This memoir was originally written in 1996 and emailed to the Fasola – Discussions group. At the time, the worship activity we know as Sacred Harp was in the middle of a nationwide growth & resurgence.
The following is the description of one of the earliest Sacred Harp events that I can remember, even somewhat vividly. It is stored in the corner of my memory and every now and then it sneaks out to refresh my thoughts.
July 1973 – I was but twelve years old. I had been to Sacred Harp singings all my life but this was the first year that I was trying to take in as many of them as I could. Being late summer, the crops were “laid by” and conventions were beginning to occur in North Mississippi. I come from a very active churchgoing family so Saturday singings are at the top of my list. It was the Saturday before the first Sunday in August (last day of July), time for the Webster County (Mississippi) Convention. For many years, this had been a two-day singing but it had been reduced to one like many others that would follow.
I loaded my fence-rail frame into the back of an old Chevelle with Hugh and Henry McGuire, chauffeured proudly by their father, Hugh Bill McGuire. Making our way to the south end of Calhoun County, we turned on to a dusty gravel road just below Derma, Mississippi (go ahead, get out your atlas). It was a typical hot, scalding July day. The vegetation on the roadside was now a dull green from months of the hot sun and covered with layers of dust, put there by ambling autos and numerous farm implements. We crossed Topashaw creek bottom which included a handful of rickety old wooden plank bridges stretched across an almost dry creek bed. As you climb the first hill on the other side, you can look across the creek bottom and see a straight road for about a country mile (and then some) and watch the dust you have left behind settle gently above the road in the late summer heat. We pass through little communities so small that if you blink, you’ve missed them. One barn roof proudly proclaims “Bentley, USA”. Bently is now home to a 4th of July barbecue which is heavily attended in election years.
Somewhere in the woods we leave Calhoun County and enter Webster County. Within a matter of minutes, we enter the sleepy little community of Montevista where the local Baptist church is hosting the convention. Upon entering the church, it didn’t take long to figure out that without us Calhoun County folks, the pickins’ would be kind of slim. Most of the Webster County singers were on tenor, with a few others scattered on the remaining parts.
Here sat a group of folks, mostly senior citizens, who had attended singings most all their life. In their younger days, they had made their way to singings at local churches in wagons pulled by oxen, horses, or mules. On this day they came in vehicles named Fairlane, Galaxy 500, and Impala. They communicated by “yellin’ across the holler” as children but had lived to know that men walked on the moon. Today, they continued the tradition of singing from the Sacred Harp.
I still remember some selections from the day. The day’s singing included “When I am Gone,” “O, Come Away,” “Soft Music,” “Pilgrims Farewell,” “Wells,” “Windham” (led in 4/4 time by Joe Cobb) and “Easter Anthem,” which was traditionally sung in Mississippi at 2:00 in the afternoon. Other favorites were from the 1911 Sacred Harp (J.L. White edition) which were included in the 1958 Deason/Parris revision of the Christian Harmony. “Angel Band” and “Don’t Grieve Your Mother” were among those favorites.
Dinner, served under the oak trees behind the church, was a sight to behold. Plates of fried chicken graced the table alongside fresh butterbeans, tomatoes, corn, & squash. The meal could be topped off with some heavenly coconut cake or homemade chocolate pie topped with fresh calf slobber (meringue). One cook had brewed the ice tea a little strong. When the extra strong tea was poured out by me and John Leigh Vanhorn, it fizzled and made a layer of foam on the hot gravel in the driveway. A tastier batch awaited us in another jug on the table.
The afternoon session concluded with many thank you’s and “’preciate all you folks from other counties comin”.A couple of times someone looked over at Hugh, Henry, and myself and said “it shore is good to see these young fellers takin’ up sangin”. New Hope Baptist Church offered to host the convention the following year. After a song and a prayer, the convention was dismissed until 1974.
Before the long (35 mile) ride home back down the same dusty trail in a non-air conditioned car, Hugh Bill made a stop at the Montevista grocery store. This little cinder block building sat at the bottom of the hill below the church with a Southland Oil sign and kitty cat decals on the gas pumps out front. Once inside, Hugh, Henry and I made our way over to the old fashioned “drank box”. What a selection! Nestled inside the cooler were cold Nehi bellywashers (Peach & Strawberry), along with numerous other fruit drinks. I opted for a cold Grapette which was beside companions Lemonette and Orangette. These had to be the best fruit flavored soft drinks of all time. At least they were on that day. On the dusty car ride home, us boys sang songs we didn’t know from the Christian Harmony. Hugh Bill sang along with us while driving. He didn’t need a book since he knew them all from memory. (Still does, for that matter.)
For the next few years the Webster County Convention convened at New Hope Church, which sat on the main highway (Mississippi 9) between Eupora & Calhoun City. The remaining singers discontinued their visits to Calhoun County due to disability or they passed away. The last attempt at a singing was summer 1983 or 1984, I’m really not sure. The Webster County Convention went the way of many others in our state. They’re gone but not forgotten.
My memory of this was stirred when I read the J-card from a cassette recording from a convention in the north (somewhere in New England, I’m thinking). It included a list of singings begun in recent years. For every singing listed on that cassette, there is a singing in The South (such as the Webster Convention) that no longer exists, somewhere here in The South. I appreciate the efforts of all you folks around the country that have started singing groups, conventions, etc. In your own way, you’re preserving this fine old tradition we fondly know as Sacred Harp.
You may preserve the sound and the music. Unfortunately, you can’t preserve people, places, and time, nor the lost days of youthful boys.
Mark S. Davis Pearl, Mississippi
