Archive for July, 2014

Revival Time

This is the way it was for me to.


For as long as I can remember, summer has meant one thing – revival. Numerous weeks of morning and night revival services. My mother, like her mother before her, and her mother before her, was raised going to little foot washing Baptist churches scattered throughout North Georgia. Most of them only meet once a month, which allowed people to visit each other on their home churches’ off Sundays. Each little church had its own week long revival during the summer.

Daddy was a Catholic when Mama met him, but when I was three, he was saved and not long afterwards, he was called to preach.

By the time I was seven, my Daddy was running revivals, first as a helper, then as a pastor. We spent Saturday nights at conference, where the church conducted its business. We spent Sunday mornings in church and Sunday afternoon at church members’ houses. If…

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Haley Morgan Smith Blog

Why, hello people I love.

Before I continue writing, note that this blog is PG-13. I’m gonna talk about sex. So. Fair warning.

Picture this. You’re in the kitchen warming up supper and your husband comes home from work. He says hello, kisses you, and lays a plastic bag on the counter. In the plastic bag is book with a naked lady on the cover in a provocative pose. You get on Facebook, and you see he has liked the fan page of the book. You see that he has shared the book’s movie trailer on his page. You see that he is discussing with all his guy friends publicly who should  be the actress portraying the naked girl on the book cover. He is discussing which lady in Hollywood is the hottest, has the biggest breasts and butt, prettiest face, etc. He is saying how he wishes the naked lady’s…

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Watermelon Picking

By Trent Tibbitts

When you growing up in the country there is always a watermelon patch close by. I have heard stories all my live from men of my father’s generation, who, when young would sneak in to a watermelon patch and take one or two down to the creek for a treat. Much to the disappointment of the owner of the patch. Some would get caught and take a beating for it and some would get away with the crime.

With knowing those stories, I find this next one very amusing. It comes from my grandmother. Today is the first time I have heard of this story. It was among items of her’s that my mother has in storage. I believe she wanted to share it and that is why she typed it out so many years ago. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Copy of story from Mrs. Polly Bone.

Back around age 13 or 14 (1933 or 1934) – I was living in Royston, Georgia and had a friend, who lived in Vanna, Georgia – He wanted a date with a girl in Royston – so I obliged and also got one for myself.
He came up from Vanna that July night driving his daddy’s 1926 or 27 Model-T Ford – I remember it had roll-up windows.
We picked up the girls and were riding around – Wasn’t much to do in those days but ride around.
I mentioned the fact that old man so and so had a watermelon patch about one-fourth mile from the center of town; it was close to the road.
The girls decided it would be exciting – if we parked next to the patch, I could be the hero and borrow a big melon from the patch.
I knew the man who owned the patch – he was a fractious man – easy to loose his temper – so we did not bother to get his permission.
We parked and I eased out of the car into the patch – it was a dark night and I was feeling around trying to find a big one – I heard a noise in the cornfield next to the melon patch – then a big shadow stepped out of the corn and let out a bad curse word!
It scared me so bad, I jumped about 4 feet into the air and hollared, (I really think I scared him also, as it was dark and neither of us could see the other too well).
As I descended to the ground, I was already running over corn stalks; headed back to the T – Model; when I went by the T – Model, I hollared to my friend – “He’s out there” – about that time, a gun went off – I heard the bullet whiz by; so i never did break speed – I heard my friend trying to crank the T – Model as I was swiftly moving out of sound range.
I was up town standing on the corner when they came driving up.
The old fellow who owned the melon patch was up town the next morning – telling everybody he shot at a so and so, in his melon patch last night.
I am glad he didn’t shoot me – as it would have been on his conscience the rest of his life.
seriously – I know the Good Lord saved me and taught me a lesson; thereafter, I thumped my melons in the daytime and paid cash.

The End.

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