First Baptist Church of Carrollton, TX |
Home > Churches >
First Baptist of Carrollton
|
First Baptist Church of Carrollton, TX Submitted by: Ruby Butler Dr. Henry Kinkade remembers his days as Pastor, First Baptist Church, Carrollton, 1947-1949, on the occasion of the 75th Anniversary Celebration, December 9, 1984. I really want to talk to you about some of the most wonderful things, like the precious man that just died. There could not have been a finer Sunday School Superintendent in any way than Mr. Chester Good. He came every time the door was opened and was a very wonderful person/ After World War II, those days in dealing with people like Mr. & Mrs. Wade Fyke and Grandmother Fyke, I remember so well. Many of you only see a road or something named for them. They were absolutely delightful and wonderful Christians, very helpful, solid citizens and enjoyable people to know. One family that was good to know was Mr. & Mrs. Jim Johnston. He was a Deacon of our church, the father of Earl Johnston, and their daughter-in-law is Mrs. Johnston, Texas WMU President. They were interesting friends and got my children into some problems. For example, I never permitted them to have kittens. Mrs. Kinkade and I didn't like to have cats in the house when the children were small. We went to their house and while we were talking, he slipped two kittens under the car seat and when we got back to the parsonage, then we had two cats in the house, which I never wanted. He thought it was the greatest thing he had ever done. Next Sunday night our Preacher's boy, Hal, pastor over in Bethany now, was sitting by his mother. All we had then were fans that come from the funeral home. Hal's fan had a hole in it; his mother had given him some money to put in the offering plate; he was about two years old; Mr. Johnston was the Deacon coming by, so instead if just putting the money in the offering plate, Hal held the fan up and dropped the nickels down through and they went clankity--clankity--clank. Mr. Johnston thought that was the sweetest thing and he reached over and rubbed his head and laughed. Hal started cutting up. His mother picked him up and started out of the church, but just as she started out of that marvelous old frame church and just as they got to the door, Hal said: "Oh, Mama, don't beat me, don't beat me!" Mrs. Kinkade didn't show her face for four or five days because that was more than you were supposed to do at that particular time. Dear people, I remember and I'm sure that a lot of your records have the records of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Good. She wrote so absolutely beautiful and wanted the conference minutes to be so precise. I always remember her in that sense. Glenn Odom kept the church and did everything we could possibly force him to do. He had two lovely girls. I remember how much fun it was heckling them. They lived a door or two down from the church then. When I would see Kathy, I would call her Glenda and when I saw Glenda, I would call her Kathy. They would just become vehement because the pastor never knew their names. As the girls grew older, they realized that I heckled them, so if they wrote me (and I have several notes down through the years as they matured into young women) they would sign the wrong name--just to heckle me. So I didn't know which one really wrote me. Those were the things you remember. One of the greatest experiences was that of baptizing Les Richardson. I went out to the Patrons and borrowed their horses and plowed Mr. Richardson's garden. I really can still do that; I can still harness horses and hitch them to a wagon. I can still hold a breaking plow and plow just like it's supposed to be done. I've moved just a little bit from the furrow to something else. Anyway the interesting thing was that I plowed the garden. By the Partains being so nice to me, I had the opportunity to witness to Mr. Richardson. He wasn't a Christian. Later on Sunday, he said to me as I went out the door, " Come over and help me fix the windmill. It won't work." So I borrowed some tools from a plumber (I can't remember the dear man's name). I went up to him on Sunday and asked him to loan me some pipe wrenches and things that would help fix a windmill. He said, " on Sunday?" I said "on Sunday, but I'll have them back before preaching." He gave me a bunch of stuff and I went out and we fixed the windmill. In a few weeks Les was saved. I had the opportunity of baptizing him, and it was one of those delightful experiences of a lifetime--getting to have my life tied into the life of Les, Mrs. Richardson and the children, Robert and Bonnie, whom I have loved through the years. Mrs. Partains children were dear to me I have enjoyed their fellowship down through the years. I want to tell you about a brother-in-law to the church, dear Homer Clayton. The Claytons were so dear. When I say "brother-in -law to the church", I mean he wasn't a member, but loved it and was good to us and always kept his word. After World War II he made it possible for me to get a new Ford car. I shall never forget that. He was always very generous. I remember times when he would come by and give me or Mrs. Kinkade a fifty dollar bill. We were just paid $200 a month and you can imagine what a gift of $50 dollars was like. We loved Homer Clayton and always thought of him as Brother-in-law to the church. If you have any of them be kind to them--they turn out to be great guys and I appreciate them. There was a fellow in the church that was a young man when I was here by the name of Bill Thompson. Bill was quite a guy! I want you to know he was first class in