by D M Barrett
“If I bought it, what’s the cash price?” the preacher asked.
“It was foreclosed about a dozen years ago for $2800. I’d like to get that price but I could work out a low-interest loan just for you,” George Hickman said with an almost fiendish delight.
“I’m interested,” the preacher replied.
“Since we’ve done a lot of business together, I have to warn you that the property has a lot of property tax liens. You need to check at the courthouse,” George Hickman said.
“I’ll drive to Cookeville tomorrow and do some checking,” the preacher promised.
“So when’s the big day?” the banker inquired.
“When you asked me the same question three months ago, I promised that you’d be the first to know,” the preacher replied.
“Can’t you give Uncle George a little hint?” the banker teased.
“It’ll be sometime before this next Christmas rolls around. However, that is confidential,” the preacher said with a smile.
“Mum is the word. I won’t say anything about you two fixing up the old Simpson mansion for your love nest,” George Hickman said with glee.
“I want to buy the Simpson mansion and turn it into a halfway house for paroled female inmates from the Tennessee State Prison System. It has the support of Sheriff Hankins and the Putnam County Commission. The state of Tennessee is paying a daily fee for lodging, meals, and incidentals for each woman,” the preacher explained.
This time, the banker really almost swallowed his unlit cigar. The expression on his face was one of sheer horror.
“Preacher, have you prayed about this?” the banker queried.
“Yes, and I have a good feeling about helping those women change their lives,” Preacher Mann responded.
“I recommend that you pray harder. This project is going to set Ferguson ablaze. You’ll either be stoned or crucified. I’d bet $20 either way,” George Hickman said with a very serious tone.
“I’ll have a town meeting and explain the concept. I think our town is sufficiently charitable to do the right thing,” Preacher Mann said.
“You’d better make sure that Sheriff Hankins and every deputy is there at that meeting. They may have to serve as bodyguards when you explain this project,” the banker instructed.
“I expect you to be there. I’ll get you a front-row seat,” the preacher promised as he exited the bank.
* **
The preacher spent the rest of the week promoting on Sunday following services about a congregational meeting about his idea for the Angels Landing Halfway House. He was really excited about the prospect of a new ministry opportunity for the area.
Attendance at Community Church peaked at around 160, and never had less than 100 in attendance in cold or rainy weather. Given the topography of Ferguson, there had been a lot of cancellations of church meetings during January and February of that year.
On the Sunday where the Angels Landing ministry was to be discussed, attendance was 185 for the services. Every pew was filled. Extra chairs were placed in the area around the pulpit and in the aisles.
The preacher believed that the large attendance was an indication of the church wanting to act as Good Samaritans for these broken ladies. He had no idea of the storm that was approaching Community Church.
After welcoming the attendees, the preacher explained his vision for starting a home to help these female parolees to get back into life. They would have designated members teach them about cleanliness, hygiene, childcare, accepting responsibility, and the like.
Preacher Mann explained how the old Simpson property could be converted into the Halfway House. It was 12,000 square feet with, seven 20-foot by 20-foot rooms, two full baths with shower tubs, and a large parlor area for classes and meetings.
“Community Church has the money to buy and renovate the Simpson property. There is enough tillable land for these women to have a large garden to help provide their own food. Additionally, the state of Tennessee will be paying a per diem, or daily rate, to cover room rent, additional food, and incidental expenses,” Preacher Man explained.
SheMammy Martin raised his hand to ask a question. The preacher pointed to him and nodded affirmatively.
“If I understand this correctly, that this ministry will be self-sustaining and will eventually return the church’s investment,” SheMammy asked.
“It will be a total cost of about $4000 including purchase price, back taxes, and renovations. It will be immediately self-sustaining and it should return the investment in about ten years,” Preacher Mann answered.
The next few words out of the preacher’s mouth would release a firestorm such as that little Tennessee mountain town had never seen.
Jack Wright would later write in his journal that what happened next made him about that Bible verse that predicts a time when ‘the elements shall melt with fervent heat.’
“Are there any other questions or comments?” Preacher Mann asked as he looked around the assembled congregation.
“These women will steal us blind,” one congregant said.
“They’ll break into our houses,” another suggested.
“It ought to be called Devils Landing. You’re bringing in Satan’s little sisters,” one lady raged.
Even Walter Mason was against this project and scolded, ”Preacher, you need to quit worrying about taking in strays from other places. There’s plenty of ministering to be done in this part of the county.”
Sensing that there was a lot more resistance than he had ever dreamed, he thanked the congregation for attending and promised there would be at least one more meeting before any decision was made. He closed with a prayer.
After the crowd left, Jack Wright closed the meetinghouse door. He wanted to speak directly with the preacher without the benefit of other eyes or ears around.
“As long as everything suits them, folks around here are a happy, peaceful lot. You’ve done a good job of gaining everyone’s confidence in spiritual matters and providing a large degree of economic prosperity during this depression,” Jack Wright said.
“I’m waiting for the ‘but’ that I know is coming,” the preacher replied.
