and boys. All benches were taken from the church to the tabernacle. Ladies over the district had made straw ticks. Fresh bales of straw were brought. The ticks were filled with straw and laid in rows on the church floor leaving aisles between. Everyone brought their own bedding, pillows, and wash basins. Some brought slop jars, for trips to the outside toilets at night were very inconvenient. Privacy for baths was hard to find, but we managed and enjoyed camp. Again I say, “Those were the good days.”
The special camp workers were entertained in nearby homes. There was old time camp meeting singing, praying, and shouting. There was old rugged gospel preaching with seekers at the altar. Many prayed through to glorious victory while others failed.
The camp of 1934 was held at Elizabethtown. A large tent was pitched near where the C. C. Browns had held the first meeting. Most of the visitors were entertained in homes of church members and friends. Meals were served in the church basement. Brother R. G. Finch was one of the evangelists and Brother and Sister Shields from our new church in Louisville were the singers. Brother E. E. Leadingham was reelected as District Superintendent.
The Houstons did a lot of charity work not only among the under-privileged people of Elizabethtown and the community, but had developed an overnight transit lodging. The deep depression had caused so much unemployment. People of the South went north to find work. People from the North went south to avoid the cold weather and to look for work. What the first start was I do not know, but the Houston’s were so big hearted that they wanted to help everybody. So with no advertising, people began arriving asking for food and shelter. The city came to their rescue donating cots and soliciting bedding. Money was given to them for food, for everyone came hungry and were usually given an evening meal, nothing elaborate, but wholesome food.
Brother Houston managed to read from the Bible and pray with his guests. They were taken to the basement and assigned their cot. In the morning, they were served a plain nourishing breakfast before they were sent on their way. I have been told that they housed and fed as many as thirty-five. When all basement space was taken, the overflow were allowed to sleep in the church which at least was better than outside in the winter. Their unselfish love and service won the admiration of many of the outstanding people of Elizabethtown and Hardin County.
Times were getting better and knowing they were leaving, they tried to discontinue this program; but when we moved in, we had quite a few come asking for shelter. I cannot remember of refusing anyone.
We met a loveable group of people at Elizabethtown. True, there were some problems, but the Lord led and helped Brother Bolender as he handled some very knotty problems. As a whole, the church stood united and steadily grew. We had some wonderful revivals. One of the first we had Brother Shields as evangelist. Many received spiritual help. Among those converted was a young lady who was employed in the county Adult Education program. She boarded with one of our members and attended the revival. She was under deep conviction and went to the altar. She wept and prayed earnestly, but left without victory. She continued to come each night and go to the altar. Different people dealt with and prayed for her, but at that time most of the holiness people had not adopted the quick method of talking seekers through to a shallow profession. We continued to pray and she continued to seek. One night as I dealt and prayed with her she said, “Sister Bolender, I can’t!” I replied, “Yes, Thelma, you can.” This was repeated several times while saints held on in prayer. Finally she came to terms with God and was wonderfully saved. She was later sanctified. She later came to the parsonage and lived for three years in our home. She was a great blessing to us and to the church. At one of the district meetings, she met a fine young Christian man who was called to the ministry. Their friendship developed into courtship, and before we left Elizabethtown, it was my privilege to unite them in holy matrimony. They soon took their first pastorate in Missouri and to this date, 1984, they are in pastoral service. Experiences like this are the greatest rewards possible.
So many interesting things happened during our years of service at Elizabethtown that I am at loss to even relate the high points. We worked among people of the poorest and illiterate class to some professional, business, and educational groups.