his relationships. He could move around in those days. Wonderful times were shared. Let me tell you what Roy Gravley did to me. Do you remember Roy? He had a hardware store. He called me one night in the middle of the night (I didn't know it was Roy Gravely). He said to me, "Preacher, I'm Sergeant So and so, and I just got back from the service and I want to get married now so I can leave immediately and go to Shreveport. I'm here and they told me to call you. Will you perform the ceremony?" I said.. "well now sergeant..." He said "Oh, don't turn me down, I have the license and everything, but I just need to get married so I can get going." I said "Okay, let me dress, I'll turn the porch light on. It's up by the church --you come." I turned the porch light on, dressed, ready for it all, and I waited--waited--waited. Roy Gravely had called me. He had been somewhere and got home and thought it would be fun. He told me later he made four trips around the parsonage to see how long the porch light stayed on. That was the kind of friends I had. Those were great guys. While I was here we had a terrible flood; everything was covered with water; they had a maintainer downtown trying to get the people out of the theater. We were out and had to stop on the other side of the hill where Bill Fuller lives (Denton Drive), the only place we could get to with a car. Walter was going through peoples houses. Somebody ran up and said "can't you help?" I put on some old shoes and ran down to a house where some elderly women were stranded. I will never forget-- as we opened the door a tiny table just floated out. I walked in and found those precious women standing in water above their knees, crying and frantic. I said "Now Ma'am, (I don't remember her name) if you'll put your arms around my neck and hold on real tight, I'm going to pick you up and carry you out of here." and she said " Young man, I don't like that." I said "I'm sorry you'll just have to like that, it's the only way I can get you out of here." When I picked her up (she was one of those precious modest women) she couldn't imagine a man caring her. But you know what? I think that's a good word--you use that word a lot in Texas. You know, "I carried my Aunt somewhere, I carried the girls to school, I carried; I carried;" I was just doing it like it was said. I never shall forget when I got that precious woman out, she never said thank you or anything else--she was so modest, so embarrassed that a man would pick her up and carry her. I wondered about her many times. I never did go back; I wouldn't embarrass her for it. I called that night when I got out to where a phone was working and got Mrs. Kinkade out of bed. She didn't know that the dams had all busu up and that water was 36 inches deep downtown. Anyway I said, " Momma, how are you and the children?" She said well come on home and find out for yourself." (It was 12 or 1 o'clock) II said "okay, but I want to tell you, go out on the porch. Don't hang up on me. Go out on the porch and tell me if the water is running into the house." She went out and of course it was lapping up the porch of the parsonage. She came back and said there was a lot of water out there. I told her to stay in and be careful and I would be home as soon as I could cross the creek. The next day -- let me tell you what she did. I had gone to a Lions Club meeting in town and since I had missed one meeting that great bunch of characters gave me an old nanny goat and kid. The requirement was that anyone who missed had to keep the goat in public sight until the next meeting. So that any Lions Club member could go by and see it at any time of the day or night. I thought the church would fire me. I talked to Al Bowman and two or three others and asked them "Please help me get through this thing." So the goat was there the night of the flood. The next day when Mrs. Kinkade went downtown, she saw those guys like Bear Young and Roy Posey and a bunch of characters, and they swore that this is what she said, " You know what? Henry called home last night and the first thing he said on the phone was 'How's old nanny and the kid?'" That was the end of the day for me, personally. We had a marvelous music experience. Mrs. Gladys Kelley played the organ and Mr. Bill Fuller played the piano. Al Bowman led the music and it was first class. I've remembered how wonderful it was and what a sense of good music they had, how excellent it was and what it meant to me, personally, as a pastor how much I enjoyed it--I'll never be able to tell. One funny thing happened. The pastor of the Christian church that was just up the hill, his name was John Graber, a Mennonite. He had gone to school at Dallas Theological Seminary, but a Mennonite from a group that sprinkles. He was a very excellent evangelical preacher and some people were saved and wanted to be baptized. One night he came down to the parsonage and said, " Henry help me. I've never seen anybody baptized and I don't even know how to do it." I said, " Okay" so we went over and locked the doors of the church. I took him to the baptistery and practiced how to baptize. I never would tell the Christians that I did that to him. I baptized him and then I let him baptize me, so that when the time came for him to do the proper thing up there on the hill he could do it. I've thought about that so many times. What a good time we had! You know Bill Fuller? Let me tell you what he did to me. I was preaching through the book of Joshua. One Sunday morning, without thinking I said, "Today I'm going to read from the fourth chapter of Jericho." I did. I read about 18 verses from