Breath our scents, walk our landscape, hear our melodic dialects, delight in our savory morsels, touch each rich texture, and the southern essence remains a mystery. The ethereal south, unfathomable to the five senses, lives in the heart. If you believe in magic, and can survive the devastating passions of an open heart, just possibly, you stand a chance of living a moment as a southerner. Most people aren't brave enough to be southerners, even the ones that are.

Friday, August 19, 2011

The Little Brown Church

I pass this little brown church on my way to and fro.  I snapped a picture of it because it has always held intrigue.  I understand that it is used for storage these days.  With a beautiful pond to the right and just beyond it, the setting is beautiful for a wedding, quiet reflection, or perhaps even a christening or a baptism.  It might would be a money making proposition to fix it up and rent it out for weddings, etc.  I don't know who owns it.  I hate to see it succumb to the elements and become lost to posterity.  But such is the way of the world.  For a while at least, it shall be frozen in time here, Beneath the Carolina Moon.

What follows below, as a connected point of interest, and as a natural dove tail of nostalgia, I offer to you the true story of the original Little Brown Church of American folk music fame.

William Pitts was on his way to visit his bride to be in Fredericksburg, Iowa.  The stagecoach in which he rode stopped at Bradford, which was 14 miles west of Fredericksburg.  He strolled around enjoying the trees, lush green growth, and the gentile rolling hills.  Mr. Pitts found a beautiful spot in a wooded area in the valley that was formed by the Cedar river.  He envisioned a church there, and could not seem to ease the vision in his mind.  Days later, when he returned home, he wrote a poem about the imagined church.


In 1857 he set the lyrics to music and seven years later, Mr. Pitts returned to teach music at the Bradford Academy.  To his surprise, he discovered a small church building being erected on the very spot where he had imagined a church years before.  It was painted brown, because at that time, that was the color of affordable paint.  Mr. Pitts located the copy of his almost forgotten song and at the dedication of the new church building, his singing class from the academy publicly performed  The Little Brown Church for the first time.


Traveling musicians discovered the song, and through the years, its popularity spread throughout country churches.  In time, The Little Brown Church gained its place on the list of American folk music.


Isn't that an awesome story, and awesome church, all brought about by an awesome God.  Awesome!


 


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