RIDING A GROCERY CART ... FEELING SORT OF GUILTY

   On a recent Wednesday in November around 11 a.m., Barbara, my wife, brought a grocery buggy to our car at Greer’s Walmart parking lot. With knee replacement surgery scheduled four months away, I left my walker in our car and pushed that buggy, hoped to find an electric cart inside the store. None was available. 

  Greer’s Walmart appears to maintain three carts. (An “EZ-Shopper Electric Grocery Cart” lists for $3,000 on the internet.) All were in use. 

Barbara shopped as I waited for someone to return a cart to the in-store parking area near the regular grocery carts. A silver-haired lady on a silent, battery-powered cart soon coasted into the cart parking area.

“You need this?” She asked.

  

“Yes, thanks,” I said. “Bless you.”

  

“Bless you, too,” she said, sliding off the seat and hobbling away with a grocery bag.

  

A white-haired lady came in the front door with her husband who walked with a cane. They looked at my cart, but I pretended not to notice and raced at two-miles-per-hour to catch up with Barbara. I found her on the bread aisle. 

  

Later, turning to follow Barbara down an aisle, I saw the man with a cane. His white-haired wife said to him, “There goes your cart.” 

  

I felt guilty but ignored them. I appeared healthy and didn’t have a cane stuffed into the grocery cage on my cart, so I wondered if they thought I shouldn’t be riding. I’ve heard of teenagers getting carts like mine and whizzing through the store, giggling and causing accidents. I followed Barbara and suggested putting some items my cart’s basket, so I’d appear to be a legitimate shopper.

  

You get a different view when you’re riding a cart in the grocery store. You see products you don’t normally notice. I remember when my late wife, Carol, worked for Oroweat® Premium Breads. I’d hear her talk about the truck drivers’ tales of fighting for store shelf space. I guess “adult eye-level” is the best-selling space.

  

I felt like a child, looking up at shoppers and following Barbara. I probably didn’t have be in the store. Barbara could get the groceries by herself, but Walmart grocery shopping is sort of like a date for us. It’s togetherness. Next to home and church, our grocery store is a “comfort place.” We know the drill: start to the right at the green peppers and proceed down every aisle. It’s a bit like a stroll in the park, except it’s considered “work” and part of the chores of life. 

  

We hit the ice cream aisle — one of my favorite aisles — and we know we’re almost at checkout. You always fear there’ll be lots of folk waiting at “the end of the trail,” but this time, it’s not too bad. Barbara wheels her cart up to a self-checkout terminal and begins the process. Me, I sit on my electric cart, feeling guilty because I’m just sitting. I hit the button that cuts off the power to the cart because I don’t want the battery to weaken while I’m waiting. I wonder if someone is over at the cart parking area, wondering where the carts are. Maybe their knees are paining, and they are desperate to sit down. 

  

Barbara is methodical. Because I’m not helping, as I used to do before my knees went bad, she has to do all the grocery-handling. She’s swiping items across the horizontal screen, and prices are dinging onto the computer screen. Then, she’s bagging items; next, she’s placing bags into her cart. Finally, she’s done, and she pays with a credit card. 

  

I turn on the battery power to my cart and back out of the checkout space — "beep, beep, beep" goes my cart, as it moves backward. 

  

I move to the electric-cart parking area, hobble off the seat, and take hold of Barbara’s full grocery cart. I walk behind that cart as we head out the store door to our car. My knees are stiff from sitting on the electric cart. As we head home, I feel thankful that Walmart has electric carts for us old folk to ride, and I wonder if they’ll need to buy more of those carts as the population ages. 

EARLY MUSIC INFLUENCES AND CHURCH BAND, AS I RECALL IT

  I guess the first songs I recall were hymns. My family attended Gum Springs Pentecostal-Holiness Church, Taylors, SC, when I was born in 1947. I remember Ms. Virginia White playing the organ while people sang hymns during my childhood.

  My Grandmother (“Ma”) Lillian Crain, who attended Gum Springs PHC, kept a guitar propped behind a kitchen door. She sang “Job’s God” and folk-country songs such as “Times Have Changed in Renfro Valley.” Renfro Valley was known around 1939 as “Kentucky’s Country Music Capital.”

  Dad (J.B.) and Uncle Fred Crain played string music under Ma’s chinaberry tree on summer Sunday afternoons. Hymns and country music blended: Dad on guitar; Uncle on fiddle.

 

  Preacher Merritt sometimes gave me a dime if I’d sing this song for him when I was five years old:

  “Well, I went down to the big camp-meeting ’twas the most for to see the sight / But I got such a hearty greet-in’ that I went back ev-'ry night / They had an old-time gospel preacher from the good book of Psalms he read / But when he started preach-in ’bout the soul salvation, you oughta heard the things he said / You oughta heard him, that old time preacher man / You oughta heard him, such-a preachin’ you never heard / Well, he preached about an hour on the Sermon on the Mount, and when he ended up he had the devil on the rout / You oughta heard him, that old-time preacher man!”

