Pap was the name that all in our small community respectfully called our elderly neighbor along with his wife, Mam who faithfully followed his lead in life's endeavors of some forty to fifty years. Pap was eighty nine years old when he died. Everyone seemingly agreed that smoking Prince Albert tobacco had finally caught up with him as some even laid claims that he had smoked the stuff since he was but eight or nine years old.
I can distinctly remember the missionary preacher and how he attributed Pap's bad health and early demise to his life style. He preached on and condemned drinking moonshine whiskey and smoking tobacco as the bad things that people do to destroy their health and send their souls to hell. Since Pap never drank whiskey, it had to have been the Prince Albert.
The first night's preaching, as was the custom, was held at Pap's home. His body was taken to the Regular Baptist Church for the second night of preaching. The women of the community each brought food for the wake held at the church. To not bring prepared food to the church could and always did cause bad feelings that would not soon be forgotten. To bring poorly prepared food could bring about very negative gossip because nearly everyone in the community attended the wake at the church. The best food you could possibly find in our community was brought and consumed at church functions. Everyone came and partook in the abundance of food with the missionaries eating more and longer than anyone else. They apparently believed in portioning their food to come out even as well as cleaning their plates at least until all the food was gone.
The preachers took turns preaching as directed by the pastor. Anyone who wanted to preach at a funeral or memorial meeting was allowed, including those who had been denied ordination by the church officials along with spiritually ordained individuals. Only those ordained by the church were allowed to preach at regular scheduled services. The most frequent reason for denial of ordination was "a man who has two living wives". Then there were those who had visions and other spiritual experiences that had in their own opinion, spiritually ordained them. Preachers from other denominations were also allowed to speak at wakes and memorial meetings. This was when the missionaries got their turn at preaching and how I learned we were all pagans; the missionaries said we were.
Pap was buried in the family cemetery along with all his ancestors of the last 150 to 200 years. The next order of business for the elders and officials of the church following Pap's funeral was to set a date for an annual memorial service in his memory. This was a rite reserved for the beloved patrons of the church.
Regular church services were and are still held on the third Saturday and Sunday of each month thus leaving three out of four weekends each month open for memorial services along with other special services to be scheduled.
Memorial meetings are held outside on the cemetery grounds during warm weather. Food is brought by all members of the family and by many of their friends. The food is served on long tables on the grounds. These services are announced as "all day meetings" and "dinner on the ground".
Pap's memorial was set for the second weekend of September to he held at his family cemetery. It was within 200 yards of and on the hill above the old home place where Pap was reared. This was where everyone brought the food to be kept until time to feed the congregation at the cemetery.
Most people showed up for church before nine o'clock and dinner was served between eleven and twelve o'clock. Pap's daughter's oldest child was left with the food and given strict orders to allow no pilfering. His first memorial was a magnanimous occasion as far as food. By September the gardens had produced their bounty. Green beans, tomatoes, potatoes and any other garden produce you can think of was available in abundance and prepared in the most appetizing form. Frying chickens were ready by the dozens. Chicken and dumplings were prepared by the gallons and kept warm. Hundreds of cakes, dried apple hand pies and banana puddings were placed on a large table in the dining area. They left Marie, a seventeen year old grand-daughter of Pap, to keep the food safe from any would-be moocher.
Three of my brothers, two cousins and I had cased the house and food as it arrived. The fact that we relished good food was but one reason to raid the house; we had been challenged. Of course we had planned the invasion for a week or longer; working to find out all the necessary information needed for a successful scheme. We decided that one of us would entertain Marie while the rest confiscated the food and moved it over by the creek where we'd have our own "dinner on the ground".
Marie was a real pretty girl but she had a very bad speech impediment. I was elected to do the entertaining. I was fourteen and nearer Marie's age the other boys insisted.
"Well how 'n heck will I get 'er to let me in the house?" I asked.
"Just walk right in 'n' tell 'er ye want a drink o' water," cousin Carl suggested.
"Yeah," replied my brother Jack, "and then sit down a while 'n' drink the water".
So off I went. I walked into the house and said, "I'm real thirsty. Do you have any cold water?"
Marie said something and started through the house. I followed her into the kitchen. She went to the ice box and started preparing a pitcher of iced water. She apparently had already drawn a bucket of water from the well. Marie talked the whole time and I hadn't understood one word of what she'd said. She poured me a glass of water. I took it, thanked her, sat down on the bench by the table and drank some of the water.
"Boy, that's so good," I complimented. Marie then said something and filled my glass again. Moments later, through the window, I saw Jake waving for me to get out of the kitchen area. So I got up and walked into the next room and Marie followed with my iced water still jabbering stuff I still hadn't yet understood a word of. I would just agree with her the best I could by saying "Yeah" and nodding positively to whatever I heard. I drank up the water in my glass and Marie promptly filled it once more.
I had begun to realize that I could only drink so much water. I heard the kitchen door open and I was afraid that I was going to get caught so I asked, "Is that a new dress?"
"Yes, Yes," Marie answered sticking out her feet for me to see. "yeah," I said, "and new shoes, too." She shook her head positively and talked wildly. "Real pretty," I complimented. I pointed toward the pictures on the wall and asked, "Who are those people?" She explained who each person was and for once I understood somewhat of what she'd said mainly because I already knew who most of the people were. Then she nodded for me to follow her upstairs where she opened a big trunk and dumped a couple of hundred pictures on the floor.