One incident lingers in our memory. One Sunday morning, the crowd was gathering and the time for Sunday School to start almost arrived when I glanced back and saw a very nicely dressed, distinguished looking gentleman enter the door. I felt great apprehension when one of our faithful (but very illiterate and sometimes was unintentionally very rude) members was first to greet him and give him a cordial welcome. I confess that when our brother led the way to the very front of the church and invited our visitor to sit beside him I thought that gentleman will never be back to our church. How mistaken I was. As he left the church that morning, he introduced himself to my husband saying he enjoyed the service. He became a regular attender and we soon learned he was a guard at the U. S. gold vault at Fort Knox. We afterward learned that he had previously tried the two largest churches in town, and for some unexplainable reason no one had greeted him, offered him a hymn book, or invited him to return. When he related this to Mr. Smoot who had an antique gun shop, the suggestion was made that he try the little frame church on South Mulberry. This he did the next Sunday. He soon moved his family to Elizabethtown and immediately enrolled his children in our Sunday School. Mr. Pope never joined our church but proved to be a blessing in many ways. The embarrassing occurrence on that Sunday morning taught me a lesson.
Church and Sunday School attendance had a steady increase each year. The church had a good working force, a great spirit of harmony, and love. If there were any cliques hampering progress, we cannot recall it. The standards of dress and conduct were very high in those days. We had some of the best evangelists who were neither radicalist or compromisers, but men of prayer and commitment to their calling. Their preaching was effective and usually resulted in seekers at the altar night after night. Many times the church was filled with shouts of praise as seekers prayed through to glorious victory.
We used many ways of promoting the church such as jail and county home services (a bit more refined than the poor house known in my childhood). Cottage prayer meetings were held and at times revivals were held in school houses out in the country. Our laity and especially young people were used in these services. At Elizabethtown, we started the plan of promoting an annual Sunday School rally. We had used this plan when pasturing in Kansas, but had not heard of it being done in the Kentucky District. We continued this as an annual event year to year. Our program varied sometimes; sometimes we secured an out of town speaker. One year by long range planning and hard work, we had a very effective program. We used our local adults, youth, and children. Another year, we were fortunate to secure the service of a family of six. Part of the program was truly religious entertainment, then we were drawn into the spirit of worship and communion. One song they sang as a family has come to me as an encouragement as down through the years we have faced times of crisis and discouragement, “God is working out His purpose.”
Our church was always filled on these Sunday School rally days. They were a continuation of the old-time all day meetings where everybody brought their basket dinners and all shared together. This not only helped to increase the Sunday School, but brought many wonderful friends to the church. Some were afterward saved and sanctified, and some joined the church. Soon other churches began having rallies; in a few yeas the annual Sunday School rally was almost a district wide observance.
I find it very difficult to try to write on account of our years at Elizabethtown. I could write a whole book about individuals and families that endeared themselves to us during those five years. Some who were so faithful and loyal now have grandchildren who are filling active important places in the church.
We can never forget one country home we loved to visit. When problems and activities mounted until we felt we must have a break, we would often tell the children when they returned from school, “We are going to Nichols.” They never protested though they knew there would be no young people or children. There was always a hearty welcome when we stopped the car. Many times the children did homework while the preacher relaxed by going to the barn with his host where feeding and milking were done, while I, like a younger sister visiting an older one, accompanied Sister Nichols to the kitchen where seemingly little effort and no fuss soon had country ham or sometimes delicious homemade sausage fried brown, but not hard, from which she could make that tasty southern red eye gravy served with flaky buttermilk biscuits. There were always vegetables fresh or canned. When we gathered around the table seated in those homemade split bottomed chairs, the children’s chins were scarcely three inches above the table. The preacher was always asked to give thanks for the food. We all demonstrated our appreciation for genuine country style hospitality. As Sister Nichols and I cleared away the table and washed dishes our host entertained the children and their father as well with stories of his younger days in Hart County mixed with backwoods folklore. One I easily recall tells of a minister’s call to a poor home. The minister accepted the cordial invitation to share the meal being prepared in the adjoining kitchen. The mother wishing to make the best possible impression remarked to an older daughter, “I can’t imagine what has become of our silverware. The children must have taken it out and lost it playing in the sand.” Whereupon a small boy spoke, “Aw Mom, you know we never had but five knives, Big Butch, Little Butch, Rare Back, Cob Handle, and Casey.” We were left to our own conclusion as to the mother’s embarrassment and the minister’s amusement. Before leaving we all had the blessed fellowship of worship in reading the Word and prayer. We returned home refreshed in body and spirit. This good man and wife had three sons and one daughter all married. We visited in all their homes. The parents have long since gone to their reward. All the sons have joined the parents, the daughter, her husband, and the three widows are still among our dear friends.