the fourth chapter of Jericho. I preached from Jericho, had three people saved. When it was all over they came and told me I had used the word entirely in the whole sermon. Well, I was humiliated, but the Lord overruled, and people were saved in spite of my ignorance. Two or three years later I was downtown and stopped the car at the corner of Akard and some street. Here comes Bill Fuller and some business men: he saw me and motioned for me to roll the window down. When I did he yelled loud enough for you to hear him all the way to city hall: " Are you still preaching from Jericho?" That kind of friendship will do you in! Let me say a word of marvelous kindness about neighbors. The Meyers lived across the street; the Logins lived on one side; Mr. & Mrs. Jake Gravely lived on the other and the Rex Goods lived behind us. They were gracious people. They were wonderful to Mrs. Kinkade and me. Those were dear and precious people. One of the girls is now a member of our church (First Baptist, Irving) whose name is Hunt. Nobody could be more gracious, more wonderful and loving than she, her family and children. I want to tell you about Mr. Kimsey. He came to church, he was not very active, but loved good things--better than people thought he did. He was with the bank and I have never forgotten what he did for Mrs. Kinkade and me, and I want to give a testimony of it. When we left here our little girl got very ill and was in and out of the hospital many, many times. I didn't have any money or hospitalization. We had to pay the bills out over a long period of time. He called me one day on the phone and said, "Bro. Henry I know your little girl is in the hospital. You just write a check for it and come by the bank and we'll make a note, then however you and Mrs. Kinkade can pay it off will be alright with me." I left here and was four years at Denton and was in the third year at Irving before I ever got all the notes paid. Mr. Kimsey was wonderful to me. I would just like to tell you that there are a lot more people in the world who care more than you think sometimes--and who do it. His son went into medicine. Another experience--one day a precious woman in the church called me and said, "Bro. Kinkade, My husband hasn't come home. (It was Friday.) He will be at Five Points. Would you go get him for me?" I put on some old clothes and went to Five Points. For you sober people, Five Points is that place down the Highway where "joints" were found on each point at that time. I went down and made the rounds, asking each bartender if Mr. So-in-so had been there. One had just told me that he had gotten so he couldn't walk and was outside leaning against the building. I was young then and didn't worry to much about physical things, because the war had gone on and we had been through a lot of terrible things. I looked at the bartender and said, " I'm going to tell you, Sir, that if that man's paycheck isn't in his pocket when I roll him over, when I come back in here you call the Police because I'm going to clean this place up. I'm going to teach you a lesson about stealing money off men that are drunk." He said, "I never touched him." I said, " that better be true; that better be true." That got the attention of all the other guys that were boozing in there. I went out, rolled him over, got his billfold, and sure enough just about as much money as would take to get him drunk was all that was gone. I walked back in and thanked him and said, " Your word is good and I appreciate you and I'm sorry if I accused you unjustly, but I want you to know, I would have kept my word. If you had done it, don't get any idea that I was running a bluff on you." About that time I turned around and there were two members of our church, sitting in there drinking. They didn't expect to see me there! I turned around and I'm sure I blushed, and they blushed. Finally one of them said, "Oh Reverend, come over and have a coke with us." I said, "Oh no, I've been busy. I came down here for a certain purpose and I'm going to take the man home and help him to get sober and get his money to his precious wife, so they can pay the bills and buy groceries." Those were the things I remember on relationship to dear and precious people. There were a lot of wonderful young people...a lot of good days...people were saved. It was a warm and gentle thing. It was such a delightful thing to pastor this dear church, and I loved it they were good to me. I embarrassed Roy Mitchell, I think more than anything. He came to our house. We had sold all our furniture so I could go to seminary and we didn't have but two chairs. So I rolled out a box for him to sit on, and a box for Mrs. Mitchell to sit on. All we had to eat that night was oyster stew. I asked Roy, " do you like oyster stew?" I could look at him and tell he didn't like it. But I said, "Roy, that's what you'll have to eat tonight, whether you like it or not." That became the friendship of one of the families in our church. The church was good to me. I finished seminary while I was here, and I loved these people. I had a marvelous time sharing in their lives. Many of you know nothing about those difficult days, when we barely had enough money to pay utility bills at times, and money enough to do things that really needed to be done. May God bless you with all the prosperity you have. May you remember: "To him that hath much, of him much is required." I expect a lot of great things from you in the years to come and may God bless you. Thank you for being kind to me. Notes:
|
Carrollton-Farmers
Branch TXGenWeb
Supported by
Edward Lynn Williams
© Copyright
January, 2012