Mama Was a Preacher

Mama was a Preacher Chapter Two Fort Smith and beyond Copyright 1996 AUTHOR22@aol.com All rights reserved.

Though mother had made her decision to become the Reverend Gregory's assistant pastor, the actual seperation from the Crabtree community was a painful event.

We were both excited about "going on the road," but for different reasons. From her perspective this opportunity allowed her to serve god in a more fulfilling way. From mine, it was the adventure. To me going on the revival circuit was akin to joining the circus. There were tents, saw dust, and new people.

It hadn't even dawned on me that I would lose the most important person in my life.

Wednesday mama got all our things packed away in the trailer, and Thursday she backed the car up to our home, connected the hitch, and made ready for our departure Friday.

We would park behind the revival tent Friday and Saturday nights, then Sunday everyone was expected to pitch in; tear down the tent, pack everything away, clean up the again vacant lot, visit the local churches Sunday, then depart for Fort Smith early Monday morning.

Thursday night Jerry and I spent our last night together at the river. We cuddled around each other, sharing our appreciation. It was only then that we both began to realize what mama's decision meant to us.

Jerry hugged me closer and kissed me. I could feel tears on his cheeks as his little tongue wetted my lips. We talked of his running away and joining our crusade, but we both knew that could not happen any more than if I wanted to stay with the Osbornes while mama was on the road.

As we talked an idea began to form, and we decided to ask mama and the Osbornes if Jerry could come with us for the two weeks in Fort Smith.

Mama said that it was a wonderful idea, but Mrs. Osborne was less enthusiastic. In the end, it was agreed that if the Gregory's said OK, he could come with us. Then on the way from Fort Smith to Little Rock we would put him on the bus at Conway. He would hitch hike from Clinton to Crabtree.

This last minute decision meant that Jerry had to hurriedly get his things together, and put them in the trailer.

The entire community had come by early Friday morning, lingering tearful good-bye's. Many of the families brought food for us to take on our travels. There was the ever present potato salad, three apple pies. Widow Smith brought a beautiful cake that she had decorated "We Love U," then in small letters that were almost illegible "please come back."

As we started to drive away, Mr. Osborne gave mama an envelope, and said "We took up a collection to help you with your travels." He then leaned over and kissed her firmly on the lips. Mama began to cry as she opened the envelope. It contained $175.00. One Hundred Seventy Five Dollars was a lot of money in that community; our neighbors had dug very deeply in their meager savings to donate that amount.

My last memory of Crabtree came as I leaned out of the window, looking back at those wonderful people standing in the middle of that dirt road waving good-bye.

A revival meeting is good business for all the churches in a community. The routine of attending regularly scheduled services each and every week becomes a bit dull. Each minister tries to liven things up a bit, putting as much creativity into his sermons as he can; but the same person conducting services to the same congregation week in and week out becomes something like driving a truck down a deeply rutted road: You could go to sleep at the wheel and still get to your destination.

However revival meetings got things stirred up. The entire community joined together in the tent. People who had drifted away from the church were drawn back into it. Revival meetings improved attendance, gave the local ministers a break from their routines, and provided a fresh perspective for all.

Though the Gregory's took very little money to sustain themselves, the other expenses were heavy. Upon arrival in a new town, Mr. Gregory would visit each church, and with their help find a suitable vacant lot. It was necessary to advertise in the local newspaper, and that usually required money. Getting electricity installed, obtaining the necessary municipal permits, labor to wrestle the tent into position and hoist it, saw dust, piano rental, etc., etc. all required cash. Of course a collection was taken at each meeting. It was agreed that the local ministers would conduct a "Revival Meeting Thank You" collection on the last Sunday. The Gregory's would separate with each going to a different church to help with the collection. Before mama joined them they could only visit eight churches: two each Sunday morning, and two each Sunday night. Now with mama they could cover all of the churches and increase the length of time spent in promoting the collection; and of course that meant more money to help with the overwhelming expenses.

While merchandise, land rental, food, and even labor might be donated, gasoline was not. Now that mama was traveling with them, they needed gasoline for two vehicles, and at nearly twenty cents a gallon, that was a substantial and constant expense.

