CAMP EIGHT CHURCH, WAYNE COUNTY, MISSOURI


 I took this photo several years ago of Camp Eight Church in the Missouri Ozarks of Wayne County, Missouri.  It was the church of my summers in the 1950's as a boy when staying with my grandmother.  It hasn't changed much.  But, it always now brings back sweet memories. 

During that stage of my youthful existence most mornings I would have rather been exploring in the creek and chasing crawdads and minnows and eternally hopeful of finding an arrowhead.. But grandma would have none of that.  Sunday was the Lord's day.

We began with the mile walk down the hillside, over the creek, and down that lonely gravel road. 

Paper fans, the old piano, gospel hymn after hymn, the preacher in the full path to stroke, his pleas for our salvation so deafening, sweating through his best white shirt, intent on purpose, are images that immediately come to mind.  Of course, there was no air-conditioning at this time, so we sweated right along with him. On those 95 degree summer days, from a little boy's perspective, it could get pretty ripe in there.

When the offering plate had been passed and the last imploring prayer given, the congregation finishing with the closing hymn, we all would pour out of the little church, sucking in fresh air, to adorn the hillside with colorful quilts and a bounty of cold fried chicken platters, potato salads, and side dishes varied and unique to the geography of the populace of the creek valley.

My skinny self made the journey back to grandma's at a much faster clip than the one that had preceded it.  Old blue jeans, scrap the shirt and shoes, and off to wonderland.

I know many of you of my generation have similar memories.  We may not have known it or appreciated it then, but we were lucky. But, because of my parents, and of course grandma, "when the roll is called up yonder, I'll be there".  I hope there is air-conditioning.

Keith

April 17, 2021

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