I sat down on the floor near the pictures and Marie sat next to me. She lifted her dress so as to not sit on it and propped her legs up. When she caught me looking at her privates, she smiled and I smiled back. Within fifteen or twenty minutes Marie taught me more than any fourteen year old boy should ever know.
We finally went back downstairs leaving pictures all over the floor. I told her, "You're somethin' else," and she spoke and shook her head in agreement. With that comment, she lead me to the porch swing and pointed for me to sit. So I did and she did, too, just as close to me as she could get.
I wanted to leave but I had to give the boys plenty of time. I put my arm on the back of the swing behind Marie. She laid her head on my shoulder, wrapped both arms around my middle and hushed right up.
"Aren't you goin' t' church?" I finally asked.
"No," she shook her head.
"Well, I've gotta go t' church. Mom wants me t' help 'er with the children," I lied.
She didn't do or say anything but she seemed to just hold on tighter.
"I've gotta go. Mom won't know what t' think. I'll tell ya what, I'll slip off 'n' come back at first chance."
That seemed to please her. She let me go and I headed up the path toward the cemetery. The path was visible from the house to the meeting sight so I decided that I would walk to where the church group was and come back down the hill a way Marie couldn't see me.
I could hear the melancholy chant of the preacher as I walked up the path. When I got to the meeting I recognized the preacher as Mam's brother who was spiritually ordained. The group began a song. This was their way of telling the preacher that they wanted him to quit his sermon and sit down. They were "singin' him down."
When I reached the midst of the gathering, I could clearly hear the preacher. He shouted, "De Lord have bent so good t' me heah t'day. Heah wid mine fam'ly. He have blessed me mighty. He moved on me 'n' tolt me what I'm needed t' say!" and the whole time some were still trying to sing him down.
Mumblings of disbelief came from some sectors within the crowd while the "Amen corner" was even quiet as he went on.
"I'ms look to de Lord fer ever' fing. De Lord is mine strent. He gifts me power. Iffin de Lord gift me de power, I'm 'd root dat beech tree up," he shouted while pointing at a large tree near the edge of the cemetery.
Uncle Wash' squinted as he looked over at the tree then replied, "Ummm, Ye shit. Hit'd take a bulldozer to root 'at beech tree up."
The group finished their song while shaking hands with and hugging those nearest to them.
I made my way back down the hill and out of sight from the house. I was careful that I wasn't seen crossing the road to reach the creek bank. The boys were where they were supposed to be. They hadn't waited to eat the food, though, and the kettle of chicken and dumplings was half gone. There was plenty of fried chicken; all good pieces.
"We got the preachers' batch," Jack sniggered.
There was two big bowls of banana pudding, six custard pies and a big pan of peach cobbler, most of which hadn't been touched. We ate it all, though, and then worked our way back to the meeting where we began mingling with the congregation way before time for the food to be brought out to eat.
We were all going to be helpful and carry food up the hill then it dawned on me that Marie was waiting for me. And there her mother was leading the way so I got out of sight. Needless to say, I didn't carry any food nor did Jack or Carl.
That's when the teasing began.
"What's the matter with you, boy? Don't you know that girl likes you? Couldn't ye tell?" laughed Jack.
Then I realized the rascals had watched me during the whole escapade.
"Tell me what all she said," Carl sniggered.
"I don't know," I told him.
"She's a might tongue-tied but awful perty, ain't she."
"Yeah, she's perty alright, but I ain't a goin' back over there."
"Got on them new shoes and anew dress," chuckled Jack, "and a waitin' fer ye, too."
It dawned on me then that not only had they watched me but they knew more about Marie than I did. They knew from the beginning what I was in for.
Once the food was finally all gathered at the grounds and displayed, everyone kneeled while one of the preachers returned thanks for a half an hour longer. Then the whole congregation lined up to feed themselves. The preachers were in front, followed by the men, then the children, and the last to eat was the women while they still attended the needs of the men and children. After an hour and a half of eating and socializing, the preaching began anew.
All us boys had eaten again and were ready to go home or at least someplace else. When we started back down the path, I realized as did the other boys that Marie might see me, but I decided that if I had to, I'd run. I was very anxious to get past that house. All of my fears were relieved, though, when I saw Marie sitting on the porch swing. Beside her sat a fellow we knew. He's the same young man Marie married just a few months later. She had her head propped on his shoulder and both arms wrapped around his middle. They both seemed perfectly content. Marie gave a mischievous grin as we momentarily chatted with her intended.
I took a lot of teasing from the boys about being shot out of the saddle, but everyone came out happy.
The next week down at the store, we learned that the Combs boys had stolen food prepared for Pap's memorial. Dad was there. No one said anything. He turned and gave us boys that knowing look then turned away.
Pap's memorial is still held in the same place. The faces have changed. The beech tree still shades a portion of the cemetery. The old house really hasn't changed much. There's still a swing on the porch. Last year when I attended, I couldn't help noticing that even though the faces were different the characters had not changed.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Pap's Memorial
लघु कहानीDinner on the ground. Old fashion mountain tradition. Religion. Heritage. Humor.
