The Great Dismal Swamps Church Social

The Great Dismal Swamps Church Social

When I was just a young fellow, going to church was about the only form of entertainment in our neck of the Dismal Swamps. Dismal County was too far to the east to attract traveling shows and the week of the State Fair, in Wake County, took forever to get here and went by in a flash. No moving picture shows and other than the occasional snake oil medicine show there wasn’t much doings going on. At this time there were no paved roads in all of North Carolina except the cobblestoned streets in some towns and Selma wasn’t one of them. When traveling from my town, Selma, down to Pinetown to visit kin we would drive our mule and wagon along miles of roads that would be totally covered over with Live Oaks and Elms. Spanish Moss would be hanging from the trees and it was like driving down a long green tunnel. In the 1950s the very last stretch of this road was widened and all of the trees on both sides were cut down for miles and miles. There is still one stretch where they straightened the road for the new highway and if you look about a hundred yards off the highway you will still see a part of the old abandoned road covered over with trees and moss. Occasionally I like to drive over to the old road and just look down that long green tunnel.

In the summer of 1914 I was 13 years old and my best pals were Bo Beasley, Hobo Parrish and Kilgore Futch. We all went to school at Selma School, which was a one room school house and the teacher was Miss Lucille Goodall from down Calabash way. We all thought she was the prettiest thing in four counties. Which brings me to what I am really talking about....

A 1914 Stutz Bearcat. That horseless carriage was even prettier than Miss Lucille.

Mr. Ellwood Creech was the town druggist and his store was at the corner of Main and 1st St. (Wern’t no 2nd or 3rd) At that time it was the only brick building in town and was the largest building. Mr. Creech rented rooms on the 2nd floor to various lawyers and the towns only Dentist. His name was Dr. L.D. Small, but us kids called him Dr. Yanksemall. It was August 12, 1914 when Mr. Creech came driving up Main St. in his brand spanking new Stutz Bearcat. He had to go clean to Raleigh in Wake County to get that car. It was special ordered and painted to his requests. It was painted sun yellow and there were thin green lines painted to outline the fenders and hood and at the ends of the lines were some of the prettiest curlicues and swoops I have ever seen. By the time Mr. Creech drove that car to the Drugstore most of the boys in town were racing as hard as they could run just to look at it and we just stood in a circle staring when it was finally parked. Mr. Creech looked us over and said. "I don’t want to hear of even one of you kids putting your grubby hands on this automobile." Then he marched on into the Drugstore. During the day, most of the adults found time to stop by the Drugstore for one reason or the other and generally found time to admire that beautiful auto. As I said, it was bright yellow and had brown, real leather, tufted seats. The hood was long and had sharp turns to come straight down to the fenders and running boards. The rim around the radiator was solid brass and shined like gold, as were both headlamps. The wheel spokes were oak and gleamed inside the yellow steel rims. The hub caps were brass and had the Stutz emblem embossed on them. The trunk was shaped just like a trunk you would travel with and was held in place by two leather straps. The spare tire was mounted just behind the trunk. A running board ran from front to back and helped you step up into this fine automobile. This auto had a small round windshield that was enough to keep bugs from hitting the driver but didn’t help the passenger much, unless they scrooched up to the driver. It was probably the most elegant car I have ever seen.

Mr. Creech was a fine man, but he was a bit prissey and he was known to be a sharp businessman who had built a nice building with his inheritance and he got a nice rent from those who used his top floor. He had a huge Victorian home surrounded by oaks and shrubs and bordered with an iron fence that he had inherited from his grandfather and he lived alone, with the exception of his cook and he had a woman come by twice a week to clean up and do laundry. All in all, Mr. Creech was about the best catch for any woman in three counties. He was a kind of skinny man without much chin to speak of, but the women were always cutting their eyes at him and developed all kinds of maladies to visit his drugstore. Even if they didn’t have a malady they could sit at his long marble counter and sip a cold fountain drink while chatting with each other. Mr. Creech did not pay much attention to the women out to become Mrs. Creech but he did have a liking for Miss Lucille Goodall. Miss Lucille had long golden hair and the greenest eyes I have ever seen. When she looked at you with those eyes they seemed to be glowing. Along with a creamy complexion and rosy cheeks she looked like a million dollars riding alongside Mr. Creech in that auto. That was about the only thing about that horseless carriage us boys didn’t like.

Mr. Creech had that yellow Stutz Bearcat on the roads of Dismal County nearly every day. On the days when Miss Lucille was with him he drove like he had some sense, but when she wasn’t sitting beside him he had that thing roaring. It didn’t matter if it was man, woman or child on foot or in a wagon he never slowed down. He would go bellering by with his horn blaring and would leave kicking mules, horses and people choking on his dust. The new was fast wearing off that Stutz.

Twice a year the ladies of the Dismal Swamps Baptist Church built on Solid Rock (Our church names tend to be kinda descriptive.) would have a Church social. In those days a church social was an excuse for all the families to meet and show off their best cooking, clothes and manners. People who were not regular church goers would not dream of missing a social so these would be crowded events. Our old Preacher, Mr. Kelson, had retired after 30 years and 6 weeks ago we had gotten a brand new Preacher. The right Reverend Philo T. Farnsworth seemed awfully old to us kids, but probably wasn’t much over 27 or 28 at the time. He was an average sized man and had a voice like the thunder of heaven when he was in the middle of his sermon. He pitched at one of our ball games and he had a pitch that sizzled more than his sermons and when Percy Kettle’s wheel came off his wagon Reverend Farnsworth squatted down under the edge of the wagon and when he straightened up that heavy old wagon came right up with him. I don’t care if that man was a preacher or not...he was strong.