So many precious memories flood my mind after almost forty-five years. I must note another family relationship that was had and will always help to mold our lives and the lives of our posterity. Dr. and Mrs. C. F. Long were friends of the Houston’s. They and her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Walter Lyons, often visited the church during revivals and special meetings. They all belonged to the Methodist Church though the Lyons couple while living in Louisville, Kentucky, had been led into the experience of heart purity while attending the Nazarene Church. After they returned to Hardin County, they returned to the M. E. church. Violet, their only child while in her senior year in high school met Charlie Long. They later married and lived in Louisville while he attended medical school and served his internship after which they returned to Hardin County. He opened an office in Elizabethtown. By the time we took the church, he had developed a thriving practice. Many of our parishioners were his patients. He was dedicated not only to his practice and his family, but also to Christian principles. How happy we were for the first time in our lives to have a family physician who was a Christian not only as a church member, but also a real Christian. Brother Lyons taught Sunday School in the Methodist Church, but when strong opposition arose because of his teaching sanctification as a second work of grace, they began attending the Pilgrim Holiness Church regularly and he was elected teacher of the Bible class. He filled this office until his untimely and sudden death from a heart attack. We and the church felt our loss keenly. Mrs. Long was sanctified under the ministry of Rev. Howard Busby and afterward joined the Pilgrim Church where she served in many offices of the church. Dr. Long never joined but faithfully attended the church and liberally supported it. They regularly attended the District Camp and there he sought and obtained sanctification. He ran across the tabernacle shouting the praises of God. More than once he has called at the parsonage to ask Brother Bolender to call on a very sick patient who was unprepared to die. Their home was always open to ministers and missionaries. I taught their oldest daughter in Sunday School, never dreaming she would later be our daughter-in-law and the mother of seven of our grandchildren. Violet Long was a deeply spiritual woman. Our friendship deepened as years passed. She was like a sister. We shared our joys and sorrows. She entered Heaven’s portals just before Thanksgiving 1960. I think I shall always miss her until we meet again in the heavenly kingdom. About eight years later, Doctor Long died of a completely worn out heart. Heaven will be richer because of the dedicated unselfish lives of Dr. and Mrs. C. F. Long.
I am tempted to write in length of other precious friends and faithful members such as Bro. and Sr. R. L. Sherrard; his parents passed away while we pastured there. Now the fourth generation is growing up in the church. It would be impossible for me to do justice should I try to write of all the faithful ones; most have gone to their reward but we can count a score or more who are still faithful friends.
In those days, very few people had good paying jobs. Our salary was raised until when we left, we were getting $15.00 a week, but our people were loving and generous. Milk was delivered to our door each day. Most of our members were farmers who shared whatever they had including delicious cured hams. The church had regular monthly poundings. Our living quarters were small, but that seemed of little consequence for some way we always managed to have room for evangelists, missionaries, and whole families of relation. One very special visit was when my sister Vera Edwards came from Arizona. She has been a mother to us after Mother’s death. She went west and married in 1915, and this was her first visit back to Kentucky. My sister Myrtle and her daughter were with her. How wonderful it was to have them in our own home.
The great flood in 1937 still remains vivid to all affected by it. The Ohio River and all its tributaries flooded thousands of lowland acres. We had no way to reach Louisville. When the flood was at the highest, a telephone message came that Father Bolender was critically ill with flue; could Harry come? We prepared for his trip and as soon as possible he drove across town then drove on the railroad track (no trains were running) to intersect a road leading to Lexington and from there to Cincinnati where it was possible to cross the Ohio on only one bridge of the five. Sand bags had been hauled and piled to make that possible only a few hours before he arrived. By taking a longer higher route he made the trip safely. He stayed for five weeks helping to nurse his father back to health. This left me alone with home and church responsibilities. Our church family was very cooperative. We made it through.
