OLD TIME REVIVAL
Ann S. Brown c 2025
It was the first night of revival at the Zion Hill Baptist Church on Helton Creek. The building was full of people. Men sat on one side, women on the other. Some men and older boys stood outside. Windows were open to let the fresh air flow through. From the pulpit the preacher asked the congregation to bow their heads in prayer and so they did, as did those standing outside. My Grandpa Sturgill was one of the preachers holding the revival, along with Carl Sturgill and Granville Howell. My Grandpa Sturgill could preach hell so hot it is a wonder the pulpit didn’t catch on fire and my Uncle Carl Sturgill preached about like him.
Every night there was singing, preaching, praying and shouting in the old church house. Many folks were saved and later baptized. It was a joyous occasion. Buggies and wagons were parked in the church yard. Horses were hitched to the hitching rail. Due to age and arthritis, Mr. Perry could no longer climb into the saddle to ride his horse to church. He was a faithful member and where there is a will there is a way. He had a chair mounted on a sled. His crutches and a big lantern were secured close to him. Then Mr. Osborne had only to hitch his horse to the sled and he was ready to go down the road to the meeting house. People who lived within walking distance of the church walked to the meeting. Often a young man would walk his sweetheart home and maybe get to hold her hand. The young lady’s father was usually close by carrying the lantern for light.
These revivals lasted two or three weeks. Folks traveled many miles to stay with friends or family who lived in the community where the revival was being held. The host families prepared large amounts of food. Sheep were slaughtered and hams were brought from the smoke house. Biscuits were baked by the dozens. The women cooked and served all this food and cleaned up afterward. Besides this, they still had their daily chores plus getting the family ready for church every night. When my Mom was five years old she often stood in a chair and washed dishes to help her mother after some of those big meals. And yet the lady of the house arrived at the church on time. Families took their children to church. When babies cried, the preacher preached louder.
One older preacher told a story about his grandma. When he was five years old he visited his grandmother every afternoon. She lived next door, so it was a short walk. The week before revival started he went over to her house and she was not there. He opened the back door and stepped onto the back porch just in time to see her walking out the path to the woods. He followed her from a distance. Other ladies from the church were already there. They were praying for the lost souls in the community. His grandma joined them. The little boy hid and listened until one woman cried out in a high pitched voice, “Shake ‘em over hell, Lord! Save ‘em!” Well, that scared him and he ran back home as fast as his little legs would carry him. He never told his grandma what he heard. That little boy grew up and was called to preach. He was Pastor Bruce Roten. He never forgot the prayers of his grandma and the other church ladies.
The springtime revival closed after three weeks. There were a number of people to be baptized. On Sunday a big crowd gathered at the old mill pond on Helton Creek. They sang “Amazing Grace” and “Shall We Gather at the River.” Folks shouted and praised God when a loved one came up out of the water. Then there was a strange and unfamiliar sound approaching. A young man from the next holler over on the Spencer Branch, drove up in his new Model T car. At that time most people in our area had never seen an automobile and many people quit watching the baptizing and went to look at the car. We are so easily distracted by something new. Do you find that to be true?