“But this project could destroy your good work and end your ministry in this town. You best never mention this again and act like it never happened,” Jack Wright pleaded.
“I failed to help these people see the vision for Angels Landing. This ministry can change lives for a dozen women annually. There’ll be no more than six female residents at a time and they are limited to a six-month stay. Over the next ten years, there could be over 100 broken women brought back to being good, responsible, productive citizens,” the preacher implored.
“What do you plan to do next?” Jack Wright answered.
“Sheriff Hankins and the Putnam County Commissioner are behind this project. I’ll call a public meeting and invite the Sheriff and the County Commissioner from our area to attend. I think that may help allay some fears,” the preacher replied.
“Make sure that Sheriff Hankins brings all his deputies. They may need to serve as bodyguards by the time that meeting is finished,” Jack Wright instructed.
The preacher failed to heed the storekeeper’s advice. He had a notice placed in The Mountain Gazette. He invited all the local business owners: Miss Rosie, Miss Ruby, Joe Scott, Dr. Marcus Whitman, Martin Lawrence, Barber James Jennings, the Smith Brothers, and Louis Barrett. He even committed Nurse Bilbrey to be present.
The preacher made his rounds early in the week and asked the members of Community Church to invite their neighbors to the public meeting about the Angels Landing project.
Later in the week, several of the church members stopped by to talk to the preacher. Church members reported being subjected to yelling, cursing, and terrible insults about the proposed project by others in the community. Some church members even reported people saying that they’d be there with their guns.
Realizing that there was solid resistance, the prea
cher took comfort in knowing that Sheriff Hankins and the local County Commissioner would be present. He also expected support from the local business leaders.
On the Sunday afternoon of the public meeting, there were about 400 in attendance. The crowd assembled in front of Discount Grocery and the preacher spoke from the store’s large porch.
Sheriff Hankins was not in attendance. He sent one deputy, Tom Kelly. The local County Commissioner was a no-show also. Coleman Walker, the station manager at WNOX, and a news reporter were present.
When the preacher started to speak, the crowd immediately became hostile. It was a borderline riot. The preacher raised his arm to quiet the crowd.
“We are here to answer any questions and hear your comments about this proposed project. I’m asking you to let me point toward folks with their hands raised and keep down the noise so we can hear them,” the preacher pleaded.
One man raised his hand and asked, “Is this another money-making scheme? We all know you’ve got your hand in every business owners’ pocket. You’ve even in bed with that druggist, those ‘shiners, and crooked Henry Wooden.”
Without replying, the preacher pointed to another overall-clad gentleman who yelled, “If I see one of those sorry bitches walking down the road near my house, I’ll shoot her!”
A lady said, “You’re probably going to use that old Simpson mansion and turn it into a cathouse with those convicts.”
At the end of the first fifteen minutes, the crowd became so hostile and threatening that the preacher ended the meeting and Deputy Tom Kelly ushered him into the store and closed the door. Coleman Walker and his news reporter followed closely.
“These people hate you,” Coleman Walker said.
“So all of this is because some women?” the news reporter asked.
The preacher nodded affirmatively but neither lifted his head nor made eye contact.
“If I lived closer, I’d attend your church,” the reporter replied.
The preacher smiled and nodded as Coleman Walker and the reporter left. They talked amongst themselves but the preacher couldn’t make out what was being said.
The other business owners had slipped away during the first few minutes of the public meeting. Only Jack Wright and Nurse Bilbrey stayed to support Preacher Mann.
“I am so very sorry, Tom. I know this project meant a lot to you,” Nurse Bilbrey said as she hugged and attempted to comfort the preacher.
“Looks like this project has suffered a stillbirth,” Preacher Mann replied with a break in his voice.
“It’ll blow over preacher. It won’t take long for this to get back to normal,” Jack Wright encouraged.
“Get me over to the church house. I need some alone time,” the preacher said to Deputy Kelly.
The crowd had dispersed as Deputy Kelly walked the preacher across Highway 70 to Community Church. The preacher had never felt so attacked. He had been called a crook, a liar, a criminal conspirator, and a potential whoremonger.
Things were mostly quiet the following week. A few non-members would yell profanities from their vehicle windows when they recognized the preacher. One of two would blow their horns and make obscene gestures.
When the preacher stood in the pulpit to address his congregation, there were only 60 people present. The crowd did not include any of the local business owners but Jack Wright. Nurse Bilbrey was there to support her fiancé.
“We will have a very short sermon today then you will be dismissed,” the preacher announced.
His remarks were met by some mumbling noise between members of the congregation. The preacher’s remarks were made in an ominous, even dark, prophetic tone.
“When our Savior instructed those sent to preach the glad tidings of great joy, which we call the gospel, he was very clear what those preachers were to do when that gospel was received.
If those preachers were not welcomed or their words listened to, they were to leave that home or town and shake the dust off their feet.
Today, I announce that I’m leaving Ferguson and Community Church. In compliance with that command, both literally and symbolically, I am stepping down from this pulpit and shaking the dust from my feet,” the preacher said.