In the Spring of 1940, we were nearing the end of five wonderful years of service. For four years he had received a unanimous recall. Every aspect of the church was on the upbeat, but Bro. Bolender began talking to me about us making a change. He always felt it better for a pastor to leave a church with conditions encouraging and progressive than to stay until a decline started. Simply this, leave while you are wanted, rather than stay until you are not wanted. He made his feelings known to the District Superintendent and the church board leaving no room for a question mark. He had a call to a church in St. Louis. That was the saddest and hardest farewell of all our ministry, unless it was Barbados. Rev. William Oden was called as our successor. We spent our last night with Brother and Sister Ferrin, a very godly couple. A few years later as they drove through Fort Knox on the way to Louisville, a plane malfunctioned failing to be airborne, crossed the highway at the instant the Ferrin car reached the spot. Everything immediately ignited. All four in the car were burned to a charred mass. Brother and Sister Ferrin had no rings on but the other two did. That was the only way they could be identified. That was the greatest tragedy the Elizabethtown Church ever had. Some things are absolutely beyond human understanding.
The great depression was only slightly beginning to lessen its grip, but God was making a way. A church was organized and the Houstons felt it was time the Pilgrim Holiness Church at Elizabethtown should own their own property. Much prayer and fasting preceded the buying of a lot on S. Mulberry Street. Many letters and appeals went out. Many times the response was not very encouraging, but the pastor and people felt that with God all things are possible; so the courageous pastor led his people as they dug the basement and mixed and poured concrete. Farmers donated trees. The men of the congregation felled them, sawed, and hauled them to the sawmill, then the lumber was hauled to the building site. In an incredible time, a small but attractive church was finished complete with belfry and colored glass windows. Attached to the rear was the parsonage. A small front porch, three rooms, and a small pastor’s study comprised the first floor. A small hall and two bedrooms were upstairs. There was great rejoicing as the pastor and people moved from the downtown location to the new church.
We first saw the church while we were at Carrolton. The Ministerial Convention was held there. The ministers of the district, their wives, and quite a few of the laity were entertained in the homes of the members and friends who usually gave them breakfast. The other meals were served in the basement prepared by Sister Houston and the church ladies; this also included volunteers from the ministers’ wives.
The parsonage had running water (cold), electricity, and a telephone. There was no bath, but a gravel bath to an outhouse. Those were the accommodations for the District Ministerial Convention. I guess we might call it the good old days. Anyway God’s blessing was upon us and our spirits were refreshed.
The camp meeting and assembly was held at Aspen Grove Campground. It is not far from California, Kentucky. There was a wooden tabernacle, a church building, a dining room with tables made of planks and plank benches for seating. By the dining room was a shack kitchen with a wood cook stove. I was the main cook there in 1935. Many helped with the cooking and dining room. We had some large skillets, but for cooking beans, potatoes, corn on the cob, etc., we had lard cans. Food was brought from all over the district. Chickens in coops were brought and we had to kill, pick, and dress them. I have cooked for as many as 200 on weekends. Fried chicken, potatoes, beans, fresh corn, and sliced tomatoes were served.
Several came early to get things ready for camp to begin Friday night. A tent had to be pitched for sleeping quarters for the men and boys. All benches were taken from the church to the tabernacle. Ladies over the district had made straw ticks. Fresh bales of straw were brought. The ticks were filled with straw and laid in rows on the church floor leaving aisles between. Everyone brought their own bedding, pillows, and wash basins. Some brought slop jars, for trips to the outside toilets at night were very inconvenient. Privacy for baths was hard to find, but we managed and enjoyed camp. Again I say, “Those were the good days.”
The special camp workers were entertained in nearby homes. There was old time camp meeting singing, praying, and shouting. There was old rugged gospel preaching with seekers at the altar. Many prayed through to glorious victory while others failed.
The camp of 1934 was held at Elizabethtown. A large tent was pitched near where the C. C. Browns had held the first meeting. Most of the visitors were entertained in homes of church members and friends. Meals were served in the church basement. Brother R. G. Finch was one of the evangelists and Brother and Sister Shields from our new church in Louisville were the singers. Brother E. E. Leadingham was reelected as District Superintendent.