On the Sunday of the church social half of Dismal County was at the Church and there were two rows of groaning tables laden with just about every kind of food ever cooked in the Swamps. Each family brought what they could afford. Fried chicken by the washtub full. Bar-B-Que, baby back ribs, roast beef, frog legs, squirrels, rabbits, venison and fried gator. Butterbeans, Dixie Lee Crowders, Field peas, snaps, tomatoes, potatoes, yam casserole, pickles, banana pudding, pineapple cake, chocolate cake, apple pie, pecan pie. Keep in mind now that this is only a partial list and doesn’t include many dishes that were partial to that particular time and place.

The main attraction was that beautiful yellow Stutz Bearcat and it had a crowd of us boys looking it over from end to end. At first we were mindful of what we had been told and didn’t lay a hand on it, but as time went on we got braver and what with one dare and another we were soon crawling all over that beautiful car. Kilgore Futch was behind the steering wheel flipping and turning different switches and playing Udddnnn Udddnnn. Myself, Bo Beasley, Hobo Parrish and several other boys got behind the Stutz and were showing off as to how strong we were and wouldn’t you know it. That darn auto rolled a couple of feet and the motor turned over. That was all she took and the next thing you knew that thing was flying around the church in a huge circle. Horses were screaming and bolting off in every direction and once that auto cleared the corner of the church and started back all of the ladies around the tables started screaming too. Kilgore was hanging on to the steering wheel with all his might and since it was a throttle drive auto he had no control over the speed other than to push the lever the wrong way and it was going full speed. I declare I ain’t never seen anything that fast in my life. It must have gotten up to pretty near 20 miles an hour. Horses, dogs and kids were flying in every which direction. Kilgore kept yelling... Heellpp...Stop this thang. Mr. Creech ran bellering out of the church and started chasing his Stutz Bearcat around the church, but he won’t no ways fast enough. In fact, about the 2nd or 3rd go round Kilgore caught up with him and then ran him over. Fortunately the wheels went on either side and he wasn’t hurt. Just a couple of scratches and some grass stains. Miss Lucille stood on the church steps and screamed once and fainted. It was a good thing Reverend Farnsworth was there to catch her.

You know, as bad as this story is...it gets worse. I reckon it was the 4th or 5th turn around the church that Kilgore finally figured out how to straighten out the automobile. Unfortunately, when he did he was pointed straight at the rows of food laid out by the ladies. Straight down the middle of both tables flew that Stutz Bearcat. Bar-B-Que, ribs, cakes and pies went flying in all directions. Some straight up and some being catapulted over the congregation. By the time everything landed it looked like one of those food fights they show in the movies. Not many were untouched. The sheets used to cover the tables were draped over the Stutz and with them flapping in the wind the Stutz flew down the dock heading out into the Dismal Swamps. When the Stutz cleared the end of the dock it looked like it was going to hang in the air forever. It flew and flew and finally seemed to kinda skid across the water and slowly settled down. You could hear that fine motor cracking and popping from where the hot metal hit that cool water. Bubbles and gas belched from the auto and it slowly sank into the Dismals. At first we didn’t know if Kilgore was going to come back up or not, but finally here he popped up. He still had a sheet draped over his shoulder and swamp grass was hanging from his head as he dog paddled to the end of the dock.

Well sir. When Kilgore finally made it to the top of the dock and we helped him up we turned around and there was every man, woman and child looking at us 4 boys. Not one was smiling. Mr. Creech staggered out of the crowd and started screaming gibberish. I never did hear of anyone who claimed to understand a word he said. When he got done he turned around and stomped off toward town still screaming. Our Pa’s stepped out of the crowd and mine just said. "Lets go home boy." When we got to the house he sent me to the woodshed and here he came with his belt. Oh, I don’t think I got as many licks as I deserved. I noticed that while he was swinging that belt he was shaking and shuddering and I though it was because he was so mad, but then he was laughing so hard that he couldn’t swing the belt anymore and finally just fell over laughing. I joined right in and we just laid there laughing as hard as we could. That auto was never mentioned in our house again.

The rest of the summer all of us boys would see who could swim down to the Stutz Bearcat and sit behind the steering wheel the longest. Kilgore won, but it was only because his foot got caught in the steering wheel and he nearly drowned. Towards fall a couple of us took a rope down to the back bumper and a farmer by the name of Silas Turner hooked his mules to it and hauled it out. She was looking pretty bad by that time. The windshield had gotten broken and the fenders were starting to rust. Those fine oak wheels were starting to get skewed and the stuffing was coming out of the leather seats. It was a poor looking sight sitting on the edge of the swamp. Mr. Turner drug it up behind Mr. Creech’s house and there it sat until it mostly rotted into the ground. I think the next auto in town was in 1927 or 28.

Mr. Creech never forgave any of us boys and long after he was in his old age and his son was minding the counter at the drug store he would always have a glare for us. I guess us boys finally outlived the shame of that day and generally we would get a slap on the back or a nod from most of the other swampers and Bo Beasley eventually became mayor and is running for congress next election.

Now to get back to what all of this story was really, really about :)

As bad as all this was there was some good that came out of it. When Miss Lucille fainted and Reverend Farnsworth was comforting her, she came to and they were looking straight into each others eyes. The Reverend leaned over and kissed her right smack on the lips. They were married three weeks later and that was the start of the Farnsworth crowd in the Dismals. Buck and Phil are probably two of the best moonshiners in the swamps and strong as a brace of oxen. Just a fine fine family. If you get a chance, ya’ll come on down to one of our Church Socials. They ain’t as much fun now, but the folks are all friendly.


-Bob Gurkin