Preacher Mann stepped off the platform and lifted one foot at a time as if to shake the dust from his feet. He walked out the front door of the meeting house and approached his old truck.
Before anyone could stop him, he started to truck and headed east on Highway 70. Those members who attended were in shock.
Jack Wright and Nurse Bilbrey rushed to the preacher’s sleeping room and walked inside. All his personal belongings were gone. His clothes had been removed from the chifforobe. It was as though he’d never been at Community Church.
Nurse Bilbrey began to sob. Jack Wright began to wipe the tears from his eyes.
It wasn’t long before the local business owners got the news and headed directly for Community Church. This was beyond a tragedy for Ferguson.
“Don’t you think he’ll cool off and be back?” Dr. Whitman asked.
“He’s been crucified. We abandoned him. He won’t be back,” Miss Rosie said as she fought back tears.
“I’ll find him wherever he is. I’ll go talk to him,” Sheriff Hankins promised.
“What can we do?” Louis Barrett asked in a melancholy manner.
“Repent and pray. It’s in the Lord’s hands now,” Nurse Bilbrey said as she dried her eyes and walked out of the church building.
8.
Legends
The preacher made a quick trip in his truck east on Highway 70. He passed through Crossville and continued toward Crab Orchard in eastern Cumberland County. He hadn’t decided on a stopping point, but it would definitely be well beyond the town of Ferguson.
When Preacher Mann entered the city of Crab Orchard, he noticed a well-dressed young man hitchhiking. He decided to stop and offer him a ride.
“Where are you headed?” the preacher asked as he rolled down the truck window.
“I’m headed to Knoxville. Where are you headed?” the young man inquired.
“I guess I’m headed to Knoxville, too,” Preacher Mann announced with a large smile.
The young man opened the passenger door on the black Ford truck, sat down, and closed the door. He nodded affirmatively and the preacher pulled onto the highway and continued his trip.
“What are you doing in Knoxville on a Sunday afternoon?” the preacher queried.
“I’m headed to the WNOX-AM studios for the Dixie Gospel Caravan,” he replied.
“Are you performing today?” the preacher inquired.
“Mr. Coleman Walker often lets me give a five-minute sermon between bands. It gives the previous band time to leave the stage and time for the next band to set up. My name is Josh Sullivan,” he said.
“Are you a minister?” the preacher asked.
“I want to be a preacher. Nobody can afford a preacher around here so I do carpentry work,” Josh Sullivan replied.
“Sounds like a good start for being a preacher. I know a very good preacher that started out as a carpenter,” Preacher Mann said.
“Yeah, that fellow is my boss,” Josh said with a huge smile.
“My name is Thomas Mann. I’m glad to make your acquaintance,” the preacher replied.
“What do you do for a living?” Josh Sullivan asked.
“I’m unemployed,” Preacher Mann said with a slight chuckle.
“What kind of work did you do before now?” Josh inquired.
“I was a preacher,” Preacher Mann responded.
“If you were called to preach, you’re still a preacher. You’re just between congregations,” Josh Sullivan opined.
“Indeed,” the preacher said under his breath.
“Where are you headed after you leave Knoxville?” Josh Sullivan asked.
“I suppose I’m taking you back to Crab Orchard,” the preacher replied with a smile.
“I’ve got some work for an experienc
ed preacher,” Josh said.
“What have you got in mind?” the preacher queried.
“Bob Allen is a few years older than me. His parents expect him to become a teacher. He wants to be a baseball player,” Josh explained.
“Why do you need an experienced preacher in that situation?” Preacher Mann inquired.
“The Bible says, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.’ I need you to fulfill that role with the Allen family,” Josh Sullivan replied.
“I’ll do my best,” Preacher Mann promised.
* **
The drive between Crab Orchard and Knoxville seemed to pass quickly for Preacher Mann and Josh Sullivan. The preacher parked in front of the WNOX-AM studies and both men entered the building.
Coleman Walker, the station manager, saw the pair through the glass front doors and motioned them inside. He was a little surprised to see Preacher Mann on a Sunday afternoon.
“I’m not sure I’ve got enough time today for two preachers,” Coleman Walker said with a chuckle.
“Josh is working today. I’m taking the day off.” the preacher explained.
“Brother Sullivan can take his place near the stage. He can have five minutes when the Skillet Lickers finish and the Lewis Family takes the stage. We can talk a little before Josh calls us all to repentance,” Mr. Walker instructed.
As Josh nodded and walked into the studio, Coleman Walker said, “I heard about your resignation. The town’s reaction to your Angels Landing project was very selfish and misguided.”
“I believe that I’ve done all that I can for Community Church and the town of Ferguson. It was time for me to move on,” Preacher Mann lamented.
“Go listen to Brother Sullivan. I’ll be in the studio in a few minutes,” Coleman Walker said.
When the preacher had closed the studio doors behind him, Coleman Walker quickly phoned Discount Grocery in Ferguson. The store was never open on Sunday but it was packed with stunned community leaders discussing how to retrieve Preacher Mann.