It wasn't until early Sunday morning that I got a look at the mechanics of a revival meeting. The Gregorys traveled in a big white bus, that bore signs promoting god and tent meetings. The vehicle had been acquired from some school district, with the original yellow paint showing through in various places. The rear door had been widened so that the tent, poles, and chairs could be transported. There was a platform on the top of the bus that could be used for additional storage. After they got to their destination, and unloaded, the bus then served as a place for them to live.

Jerry and I were both thirteen, yet I could have passed for eleven, while Jerry could have passed for fifteen. Not only was he taller, and heavier than me, the constant work on the farm had filled out his chest and legs with firm, well toned muscles. His clothes were always handed down from his older brothers, and were usually too small for him, thus highlighting his well formed body. On the other hand I still had a bit of baby fat. My body was just now starting that adolescent growth. My legs were too long for my body. My dick had grown a little, but was no where near as big as Jerry's. A few pubic hairs had started to grow. My face couldn't seem to decide whether I was a teenager or pre-pubescent.

The sun had just begun to lighten the sky when the Gregorys rousted us from our beds and assigned Jerry and I the task of slowly loosening the ropes of the tent. They did the same thing on the other side, thus collapsing the canvas upon the ground. The side panels had already been removed, and rolled into labeled bundles. While the top was also made of separate panels, it was raised and lowered as a single piece. If we were not careful in lowering the top, the weight could get away from us allowing it to rush downward, and possibly be damaged on the poles or stakes. It was hard work, and if it hadn't been for Jerry, I would have lost it.

Once the tent had been completely disassembled and stowed in the bus, the folding chairs had to be placed on top. Then we raked up the saw dust into piles and shoveled it into bags. It was important that we leave the vacant lot clean, and better than when the Gregorys had arrived if we intended to return to Clinton next year.

There were more than just the five of us as Reverend Gregory had recruited several husky farmers who had responded to the call for sinners during last nights services.

This work was completed before eleven o'clock. Mama, Jerry, and I were to visit both the Church of God and the Nazarene to help with their "Thank You" collections. We were given four hand embroidered collection bags that read "Helping to Spread the word of God," and it was these bags that were passed down the aisles amongst the congregation.

We had been told that it was important that we were there as a support to the church's own minister. Their congregation would be more giving when the request came from their pastor. Mama suggested that Jerry and I contribute a Capella duet during the actual collection. At the conclusion, all she would need to do is to give a short message of "Thank You," before we departed.

That afternoon we five gathered in our trailer and counted the offerings. We had collected almost twice what the Gregorys had. Again, about 11 o'clock that night we again compared the evenings "Thank You" collections. We had collected much more than Mr. and Mrs. Gregory. Clearly, our Capella duet was having an effect on the congregations.

It was well past midnight when we finally got to sleep. Both Jerry and I were excited about the effect our singing was having. Mama said it was the hand of the lord, trying to show us a better way to serve him. But we knew that it was our love for each other that was the inspiration. Looking back we all might have been correct, as the lord proves repeatedly that he moves in mysterious ways.

Even though Fort Smith was less than 150 miles from Clinton, the Gregorys had us "up and on the road" before day light. We traveled south to Conway, then west toward Fort Smith, passing through Van Buren in mid morning.

The "next revival" was never more than 200 miles away. This gave the Gregorys the opportunity of scouting the next city before leaving the present one. A vacant lot had been rented from a local banker, Mr. Hiram Nickdeman; he also owned several movie theaters, and Radio Station KWHN. Nickdeman had resisted the reverends attempts to donate the use of the lot, but had agreed to our being a guest on our favorite live music show, "The Morning Gospel Hour.

The vacant lot was located half way between downtown Fort Smith and an Army Base. Mr. Gregory was certain that many soldiers and their families stationed at the base would attend our meetings.

It took most of the day to unload the bus. Mr. Gregory gave us a drawing showing just where each piece should be placed. Each bundle was labeled, and those labels were also on the drawing.

It took both Jerry and me to carry each panel, and still it seemed to drag in the middle. Eventually we had the whole thing laid out.

Next came putting ropes on the poles. Then with the help of 3 big black men the two center poles were hoisted high into the air.

It was almost sunset before we had everything in its place. The tent was up, the ropes had been staked into the ground, the saw dust had been spread, the platform had been assembled, and even the chairs were now in straight rows.