The Houstons did a lot of charity work not only among the under-privileged people of Elizabethtown and the community, but had developed an overnight transit lodging. The deep depression had caused so much unemployment. People of the South went north to find work. People from the North went south to avoid the cold weather and to look for work. What the first start was I do not know, but the Houston’s were so big hearted that they wanted to help everybody. So with no advertising, people began arriving asking for food and shelter. The city came to their rescue donating cots and soliciting bedding. Money was given to them for food, for everyone came hungry and were usually given an evening meal, nothing elaborate, but wholesome food.
Brother Houston managed to read from the Bible and pray with his guests. They were taken to the basement and assigned their cot. In the morning, they were served a plain nourishing breakfast before they were sent on their way. I have been told that they housed and fed as many as thirty-five. When all basement space was taken, the overflow were allowed to sleep in the church which at least was better than outside in the winter. Their unselfish love and service won the admiration of many of the outstanding people of Elizabethtown and Hardin County.
Times were getting better and knowing they were leaving, they tried to discontinue this program; but when we moved in, we had quite a few come asking for shelter. I cannot remember of refusing anyone.
We met a loveable group of people at Elizabethtown. True, there were some problems, but the Lord led and helped Brother Bolender as he handled some very knotty problems. As a whole, the church stood united and steadily grew. We had some wonderful revivals. One of the first we had Brother Shields as evangelist. Many received spiritual help. Among those converted was a young lady who was employed in the county Adult Education program. She boarded with one of our members and attended the revival. She was under deep conviction and went to the altar. She wept and prayed earnestly, but left without victory. She continued to come each night and go to the altar. Different people dealt with and prayed for her, but at that time most of the holiness people had not adopted the quick method of talking seekers through to a shallow profession. We continued to pray and she continued to seek. One night as I dealt and prayed with her she said, “Sister Bolender, I can’t!” I replied, “Yes, Thelma, you can.” This was repeated several times while saints held on in prayer. Finally she came to terms with God and was wonderfully saved. She was later sanctified. She later came to the parsonage and lived for three years in our home. She was a great blessing to us and to the church. At one of the district meetings, she met a fine young Christian man who was called to the ministry. Their friendship developed into courtship, and before we left Elizabethtown, it was my privilege to unite them in holy matrimony. They soon took their first pastorate in Missouri and to this date, 1984, they are in pastoral service. Experiences like this are the greatest rewards possible.
So many interesting things happened during our years of service at Elizabethtown that I am at loss to even relate the high points. We worked among people of the poorest and illiterate class to some professional, business, and educational groups.
One incident lingers in our memory. One Sunday morning, the crowd was gathering and the time for Sunday School to start almost arrived when I glanced back and saw a very nicely dressed, distinguished looking gentleman enter the door. I felt great apprehension when one of our faithful (but very illiterate and sometimes was unintentionally very rude) members was first to greet him and give him a cordial welcome. I confess that when our brother led the way to the very front of the church and invited our visitor to sit beside him I thought that gentleman will never be back to our church. How mistaken I was. As he left the church that morning, he introduced himself to my husband saying he enjoyed the service. He became a regular attender and we soon learned he was a guard at the U. S. gold vault at Fort Knox. We afterward learned that he had previously tried the two largest churches in town, and for some unexplainable reason no one had greeted him, offered him a hymn book, or invited him to return. When he related this to Mr. Smoot who had an antique gun shop, the suggestion was made that he try the little frame church on South Mulberry. This he did the next Sunday. He soon moved his family to Elizabethtown and immediately enrolled his children in our Sunday School. Mr. Pope never joined our church but proved to be a blessing in many ways. The embarrassing occurrence on that Sunday morning taught me a lesson.
Church and Sunday School attendance had a steady increase each year. The church had a good working force, a great spirit of harmony, and love. If there were any cliques hampering progress, we cannot recall it. The standards of dress and conduct were very high in those days. We had some of the best evangelists who were neither radicalist or compromisers, but men of prayer and commitment to their calling. Their preaching was effective and usually resulted in seekers at the altar night after night. Many times the church was filled with shouts of praise as seekers prayed through to glorious victory.
