Notches in my Bible Belt

“Are we going to Church today?” Growing up in East, TN, you shouldn’t even ask such a foolish question. It’s just a fact of life. Love it or hate it, you’re going to church.

Everyone knows that East, TN is part of the “Bible belt.” While that may be unsettling to some folks, it gives me a sense of pride. Now granted, when I was a kid back in the 70’s, there were times when I wished that the belt had been loosened just a tad, but all in all I love every aspect of religion, church, worship, singing, and everything that goes along with it.

I have had several “religious” influences in my lifetime; below I have listed 2 of those influences, my papaw Spencer, and my great uncle Hall. Without either of these men in my life, I would not be the same person that I am today. I loved them both and I miss them tremendously.

Rev. James Edward Spencer
Back in the 50’s and 60’s, my papaw, James Edward Spencer, was one of the most popular preachers in all of Knox County, heck maybe even East, TN. I called him “Paw.” He was a tall, lanky man, filled with the Spirit of God. He preached hell-fire and damnation, but he also preached of God’s love and forgiveness. One thing that made his sermons great was his showy antics. For example, when he preached of the Prodigal Son, he would open the side door of the church and call out as if the long lost son was out there somewhere; he also got down on his hands and knees and ate from an imaginary hog’s troft. To demonstrate Zacchaeus climbing up in a tree to see Jesus, papaw would climb in the window seal of the church or scale a revival tent pole.

In 1942, Paw was one of the original founders of Highland Baptist Church. Then, 12 years later, in 1954, he founded North Acres Baptist Church, where he preached for 19 years, right up until his death.

A few of my fondest memories of Paw are: Going with him to Mitchell’s barbershop. The way he gave us kids birthday whippings with a flyswatter. The time he flipped backwards out of his hammock with a big dip of snuff in his mouth. How he would serve us all vanilla ice cream with RC Cola on top of it. How he used to call my baby sister, “Butterball.” When he used to take me to Scotties hamburgers over on Rutledge Pike. This list would have been a lot longer, but sadly, in 1972, when I was 6 years old, Paw was stricken with Lymphoma and died. The impact he made on my life in just 6 short years is pretty remarkable. I can only imagine all of the wonderful things that I was robbed of due to losing him.

Rev. Adral Glenn Hall Sr.
My great uncle, the Reverend Adral Hall, was also a preacher. He was a little more “citified” than my papaw was. His sermons were a little more relaxed and he was softer spoken. I don’t recall hearing any “hell-fire and brimstone” messages from him; however, I wasn’t present in as many his services as I was Paw’s.

Uncle Adral, and aunt Parlie, lived off of Clinton Hwy, on Allen Drive. My sisters and I would spend the night with them on occasions. It was our chance to visit the “city.” Things were vastly different on Clinton Hwy than they were on Maloneyville Rd. For instance, at night when trying to sleep, you could hear cars buzzing up and down the road, horns blowing, and people talking. I was not used to that. The only things at my house that I heard at night were frogs, crickets, whippoorwills, and the midnight train that ran along the tracks in the field across from us.

On our visits, Adral would wait on us hand and foot. He poured us juice in the morning, brought us hot biscuits right out of the oven, and just fussed over us the entire time we were there. He always wore “dress clothes.” Nice slacks, button up long-sleeved shirts, and a tie. After breakfast he would be off to visit folks at the hospitals and nursing homes, and to take care of church business. Rev. Hall was a very respected man all over town.

Uncle Adral pastored several churches; the one that I remember the most was Elm Street Baptist church in Knoxville. That is where I accepted Christ as my Savior. It was during Vacation Bible School, back in 1973, I was 8 years old. I remember sitting through the preaching service and it came time for the invitation. Everyone was standing and singing, “Just As I Am.” My heart was pounding out of my chest; I was gripping the pew in front of me so hard that my fingers were hurting. I had been feeling conviction for quite some time but this time was more than I could stand. I heard uncle Adral beckon, “If you are out there and you are lost, don’t put it off any longer…come. If you leave here tonight without being saved, you don’t have the guarantee that you will ever get the opportunity again…come.” All of a sudden I felt the chains just fall from my shoulders. I practically ran up to the front. I was bawling my head off and it was right there on that altar, with my uncle Adral’s arms wrapped around me, that I uttered the sinner’s prayer and accepted Christ as my Savior. Never before had I felt such relief.

Uncle Adral passed away on January 10, 1999. Now all I have to remember him by are my memories and a grave marker in Union Cemetery. I visit his gravesite occasionally and wonder if he would be proud of me today, or if I would be a disappointment. I wish that I had spent more time with him during his last days.
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My next post, I intend to write about the wives of these two great influences in my life, Granny Spencer, and Aunt Parlie.