Oklahoma Baptists with Middle Tennessee Roots.

More Cousin Barney on Hughes County Oklahoma Baptists-------------------
Ever so often I get a story from someone who gives me permission to pass it on to you. This one is from Barney Smith a distant cousin of the Gentry persuasion whose family went to Oklahoma and then on to Texas. He tell about country life as a Baptist Boy and except for the name “Baptist” and the piano in the corner could have been any rural church of Christ in the Upper Cumberland of Tennessee.
Hughes County Baptists-------
Since I am an old dude nearly seventy years old, I hope no one will hold any inaccuracies or well meaning prevarications against me as I relate this minor piece of history concerning Hughes County, Oklahoma. My earliest recollections of this area was about 1945 and the country was still finishing up World War II. My ancestors on both sides of my family migrated to Oklahoma almost immediately after it (the “Indian Territory”) was opened up to whites in the last two decades of the 19th century. They came from Tennessee, Georgia, Indiana and Texas and most of them were escaping the conditions of the aftermath of the civil war. Some of them participated in the Land Runs and all of them came with the hope of cheap land. They were all poor and they were all Baptists of one stripe or another. Most of them were “tenant farmers” and would get upset if someone referred to them as a “sharecropper”. Sharecroppers and tenant farmers both rented farms on a percentage basis, usually from a bank or wealthy landowner. Tenant farmers owned their own equipment and a couple of mules or draft horses and the equipment was very primitive, usually consisting of a middle buster, harrow, cultivator, wagon , and cotton planter. All of these devices were horse drawn. A Sharecropper had no equipment and was therefore more at the mercy of his landlord. Truth to tell, there was very little difference in a sharecropper and a tenant farmer. Most of the farms were 40 acres and very seldom exceeded 80 acres. Most of the families that existed on theses farms had eight or nine kids and all were expected to contribute to the well being of the family. Today they would be referred to as “subsistence” farmers but in rural Oklahoma it was a way of life.
They lived in seven or eight hundred square foot houses that were plenty cold and drafty with no lights or heat except a wood stove. They mostly ate & slept there with all of their daylight hours being taken up by farm chores. A boy that hung around the house all the time was generally considered sissified. A girl could get away with it if she helped her mother. By 1930, the “okies” had pretty much worn out the land with their poor farming practices. On top of that, it didn’t rain much in the thirties and the dust bowl and depression were in full force. Electricity did not come to rural Hughes County until about 1946 and at the same time Hughes County sons were returning from World War II. My father and several uncles and cousins were all involved in that great struggle and blessedly all returned home unscathed and the resulting reunions stand out in my mind. But things changed in a big way after that as they all found jobs and opportunities in larger cities. Almost none of them stayed in Hughes County but my grandparents on both sides of my family stayed there for the rest of their lives.
As rural and backward as it sometimes was, rural life in Hughes County boasted communities that were real and caring places. Each community was dominated by a Baptist Church and everyone attended. One side of my family was Missionary Baptist and another side was Freewill Baptist and some of them had Primitive Baptist leanings. None of these churches had a full time preacher and Sunday services were usually performed by itinerant preachers. Some of these preachers returned from time to time and were well known in a lot of the communities. Some of their preaching was pretty good and some of it would scare the daylights out of you. I recall Brother Riley Simpson who preached at Prairie View Baptist once in awhile and affected an English accent. He began every service in the same manner. “I am indeed happy to be here”. When he said it, it sounded like he was “hoppy” to be here and it would cause suppressed giggling among the younger set. I recall him telling about Balaam and his talking donkey. Balaam was beating this recalcitrant beast when God had an angel speak to Balaam through the donkey. Brother Simpson who of course had no public address system was warming to the story and he thundered, “God did not speak directly to Balaam.” Then he said it, “God was speaking through Balaam's (donkey, only he didn't say donkey)”. Well!! It was mighty quiet for a minute or two and it seemed to me that for some reason everyone had to cough. One or two were “coughing” so hard that they had to leave the building. Most of these churches purchased Sunday School materials from the Southern Baptist Convention but otherwise had little to do with them. They would have been appalled at having any organization telling them how to run their church or what to believe. Except for a piano, they for some reason, did not countenance musical instruments at church. They would have been dumbfounded at the idea of building a gymnasium or buying a fleet of buses. They had outdoor segregated restrooms and the church property had no fancy landscaping. The church building and grounds were kept in immaculate condition by the members of the congregation. My grandfather mowed the grass every Saturday so it would look presentable Sunday morning. Most of the community attended church twice on Sunday and again on Wednesday evening (prayer meeting). Nobody loves ice cream more than a Baptist so there was an “ice cream social” usually about once a month at someone’s home. These were wonderful affairs where there would be several different kinds of homemade ice cream and if it was late summer, someone would bring four or five 50 or 60 pound watermelons. Everyone would be outside and the kids would be all sugared up and going nuts.
Anti alcohol pledges were part and parcel of all these communities. My Grandpa & Grandma Smith attended Big Spring Missionary Baptist Church and their parents helped found this church. Grandpa was a deacon and Grandma played the piano and led the singing for 40 years. Grandma put together a quartet with her friends and for awhile played 15 minutes a week on McAlester radio. This little show was of course sponsored by a funeral home. I loved spending weeks in the summer when we would travel to churches all over the county to “singings”. Unfortunately none of this talent rubbed off on me but I have had a love for gospel and traditional music all my life. Grandma and Grandpa didn’t believe in working on Sunday. Grandpa told me that he plowed on a Sunday one year and his crop failed. Grandma would get up about 5am on Sunday and fix breakfast while Grandpa did the barn chores. After breakfast she started on Sunday dinner. All on a wood burning stove. Seemed like working to me. She was usually the congregant that enticed the preacher home for Sunday dinner and was always pleased if she could feed the preacher. Nobody ever heard of lunch. We ate breakfast, dinner & supper. Grandma was a wonderful cook and always fixed fried chicken on Sunday. Chicken was not an everyday affair like it is now. Chicken was reserved for Sunday and any preacher that ever had my grandma’s fried chicken would be back. Daddy told of coming home late on Saturday nights and finding a preacher in his bed. He knew what Jimmy Dickens was singing about when he sang “Sleeping at the foot of the bed”. It was a way of life that is gone for good now. All The churches are gone and the little farms have been absorbed into cattle ranches.
Barney Smith
4/2010
Barney, I would have thought they taught those preachers how to love fried chicken in preacher school, but in those days most Baptist Preachers around here didn’t go to preacher school. They were “called to preach” and my dad in a most politically incorrect way, opined that “seems like those Baptists always get called during tobacco cutting season.” He like to tell the story of one young fellow down in west Tennessee who came in and told his Daddy, “Pap, I think I just got the call to preach.”
“Why’s that?” the old man inquired.
“I saw a sign up in the sky, clouds that formed the letters GPC, and I figured it meant “Go Preach Christ.”
“Well, see that is where you are ignorant of the facts, that meant Go Plow Cotton, now get back out there.”
Appreciate the story Barney, keep them coming. Bob