Root Jumper by Justine Felix Rutherford

became our turn for the preacher, everyone became excited, and he would receive several invitations for dinner. We kids were always happy to see the preacher come because that meant “good eats.” The preacher always brought his kids to our house. They were even meaner than we were.
    We kids would run down a couple of chickens from the back yard. Mom would fry them up and serve them with mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans plus a wonderful dessert or two. There was one thing about it—the preacher kept the chicken population down!
    Usually our preachers were of two types—the Hell Fire type and the Godly Love variety. The majority were the Hell Fire type, and they were generally considered the most effective. On a clear evening with the church windows all open, you could hear them for miles. These preachers were in demand.
    No one could ever imagine the revivals we had in the hill communities sixty years ago. Our church was relatively quiet. We didn’t get the Spirit, I guess. But oh the revival we had when other churches came to visit. All the churches came together for revival. The church would be full. People came from across the hills and hollows carrying their lanterns for light.
    The altars would be lined with people “getting religion.” Other people would be beseeching them to “pray through.” One man got so excited that he was heard to tell the man to “pray like hell.” People would be shouting and laughing. Some of the ladies wore in their hair what they called “rats.” Their hair was wound around the head and pulled up over the hair pieces. They would get so happy and jump around so much that the “rats” would come loose. Most of the ladies had long hair and their hair would be swinging back and forth. Their handkerchiefs would be waving. The men would be jumping up and down, sometimes jumping over the seats.
    I remember these two ladies who always came to the revival. One was about six feet tall and the other, her mother, was ninety years old. The mother was a tiny little lady, but they both could dance like you wouldn’t believe. This little ninety-year-old could dance forward and backward with the most intricate steps. She looked like a little pixie with her grey hair flying. We kids danced too. Sometimes we played jacks under the seat. Sometimes we found some old paper and drew pictures. When we got tired, we crawled up onto the hard seats and went to sleep. Often these meetings lasted for hours if they were having success. The revival would go on for weeks. They wanted everyone to receive the “Spirit.” There was this one night when the large lady picked me up and swung me around. I hung on for dear life. I knew if she let loose of me, I would wind up smashed against the wall.
    After we got saved, we were expected to testify. I remember when I got saved that the children were expected to testify also. I pretended for weeks to be sick to keep from testifying, but I finally got nerve enough to testify for my Lord. Sometimes the kids would testify for ten minutes. One older boy was testifying and he got so carried away that he said he was so “damned happy.” When he realized what he had said, he was really embarrassed. It was a long time before he had the nerve to testify again.
    There were two preachers that I just barely remember. One was Henry Schlegel. He was always talking to the congregation about swearing. He was always extolling the people, especially the young people, how wrong it was to “cuss.” One evening after plowing ground all day, he was preaching and he said, “I was using the root jumper plow today. It hit me in the side and I said ‘umm.’” These men worked all day at the farm, cut timber for their fire wood, and walked for miles to carry the word of God.
    A lot of men had fox hounds. At one time, they needed the fox pelts to sell for an income. Also the foxes would raid and clean out a chicken house in one night. I think that later these men just liked to