We were exhausted. That had been hard work. Watching Jerry move about, his muscles bulging from his too tight shirt and pants made it all worth while. His smile was a constant reminder that he enjoyed being with me as much as I enjoyed being with him.

Mother fixed dinner for us all. She had made a beef stew, rich with potatoes, carrots, and celery.

During dinner Mrs. Gregory explained that promotion was free advertising, and that it was necessary that we work together in spreading the word about the revival. We could do a lot more now that there were five of us. In the past, the Gregorys would usually sing at churches, picnics, sing outs, or even on street corners. The KWHN "Morning Gospel Hour" was an unusual opportunity.

The good Reverend had a deep baritone voice. His wife's voice was just a shade higher in pitch. The tone of Jerry's voice was much higher, with mine being the highest; almost a soprano. Mama fell about halfway between Mrs. Gregory and Jerry.

However, despite the richness of the baritone voice, his vocal cords were not very stable. His range was limited, less than 6 notes, with the upper end wavering in pitch. He would try to compensate for that by switching keys in those upper registers to the lower end of the same octave. His wife would try to cover for him by increasing the volume of her singing; but if they sang more than one duet anyone would rapidly catch on to the fact that the Reverend Raymond Gregory was not a very good singer.

Ruth (Mrs. Gregory) mentioned that we were all to be guests on the radio tomorrow morning. The program was broadcast live from the KWHN studios between 11:30 and 12:30. We were to sing only one song, but she figured if we were really good, they would ask us to sing more. So Monday night we rehearsed until almost midnight.

Tuesday started very early. Mother made pancakes for everyone. Ruth and Ray were already seated at our small table when Jerry and I woke.

We were not happy about the sleeping arrangements. We couldn't sleep naked, and even our wrapping around each other seemed untoward. Now, this morning, the Gregorys were seated less than five feet from where we were trying to hide under the covers.

Ruth had heard a new gospel number on the radio and wanted us to try it. She could not express herself by voice as well as she could on the keyboard, so shortly we took our pancakes and milk out to the tent.

"I Believe in Miracles" sounded vaguely familiar. This early morning music started our day with a bounce. Our youthful voices wanted to explode into the universe. It was only the piano that kept us bridled to the real world. Then as with a jockey on his horse, Ruth let out on the reigns allowing Jerry and me to gallop away, taking the number where we wanted it to go. Mother, Ruth, and Ray were providing vocal backup. It was exhilarating.

We were told to be at the KWHN Studios in the 400 block of Garrison by 10:00. The Morning Gospel Hour was a daily, live, radio show organized by the stations program director.

There were several local singing ensembles, that competed with each other to produce the show on a week to week basis. Transient gospel groups would be featured, but when they were unavailable the locals would provide the talent. If one of the transient groups were going to be in town for a full week, the radio show would be turned over to them.

We parked our car directly in front of the KWHN Studios. The station was on the second floor of a two story building, with the ground floor being occupied by a record store.

The top of the stairs ended in a large office. We were greeted by Howard Harvey, the stations Program Director. He guided us through a door that faced the top of the stairs, and into their studio.

The room was square, and only about 15 foot across. To the left was a large plate glass window through which you could see a DJ talking into a microphone and spinning records. There were four rows of folding chairs.

Harvey introduced us to a young fellow sitting at the piano. His name was Jackie Marshall. He wasn't much older than Jerry's brother Todd. He was dressed in tan slacks and a light brown tee shirt. His hair was a dark brown, cut short. He was larger and heavier than Jerry, but not nearly as big as Todd.

Jackie was in charge of this week's program. He and Ruth discussed the selection that we intended to present. Jackie explained that we would only sing, and he would tell the radio audience about the revival meeting.

Ruth replaced Jackie at the piano and we performed one of the numbers we had rehearsed Monday night, "Give me that Old Time Religion."

Jerry and I were really warmed up. Our youthful exuberance literally wrestled control from the others.

Jackie looked surprised, then suggested that Ruth join the others and he would play the piano ... just for the moment to see how it would sound.

