Last week I learned that East Lake United Methodist Church, where I grew up, will close at the end of this month. When I also found out the current pastor is going on a mission trip and won't be there June 20th and 27th, I volunteered to keep it open those additional two Sundays. I've been calling old friends and lining up people to come on our last Sunday, if not the next two Sundays as well. And then today's mail brought the news that Forrest Avenue United Methodist Church, my first appointment, will also close at the end of this month. I, along with other former pastors and former members, am invited back for the final service -- on June 27th.
I learned a lot in seminary, but not how to be in two places at once! I was sad to think I'd miss the final service at Forrest Avenue UMC, but I was committed to East Lake UMC. And then I remembered that they don't meet at the same time. East Lake's service is now at 9:30 a.m., and Forrest Avenue's is at 11:00 a.m. They are 25 minutes apart, but both in Chattanooga. Maybe I can slip in a little late and make it to a second service the same morning. I'm sure gonna try!
I took these photos this evening just before the sun disappeared for the day.
8 comments:
All the comments (so far) have been on Facebook:
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Sylvia Jones said, "Thanks, Bonnie, I didn't know about either of these. Just maybe I'll make to FA."
Bonnie Setliffe Jacobs said, "That would be great, Sylvia! I hope to see you there."
Paula Berard said, "Wait ... Forrest Avenue Church is closing? But ... but ..."
Bonnie Setliffe Jacobs said, "What's your connection with Forrest Avenue Church, Paula? Oh, the churches in the North River group (what was it called?) included Forrest Avenue, St. Luke, St. Mark, and another one or two, right?"
MEMORIES OF EAST LAKE METHODIST CHURCH
How sad it is to know that a building (East lake Methodist Church) will sit in silence, perhaps forever, in silence.
Gone are most of the wonderful people who once sat and worshipped in the lovely sanctuary lined with shining, breathtakingly beautiful stained glass windows. Entering the sanctuary, one has the feeling that they are still there (at least in spirit), sitting in their favorite seats. One of the perks of being a choir member gave one the ability to see who was sleepy, who talked during the sermon or noticing anything they did that was amusing. Of course, the things seen from the choir loft reversed themselves because the congregation could do the same as they looked at the people who sang in the choir.
However, the heart never forgets the place where you were christened, whispered with your friends, passed billfolds filled with pictures and tried on each others’ rings, hoping the watchful eyes of parents did not notice. Sometimes (instead of being attentive to the minister’s sermon), reading the names of the hymns, adding the words ‘under the bedclothes’ to each one (giggling at the really funny ones as children will do), becoming old enough to sing in the choir, feeling so grown up, and then, when you were old enough, walked down the aisle on your father's arm to be married to someone you loved, and years afterward, having one's own babies christened there.
Then there was the little girl would stand in the corner of the pew while her father made the announcements. Often he would come back to the fourth pew, only to find a very upset daughter (at times with tears trickling down her cheeks). Gently, he would put her in his lap and ask what was wrong (of course he knew the answer already). With a sob, she would tell him that the usher had not taken her offering. All was fine when he would whisper that, after church, she could go up to the offering plates and put the money in 'all by herself.'
MEMORIES OF EAST LAKE METHODIST CHURCH (PART TWO)
Childhood memories were those special nights near Christmastime when the anticipation of receiving a gift from Santa (brought there by your parents) was so exciting and eagerly waiting for the 'little brown bag' filled with fruit, candy and sometimes a surprise.
Suddenly the skits put on by Sunday School classes in the fellowship hall come to mind and bring a smile. What were those memories? Why the human train, of course, and Sam Terry being his funny self! There were also two little sisters who would get up to sing, then begin to cry and probably because of shyness or embarrassment would suddenly lift their dresses right up over their heads to hide. The special year is remembered when it was suddenly ‘your turn’ to be an angel...getting those wings to stay on was a challenge but standing in the bright light that made your halo and wings glitter made you feel so proud.