We used many ways of promoting the church such as jail and county home services (a bit more refined than the poor house known in my childhood). Cottage prayer meetings were held and at times revivals were held in school houses out in the country. Our laity and especially young people were used in these services. At Elizabethtown, we started the plan of promoting an annual Sunday School rally. We had used this plan when pasturing in Kansas, but had not heard of it being done in the Kentucky District. We continued this as an annual event year to year. Our program varied sometimes; sometimes we secured an out of town speaker. One year by long range planning and hard work, we had a very effective program. We used our local adults, youth, and children. Another year, we were fortunate to secure the service of a family of six. Part of the program was truly religious entertainment, then we were drawn into the spirit of worship and communion. One song they sang as a family has come to me as an encouragement as down through the years we have faced times of crisis and discouragement, “God is working out His purpose.”
Our church was always filled on these Sunday School rally days. They were a continuation of the old-time all day meetings where everybody brought their basket dinners and all shared together. This not only helped to increase the Sunday School, but brought many wonderful friends to the church. Some were afterward saved and sanctified, and some joined the church. Soon other churches began having rallies; in a few yeas the annual Sunday School rally was almost a district wide observance.
I find it very difficult to try to write on account of our years at Elizabethtown. I could write a whole book about individuals and families that endeared themselves to us during those five years. Some who were so faithful and loyal now have grandchildren who are filling active important places in the church.
We can never forget one country home we loved to visit. When problems and activities mounted until we felt we must have a break, we would often tell the children when they returned from school, “We are going to Nichols.” They never protested though they knew there would be no young people or children. There was always a hearty welcome when we stopped the car. Many times the children did homework while the preacher relaxed by going to the barn with his host where feeding and milking were done, while I, like a younger sister visiting an older one, accompanied Sister Nichols to the kitchen where seemingly little effort and no fuss soon had country ham or sometimes delicious homemade sausage fried brown, but not hard, from which she could make that tasty southern red eye gravy served with flaky buttermilk biscuits. There were always vegetables fresh or canned. When we gathered around the table seated in those homemade split bottomed chairs, the children’s chins were scarcely three inches above the table. The preacher was always asked to give thanks for the food. We all demonstrated our appreciation for genuine country style hospitality. As Sister Nichols and I cleared away the table and washed dishes our host entertained the children and their father as well with stories of his younger days in Hart County mixed with backwoods folklore. One I easily recall tells of a minister’s call to a poor home. The minister accepted the cordial invitation to share the meal being prepared in the adjoining kitchen. The mother wishing to make the best possible impression remarked to an older daughter, “I can’t imagine what has become of our silverware. The children must have taken it out and lost it playing in the sand.” Whereupon a small boy spoke, “Aw Mom, you know we never had but five knives, Big Butch, Little Butch, Rare Back, Cob Handle, and Casey.” We were left to our own conclusion as to the mother’s embarrassment and the minister’s amusement. Before leaving we all had the blessed fellowship of worship in reading the Word and prayer. We returned home refreshed in body and spirit. This good man and wife had three sons and one daughter all married. We visited in all their homes. The parents have long since gone to their reward. All the sons have joined the parents, the daughter, her husband, and the three widows are still among our dear friends.