Within the first four bars of the song we knew why Jackie was a piano player. His hands moved across that keyboard so fast that they were a blur. The written music was only a guide to where he was going, not on how to get there. He also never relinquished control. The sounds from his piano always led to where we wanted to go, but also kept us restrained. Then he would unleash our spirits at points where he knew it would be the most effective.

At eleven o'clock the other members of Jackie's group arrived. Our party was seated in the front row. At eleven fifteen the studio doors were opened for anyone who wanted to see the show. And by air time all seats were occupied.

Jackie's group, the "Hamlen Brothers," were a quartet who traveled the gospel circuit performing at schools, churches, and any other place in which they might be welcome.

They opened the program with "Swing Low Sweet Chariot," then introduced our group by telling the radio audience that we were part of the Revival Meeting located on Rogers Avenue close to Fort Chafee.

We replicated our performance of "Give me that Old Time Religion" with resounding success. Our studio audience clapped and stomped their feet yelling "more... more."

Without prompting, Ruth leaned into the microphone and asked Jackie, "Do you know 'I Believe in Miracles'."

Not only did he know the song, he made Ruth sound like a beginner at the piano. In just this short time he had developed a relationship with Jerry and me that again allowed him to "produce" what he wanted. And what he wanted was exactly where we would have wanted to be if we had been given the opportunity to think about it.

Instead of the show allowing us to give a single sample of our talents, Jackie, extemporaneously, featured our music for the entire hour.

During that hour we had sung everything we knew. The audience had eagerly participated. I am not exactly sure how he did it, but Jackie had allowed Jerry and I to solicit, and then exercise control over that small audience while still guiding the program to its exciting conclusion at 12:30.

When that red "On the Air Light" went out, Jackie, Jerry and I were soaked to the skin.

All of a sudden, I realized, it was no longer just "Jerry and me," it had become a threesome. Wow!

Mr. Harvey came into the studio to tell Jackie that he had a telephone call, and then thanked us for coming.

We discussed the radio show all the way back to the tent. It was pretty obvious that Jackie Marshall was an outstanding pianist.

Reverend Gregory needed to prepare his evening sermon for tonight's "Opening" meeting. Mother was to close the meeting, then tomorrow night she would be the speaker. Ruth, Jerry and I needed to concentrate on learning and rehearsing new songs. Today's broadcast had used all of the material we knew.

Reverend Gregory and mother decided to study in the bus, while Ruth, Jerry and I assembled at the piano. Ruth wanted to concentrate on "Softly and Tenderly Jesus is Calling" for the call for sinners at the end of the evening. We had sung this many times, but she felt that we needed to make this come more from the heart, and less from our mouths.

At 4:30 Jackie Marshall came into the tent asking Ruth if he could be part of tonight's service. That surprise offer had the two of us grinning from ear to ear. We both liked Jackie ... and that obviously was a two way street.

She asked if we would like a glass of cold lemonade during our practice, and then left the three of us to our own devices while she went to the bus to prepare the drinks.

Jerry and I placed chairs on each side of the piano stool where we could watch Jackie play.

We had practiced until the evening services were about to begin, and by then had consumed three pitchers of lemonade.

People began to come into the tent; just a few at first, but soon every seat in the tent was occupied. The Reverend Gregory mounted the platform. He laid his bible on the podium, opened it, and adjusted his spectacles. Looking down at the good book his fist came down with a bang as his voice thundered, "And when the people complained, it displeased the LORD: and the LORD heard it; and his anger was kindled; and the fire of the LORD burnt among them, and consumed them that were in the uttermost parts of the camp."

Every eye was riveted to stage. Then very gently, he added, "But in the book of Psalms we find these words: Let all those that put their trust in thee rejoice: let them ever shout for joy, because thou defendest them: let them also that love thy name be joyful in thee."

"Oh brethren, Sing unto the LORD, O ye saints of His, and give thanks at the remembrance of His holiness. For His anger endureth but a moment; in His favor is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."

In the background Ruth's voice could be heard singing "He's got the Whole World in his Hands." Jackie added single notes from the piano as she motioned for Jerry and I to join her. As we added our voices, underscoring the Reverend's words of love and joy, Jackie's piano added more structure. Ruth moved to the front of the stage as Ray sat down. We invited the congregation to join us in song.

