It’s been a tradition for years that during the month of August, those of us who attend Inman United Methodist Church sing hymns from the little brown Cokesbury hymnals.
Sometimes, on those Sunday mornings, I’m disappointed to see that the powers that be have passed over the old favorites selected a song that most of us aren’t familiar with. Like a lot of others in the congregation who can’t read the notes, I mostly mumble through them. (My cousin SJ Overstreet used to console me by pointing out that it likely would be years before we sang that song again.)
Mostly we sing the old standards that I and others like me have been singing since our childhoods. I call them “toe-tapping” songs because most of them have a lively beat that makes you want to tap along with the music.
I also prefer the toe-tapping songs in the modern hymnals, especially for the closing hymns. I firmly believe what the late racing promoter Bud Lunsford once told me. Bud said you should close out any public event, whether it’s a church service or a stock car race, with the best you have to offer. Let folks walk away with a smile on their face and a skip in their step rather than on a down note – literally.
Our little church has been lucky over the years to have some good musicians to carry that part of the service. Our current pianist and organist, Frank Stembridge, is very talented and seems to really enjoy his role. We are lucky to have him.
Years ago, Susan Campbell, the wife of our then-pastor David Campbell, led our music program. She has a terrific voice as anyone who attended my dad’s funeral a few months ago can attest. She’s a great cook too and sometimes prepared our church’s Wednesday night meals by herself.
But my all-time favorite Inman piano player was my great aunt Doris Harp. Her son Mickey said he doesn’t know how she learned the piano. He does know that her mother, his grandmother Clara McElroy (Mac Mac to her grandchildren), paid for her first piano with money earned from raising and selling cut flowers.
Aunt Doris played the piano – and later the organ too – in the Inman Church for 54 years, beginning in the old sanctuary on John Street and later in the church’s current building.
Her enthusiasm for the old standards made those songs even more memorable.
This past Sunday we sang “Wonderful Words of Life.” I can remember hearing her playing the music and singing along enthusiastically like it happened last week instead of decades ago.
Her son Donald Harp, Jr. grew up in our church and went on to become one of the most prominent ministers in the state. I often wonder how much her playing and singing influenced his career path.
I also remember Aunt Doris for her help in getting Joanne adjusted to life as a farmer’s wife. Her husband was one of the smartest people I ever knew and one of the best farmers.
Uncle Donald & Aunt Doris Harp. Photo credit: France Reeves
Many a summer evening, Joanne and I would drive up to Uncle Donald and Aunt Doris’ house at the end of John Street for a visit. (I never did get any of her Australian Shepherd dogs to like me, even though I’m a dog person, but that’s a story for another day.)
Uncle Donald would advise me about farming, and Aunt Doris helped Joanne adjust to the unfamiliar role of farmer’s wife.
She knew just what to tell Joanne to keep her from taking the next bus out of town when she was frustrated with farming and with me.
It was a hard life at that time, and Joanne – like Doris in the early years of her marriage – was doing the work of two or three men, often with little to show for it.
Those evening visits were some of the best times of our lives.
Society as a whole would be lots better off if we went back to porch visits in the evenings instead of sitting at home staring at the screens of our smart phones.
And we’d be better off to focus on the old time-honored church songs.
“Sing them over again to me
Wonderful words of life.”