So many precious memories flood my mind after almost forty-five years. I must note another family relationship that was had and will always help to mold our lives and the lives of our posterity. Dr. and Mrs. C. F. Long were friends of the Houston’s. They and her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Walter Lyons, often visited the church during revivals and special meetings. They all belonged to the Methodist Church though the Lyons couple while living in Louisville, Kentucky, had been led into the experience of heart purity while attending the Nazarene Church. After they returned to Hardin County, they returned to the M. E. church. Violet, their only child while in her senior year in high school met Charlie Long. They later married and lived in Louisville while he attended medical school and served his internship after which they returned to Hardin County. He opened an office in Elizabethtown. By the time we took the church, he had developed a thriving practice. Many of our parishioners were his patients. He was dedicated not only to his practice and his family, but also to Christian principles. How happy we were for the first time in our lives to have a family physician who was a Christian not only as a church member, but also a real Christian. Brother Lyons taught Sunday School in the Methodist Church, but when strong opposition arose because of his teaching sanctification as a second work of grace, they began attending the Pilgrim Holiness Church regularly and he was elected teacher of the Bible class. He filled this office until his untimely and sudden death from a heart attack. We and the church felt our loss keenly. Mrs. Long was sanctified under the ministry of Rev. Howard Busby and afterward joined the Pilgrim Church where she served in many offices of the church. Dr. Long never joined but faithfully attended the church and liberally supported it. They regularly attended the District Camp and there he sought and obtained sanctification. He ran across the tabernacle shouting the praises of God. More than once he has called at the parsonage to ask Brother Bolender to call on a very sick patient who was unprepared to die. Their home was always open to ministers and missionaries. I taught their oldest daughter in Sunday School, never dreaming she would later be our daughter-in-law and the mother of seven of our grandchildren. Violet Long was a deeply spiritual woman. Our friendship deepened as years passed. She was like a sister. We shared our joys and sorrows. She entered Heaven’s portals just before Thanksgiving 1960. I think I shall always miss her until we meet again in the heavenly kingdom. About eight years later, Doctor Long died of a completely worn out heart. Heaven will be richer because of the dedicated unselfish lives of Dr. and Mrs. C. F. Long.
I am tempted to write in length of other precious friends and faithful members such as Bro. and Sr. R. L. Sherrard; his parents passed away while we pastured there. Now the fourth generation is growing up in the church. It would be impossible for me to do justice should I try to write of all the faithful ones; most have gone to their reward but we can count a score or more who are still faithful friends.
In those days, very few people had good paying jobs. Our salary was raised until when we left, we were getting $15.00 a week, but our people were loving and generous. Milk was delivered to our door each day. Most of our members were farmers who shared whatever they had including delicious cured hams. The church had regular monthly poundings. Our living quarters were small, but that seemed of little consequence for some way we always managed to have room for evangelists, missionaries, and whole families of relation. One very special visit was when my sister Vera Edwards came from Arizona. She has been a mother to us after Mother’s death. She went west and married in 1915, and this was her first visit back to Kentucky. My sister Myrtle and her daughter were with her. How wonderful it was to have them in our own home.
The great flood in 1937 still remains vivid to all affected by it. The Ohio River and all its tributaries flooded thousands of lowland acres. We had no way to reach Louisville. When the flood was at the highest, a telephone message came that Father Bolender was critically ill with flue; could Harry come? We prepared for his trip and as soon as possible he drove across town then drove on the railroad track (no trains were running) to intersect a road leading to Lexington and from there to Cincinnati where it was possible to cross the Ohio on only one bridge of the five. Sand bags had been hauled and piled to make that possible only a few hours before he arrived. By taking a longer higher route he made the trip safely. He stayed for five weeks helping to nurse his father back to health. This left me alone with home and church responsibilities. Our church family was very cooperative. We made it through.
In the Spring of 1940, we were nearing the end of five wonderful years of service. For four years he had received a unanimous recall. Every aspect of the church was on the upbeat, but Bro. Bolender began talking to me about us making a change. He always felt it better for a pastor to leave a church with conditions encouraging and progressive than to stay until a decline started. Simply this, leave while you are wanted, rather than stay until you are not wanted. He made his feelings known to the District Superintendent and the church board leaving no room for a question mark. He had a call to a church in St. Louis. That was the saddest and hardest farewell of all our ministry, unless it was Barbados. Rev. William Oden was called as our successor. We spent our last night with Brother and Sister Ferrin, a very godly couple. A few years later as they drove through Fort Knox on the way to Louisville, a plane malfunctioned failing to be airborne, crossed the highway at the instant the Ferrin car reached the spot. Everything immediately ignited. All four in the car were burned to a charred mass. Brother and Sister Ferrin had no rings on but the other two did. That was the only way they could be identified. That was the greatest tragedy the Elizabethtown Church ever had. Some things are absolutely beyond human understanding.