Again, that now familiar experience was happening. The audience, Ruth, Jackie, Jerry and I were building an emotional adventure founded on The Reverend's words compounding this shared encounter into a single homogeneous event.

It was almost like stirring one of those giant out door kettles, as the mixture combined into a compound whose ingredients became inseparable from the whole.

Once every person in that tent had become part of this process, The good Reverend resumed his stance behind the podium, again powerfully quoting from the bible, building a cadence of crescendo followed by peace and quiet.

Again, the event embraced music and song. As the evening progressed the episodic valleys became deeper, the peaks higher; the emotions stronger, the total participation more and more involved.

You could feel the shared experience build and build toward an indescribably powerful happening like riding a tidal wave into a crowded beach.

People in the audience were shouting and jumping up and down with joy. Ray moved from the platform down among the congregation, as he passed a young man he placed his hands on his forehead. The lad seemed to be propelled backward from the touch as he sank to the saw dust floor. It happened repeatedly as he simply touched one after another.

Perspiration was literally pouring from Ray's face as he returned to the stage. His shirt was as wet as though he had been standing in a shower, and his face was as red as though he had spent the entire day in the summer sun.

Mother came to the front of the stage as Ray retired to a chair behind the podium. The service was now moving toward the end with the call for sinners to come to the altar. Ruth, Jerry, Jackie and I added our voices in song.

And that was what happened Tuesday night.

Jackie invited Jerry and I to participate in the daily broadcasts, and in turn he became a steady member of the revival.

Each night the experiences were similar, yet distinctive. Every night all seats were occupied. Some people were repeats, but many were first timers.

Something else was happening: Jackie became our teacher. He stripped away the mumbo jumbo and explained the mesmeretic affect that was building these powerfully affective services. In analyzing these performances we could better understand what was occurring, and with that understanding came the ability to use those techniques to achieve the results we worked toward.

The two weeks passed very quickly.

The "Hamlen Brothers" were playing a concert in Memphis, and were leaving Fort Smith the day before our scheduled departure.

Jackie suggested to mama that he drive Jerry to Crabtree as it was less than 50 miles out of his way. It would not only save bus fare, but Jerry wouldn't have to hitch hike from Clinton. She thought that was a great idea. Then, almost as an after thought, Jackie suggested that I accompany them. We would spend the night with the Osbornes, and then meet our revival group in Little Rock the following day.

Jackie arrived just before noon to pick us up. Both Ray and Ruth hugged Jerry, telling how much they were going to miss him. They even suggested that he join them next summer.

Then it was really good-bye. The three of us sat in the front seat, with me in the middle.

"John, I'm glad your mama said you could come along as I've got something to say to the both of you." Jackie patted me on the knee. "In a real short time you are going to have a bull by the tail."

Both Jerry and I looked as confused as we were.

"To begin with, you kids both know that I think you are the greatest, and because of that I'm worried about what happens to you in the next few years. I know you kids are in love with each other... don't bull shit me on that one cause it's written all over your faces every time you sing together.

"Fortunately, you, especially you John, are young enough that people aren't putting two and two together and coming up with SEX. But, as you both mature you will loose that advantage."

Jerry and I both turned beet red.

"The reason I know what's going on is that I've been there myself. Hell, if I were sleeping in the same bed with either of you, and your peckers had you turned on I couldn't stop myself. I'm a very sexy guy, when my dick get's hard I loose control. It's a good thing I'm not double jointed or I'd suck my own dick every chance I had.

"John you are going to be exposed to a lot of people while traveling along with your mama. Also, you are a natural born performer with a voice and a talent that cannot be ignored. You are going to meet all kinds of people, both male and female who will throw themselves at you, inviting you to have very personal and sexual relations with them. Now here is where the shit hits the fan. For a reason I have yet to understand those same people can turn on you, and make that relationship public. So you have to put your cock in a harness and make sure those times are ONLY with someone you can trust.

"Real love usually creates sexual opportunities. Don't let that get you confused, because sexual opportunities frequently occur without love.

"John, last night when you really got into "Daddy Sang Bass", and I made that key change you jumped backward, wiggling that little butt of yours. That was the sexiest thing I have ever seen. I almost came in my pants. But you gotta be aware of the affect you are having on people.

