As everyone knows, things can happen in small communities -- especially in Texas, that are just as well not talked about.
I can recall several incidents that were widely whispered about, but rarely talked about openly. Mainly, I recall this particular situation, because I had never heard the expression "tarred and feathered" before.
Our community consisted mostly of farmer and rancher families, two small general stores, our 12-grade school, and our church. In fact, our school board members were usually the same people as our church board members. The church was right across the highway from the school, and most of us were of the same denomination.
Well, one day along came Brother MacBeth. He was a small, handsome, dark-bearded young preacher about 35 with a wife who could kindly be described as portly, and two young grade-school-age daughters. Brother MacBeth was immediately hired as the church's new minister. He was a powerfully influential and active preacher. He began regularly visiting all families throughout the community. His ministerial ability was highly respected, without question. Our church membership grew rapidly; in fact, I joined the church at the age of 11, and Brother MacBeth baptized both me and my father at the same time.
Oh yes, Patsy Ruth Wheeler, the teen-aged daughter of the president of the board of elders, began rededicating her life practically every Sunday morning.
Then, the rumors started. Many wives and older daughters began showing up pregnant.
Well, that's one way of growing membership. But things got out of control. One day, Mr. Wheeler, president of the school board, president of the church board, and president of Westfield Natural Gas Company, came home unexpectedly and caught Brother MacBeth and the president's wife engaged in extra-marital activity.
Everything hit the fan! There was much comparison of notes and activities, several divorces, and the afore-mentioned "tarring and feathering" was whispered about. Whether or not such a thing actually occurred, I do not know, but suddenly Brother MacBeth and his family were gone from the church parsonage, and we had numerous substitute preachers for the next few months until a new minister was hired.
A few years later, a whole new generation of teen-agers was leery about the possibility of being related unknowingly to someone else. And I never heard mention of Patsy Ruth Wheeler rededicating her life again.
I do not wish to reflect badly on the religious aspect of any community, but it did happen, and was whispered about for many years. To borrow the old line, "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times."
-- Louis Houston is a resident of Siloam Springs. His book "The Grape-Toned Studebaker" is available locally and from Amazon.com. Send any questions or comments to [email protected] or call 524-6926. The opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 09/17/2014