Remembering the brush arbor revivals of childhood

I told you that old timers spend a good bit of their time recollectin’ yesteryear. Well sir, I come across an article about “brush arbor revivals.” 

A brush arbor revival, takes place under an open-sided shelter called an “arbor”, which is built with vertical poles driven into the ground with additional long poles laid across the top as support for a roof of brush, cut branches or hay.” 

Now that stirred a few memories of my childhood. We left a Pan Handle cotton farm in Floyd County to move to Erath County when I was just a sprout. 

So, we changed from cotton farmers to stockmen since the place Dad bought was rolling hills pastureland. There was some creek bottom land that eventually became hay fields, but that was as close to farmers that we become. 

This ol’ country was good cow country and within driving distance to the Fort Worth Stockyards. I say all of that to tell you that this little Erath County community, Alexander, Texas, was pert near all Baptists and maybe a Methodist or two. Since the Baptists were in the majority, they built a tabernacle for the community. Now this writing started out to be about “Brush Arbor revivals” but these Baptists were a notch above brush arbors in that they had built a tabernacle down on the creek where they would have revivals about twice a year. 

Usually held in late spring and early fall to take advantage of the weather. This tabernacle was open sided, and you could expect a breeze during this time of year. 

They sang the old hymns and the preachers lined up near the podium, preaching fire and brimstone, while the deacons would occupy the first row where some would do their best to not doze off. Then there would be a few rows of widows and single ladies using their funeral fans to help the breeze and swat the bugs. 

From there to the back, you would find families with youngsters and crying babies. The very back row is where you would find older boys keeping themselves occupied with catching doodle bugs and occasionally catching a flying beetle that would eventually be stuffed down the back of the neck of some girl’s dress. 

I guess this would be considered the hierarchy of the tabernacle! And though you might have worked daylight to dark, come preachin’ time you were there for the duration. And you know, not one of those preachers had a watch! 

Their message seemed to say, “The Lord’s path might have tribulation, but he will never leave you. Choose wisely.” And most folks understood, basically hearing words that a feller once said, “Better to ride slow in God’s direction, mendin’ fences, ridin’ herd, doctorin’ the sick and gatherin’ up the strays along the way than to be a high lopin’ the ridges in the wrong direction any day!”

 

Tabernacle by the Creek

They gathered at the tabernacle on the creek,

After puttin’ in a full day’s work,

The preacher had come, so folks could hear him speak,

‘Bout Gods way that they must not shirk,

 

Folks young an’ old came from throughout the countryside,

Intent on hearin’ God’s Word,

An’ for the glory that the message would provide,

As memories from the past were stirred

 

The heat of the day had moderated some,

Tho their backs were damp with sweat,

Listenin’ to the sound of mosquito wings thrum,

An’ the frogs with their quartet.

 

‘Course there were lotsa crickets fiddlin’ a tune,

An’ the coyotes just yippin,’

With the who-hoot of an owl that told them that soon,

Dark of night would come slippin’.

 

Folks hoped for a breeze to keep the mosquitoes at bay,

While swingin’ their funeral fan,

They’d picked this time of year, hoping for a cooler day,

Bad mouthin’ the weatherman.

 

The preacher prayed and the sacred old hymns they’d sung,

Shore put ‘em in a joyful mood,

An’ the beautiful music through that humid night rung,  

A glorious interlude.

 

Then the hat was passed front to back an’ ‘crost the aisle,

An’ the folks put in their due,

An’ the hats looked full, makin’ the preacher smile,

A little cash an’ one IOU.

 

As you’d expect that preacher shore ‘nuff stood out,

Prepared to preach fire and brimstone,

An’ he did it eloquent, with whisper an’ shout,

Getting’ stronger as he preached on.

 

Wavin’ the Word of God, extollin’ the Pearly Gate,

He spoke of God’s almighty power,

’Bout the curse of the wages of sin, an’ he told it straight, 

With the horrors of Hell’s brimfire.

 

He preached on ‘til the gents started to nod,

Which gave Miss Molly a frown,

 Showin’ that she thought their behaviors quite odd,

Her reputation was renown.

But the preacher knew that his thunder was gone,

An’ it was time to pack it in,

For there were many out there tryin’ to stifle a yawn,

So, the preacher forced a grin.

 

 ‘Cuz, he knew he’d be right back tomorrow night,

To mark the path to be trod,

He’d stand tall an’ preach the Word with all his might,

 Extollin’ the virtues of God.

 

An’ there you have it, one of yesteryears way of life,

Where folks threw off satan’s shackle,

Hearin’ preachers guide folks away from their strife,

Gatherin,’ ‘neath an ol’ tabernacle.

©  Ol’ Jim Cathey

 

Give me that old time religion, 

It was good enough for Paul and Silas, and it’s good enough for me!

God bless each of you and God Bless America!

 

 

The Marlin Democrat

251 Live Oak St
Marlin, TX 76661
Phone: (254) 883-2554
Fax:(254) 883-6553