"God gave us our sexual equipment and our sexual appetites. People have a way of interpreting God's will to support their beliefs ... so the last word is it's OK to feel sexy, but be careful who you show that sexuality to."

I started to say something, but didn't know how to put my questions into words. But Jerry surprised me "Does it really show that much?"

"Of course it does."

"Well what should we do about it?"

Jackie replied, "Well I guess you don't have to do anything about it right now, because you will be home within just a few hours, and John will be with his Mama by the end of day.

"How far has the sexual exercise gone?"

Jerry didn't seem to be embarrassed. "John can't cum yet, and I've only been able to for about six months. That isn't where my problem is. I want to cuddle up to John and sleep naked with him. I'd like to share his first squirting. We sleep naked together, and I almost always wake up with my pecker stiff and sandwiched between his legs. Sometimes we wrestle and I squirt."

"Well, just remember what I've told you two. If EVER either of you need me I'll be by your side as quickly as possible. To me, you are both very special, and as a twosome you have something that many people never have."

Jerry reached over and felt Jackie's crotch. "You got a stiffie haven't you?"

Jackie laughed. "It would take a saint not to when around you kids."

The road from Conway to Clinton is mostly up hill, with the road from Clinton to Crabtree being all up hill.

Jackie's model "A" Ford didn't have a real back seat, but it did have something that he called a "Rumble Seat". It was similar to a car's trunk except that it opened from the top rather than the bottom. As you pulled it up and back a seat was exposed providing seating for two passengers. It was almost like riding in a convertible.

In Conway we stopped for gasoline before turning off the main road to head toward Clinton, and I asked if Jerry and I could ride in the back.

As we left the town behind Jerry reached down under his feet, and pulled his old comforter onto our laps. It was a hot summer day, so at first that didn't seem like a good idea. However, Jerry had reached over and pulled my hand into his crotch. He was naked from the waist down. "Come on, take yours off to."

His hand was wrapped around my very hard little cock. Without further invitation I wrapped mine around his.

"Jackie said a couple of things that got me to wondering. Remember what he said about it was a good thing he wasn't double jointed?" I nodded that I did.

Jerry slid down on the floor, completely covered by the comforter. He pushed my legs apart, and moved between them. His hot breath was moving from my inner thighs to my belly button. Then he kissed my stomach. Without further warning he put my very stiff little cock into his mouth where he slurped up and down along the shaft. It was incredible. Then an entirely new feeling started. It was almost a tickle. It started somewhere deep inside of me. It felt like it could have been inside of my gut, or even up my butt hole. The feeling grew and it was not a tickle, it was something new and very different. It crept from deep within me up through my balls, and into my shaft. My hands were on his head as it moved up and down, his lips caressing my weenie. As the feeling developed and moved upward the sensation was spiraling totally out of my control. My pelvis moved upward while my hands were guiding him downward.

Then it happened!

It was like I had leapt free of the earth from an airplane, or a cliff. I soared into a space that I had never even imagined existed.

Then just as suddenly my entire being relaxed into the most tranquil state that I had ever felt, all but my heart was very still. My heart was overflowing with the love I now felt.

Jerry sat back in the seat "I got my wish."

"Huh?"

"I told you guys I wanted to share your first squirting."

We rolled the blanket back into a bundle, and put it back on the floor, but not before we had put our pants back on.

At Clinton Jackie stopped the car, and asked that we sit in front with him. He needed directions on how to get to Crabtree.

This time I was sitting in the middle.

The dust from the dirt road was swirling up behind us. My true love was sitting so close that his odor permeated my being. The world was a wonderful place.

In Crabtree we turned on to the rough little road that took us up past the School and then to the Osbornes.

Mrs. Osborne insisted that we have lunch. Then the three of us walked down to our special place on the river. Jackie went for a walk.

Jerry and I were standing alone along side the running water. Tears were in his eyes as he embraced me, holding me tight against his chest. He then kissed me and said "I love you. I don't know how I'm going to get along without you." He gently pushed me away. "Here, you take our comforter. It will always remind you of just how much I miss you."

My arms encircled the keepsake, holding it to my breast as though it was Jerry. He turned, and ran from my sight, heading toward home.

Jackie appeared, and put his arms around my shoulders. "Nothing is for ever ... although some things should be."