MYF...who didn't love it? After the service on Sunday nights, everyone would get in cars to travel to a 'secret' place (an unknown destination). Once everyone arrived, games such as 'gossip' were played. Myrt Mason had card games which gave directions of silly things to do, and if memory is correct, there was a game called truth!!! That one certainly wasn’t everyone’s favorite!
One of the most remembered of those nights was the one when unknown destination was at the home of French (who was a charmer and so much fun) and Gladys Hogue's home. They had a TV, Ed Sullivan's show came on, and there were those boys from England...YES...we saw their first visit to America and the introduction of the Beatles doing their first of many more shows in the United States.
MEMORIES OF EAST LAKE METHODIST CHURCH (PART THREE)
What a wonderful group of friends one had at this lovely church! Bible School, singing with quiet, gentle Mrs. Morgan in Sunday School, listening to sweet Mrs. Hill who had the patience of Job to put up with the shenanigans of the children (whose names will not be given) whom she was teaching, and Mrs. Terry who was such a lady and loved us all.
Those wonderful days are now only precious memories, and they have became so valuable as one becomes old enough to appreciate what it was like to be loved by so many.
Though the Methodist Conference will assume ownership of this dear place, we alone own the memories that no one can tear down, sell or erase from the chalkboards of our hearts and minds.
When we count our blessings, each of us will remember to include our friends, the adults who cared so much about us and our church, and so many events that there is not enough space to mention them all.
As is natural, not everyone has the same memories or experiences related to this church but many will recall the ministers we loved (and their families), the teachers we had, singing and making crafts in Bible School, the organ played by Miss Ruth, the choir led by Tom Cook, the ushers, suppers in the fellowship hall, and camping in those very cold cabins at Fall Creek Falls.
Charlotte Vaughn Mason
Paula Berard answered my earlier question (on Facebook): "Yes, it was Hands Across the River Parish (or HARP). We performed 1776 there. I got to play Abigail Adams, my best role ever! How often do you get to play someone who is sweet AND smart? And real?"
Charlotte, you may remember being an angel, but what I remember is being Mary in the Christmas program at church. Or rather I was ALMOST Mary. You and I were maybe ten or eleven years old, and I had been chosen to play the part of Mary. My mother made me a soft, pale blue costume and I was so excited. My family needed a ride to church, and Rev. King (we called him "Brother King") came to pick us up. It was raining that evening and, probably trying to keep us from getting wet, he drove into the yard rather than staying on the street. However, the rain had softened the dirt and his car got stuck. By the time we managed to push the car out of the mud, we had missed the play and someone decided YOU should be Mary in my place. Never again was I chosen to play that role. Although we arrived in time to get the "little brown bags filled with fruit and candy," I had missed the all-important event where I was to smile sweetly down at the doll lying in a manger. It wasn't fair, I tell you, not fair at all!
Bonnie, in a way, we are even.
When we were in second grade at East Lake Elamentary and Miss Miriam Spencer was our teacher,we had practiced and practiced for our play. Although I can't recall what the play was called or what it was about, I remember that I had the leading role. Some of the boys made a chair with their arms and carried me on it.
Suddenly, I became very ill with rheumatic fever and was afraid that I might miss the play, which I did.
Who got to do my part? YOU!! Was I upset? Indeed, I was.
So, tonite, perhaps our feelings, which are similar, can be put to rest; and we can agree that we both were cheated out of something we wanted so badly.
However, I believe your disappointment was greater than mine. A saying: 'So near and yet so far' comes to mind because it truly describes how you must have felt in a situation that really did not have to happen if Brother King had left his car on the road.
Charlotte Vaughn Mason
Even then, I knew it wasn't your fault that I missed the program, but it still wasn't fair. And I do remember explaining to people when we were in second grade that you had "romantic fever." We were always so competitive, weren't we? Okay, I guess now we can call it even, after 60-odd years! Since you were in my wedding and I was in yours, we must not have been TOO upset with each other, huh? (See you in the morning, friend.)
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