  Pastor Jimmy Thompson came to pastor Gum Springs PCH Church and later started a church band after Mr. Jack Shaw visited our congregation and played his trumpet; His late brother, Larry, played trombone. Jack gave some group lessons at the church. Uncle Fred bought a trombone, and Dad bought an old trumpet. I was maybe seven years old when Dad first brought his trumpet home from church band practice. I buzzed my lips into the mouthpiece and didn’t know any fingerings to press on the horn’s three valves, but I jiggled values, buzzed, and thought, “I can play this thing.”

   

  Pastor Jimmy left Gum Springs PCH Church and founded Faith Temple Church, Taylors, SC, when I was in fifth grade. A lot of people left Gum Springs to venture to Pastor Jimmy’s new church, maybe seven miles from Gum Springs. After fifth grade, I moved with my parents to Greer, though we still attended Faith Temple.

 

  In seventh grade, I learned to play Dad’s trumpet at Davenport Jr. High (where Ms. Sybil Humphries taught band) and joined Faith Temple’s church band. I thought I could sit right in and play, but I had not known that trumpet music at school was written a note higher than the hymnbook music. At church, when the piano played “C,” I had to play “D.” Gene Barnett played cornet (sort of like a trumpet), and he told me about the “transposing” of notes I’d have to do. The alto line wasn’t too hard in the songbook, so Gene played the soprano line and I played alto. Gene’s dad, Carl Barnett, played drums.

 

  Preceding my joining the church band, the group enjoyed the trumpet playing of David White. He played in the Blue Ridge High band. Dan Lynn played cornet with him. They’d play duets at church. Dan was short and David was tall. Pastor Jimmy Thompson called them “Mutt and Jeff,” after cartoon characters in the “funny papers” (that what we call the “comics,” back in the day).

   

  For the church’s offering time — “offertory” is what it’s called in high-class churches — the band would play a “special.” The song wasn’t all that special, as it would be a song out of our hymnbook, but the band made it sound special because of the song being played on instruments. Our hymnbooks were heavily influenced by Southern Gospel-style songs. The trombones liked to play “Let Us Have a Little Talk with Jesus” because the chorus featured the bass. Frank White and Don Hill went to Blue Ridge High School and played trombones in that school’s band.

 

  During the late 1950s, accordions were popular, and at one time, we had three accordions in our church band. Mr. Bruce Foster played electric guitar. He was later joined by the Rev. Lamar Breazeale. Band members came and went, but those are some of the ones I remember.

 

  One of the key figures during those late 1950s and early 1960s days was Mr. Leo Porter who played piano. He was a natural quartet-style player. People loved to hear him play, and he led the band. The church band played a rousing part in the early days of Faith Temple, founded in 1956.

 

  Over the years, blue-collar church music changed. The piano is still central, but brass instruments don’t figure as much, I think. Guitars and keyboards are in style, and that has changed the keys that songs are written in, except for old hymnbooks which haven’t changed much. Guitar players prefer to strum in different keys than brass instrument players are comfortable with. Folk music’s popularity brought guitars to the fore, and, of course, rock music has had great influence.

 

  The old church band at Faith Temple is mostly gone, now. The church is now smaller, as far as attendance, and a fine piano player, Mrs. Sandra Martin, plays for its services. A drum set sits near the piano. An unplayed bass guitar sits upright on a nearby stand. The singing is good and voices blend as Mrs. Ann Burrows leads with her pure voice.

  Some churches still have “bands,” but they may be patterned after “club bands” — keyboard, drums, and guitars. Other churches have orchestras, which are considered culturally above the old Faith Temple-type bands, which may have reflected Salvation Army-type brass bands.

  I miss the old days when we had a good church band at Faith Temple. Of course, I may remember that band from the late 1950s as grander than it was. Someone said, “Nostalgia is not what it used to be — and probably never was.” 

  My late Grandma Lillian Crain — I called her “Ma”— used to sing “Times have changed in Renfro Valley.” Well, Ma, times have changed in a lot more places than Refro Valley.  

Mrs. Nell Thompson Adams Montgomery — Funeral, April 24, 2024

Mrs. Nell was my first grade teacher in 1953. I spoke at her funeral in 2024.

“Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of his saints” (Psalm 115:16). “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord … that they may rest from their labors, and their works do follow them” (Rev. 14:13).

Jul 29, 2014, Mrs. Nell wrote to me:

Dear Steve: I enjoyed reading about the Aug Fowler family. I remember most of them, especially your dear mother. …  When I die, maybe you can speak for me... Love, Mrs. Nell

   

I wrote back: "Thanks, Mrs. Nell. If I am in good health and don't 'go' before you do, I'd be glad to say a few words for you."

The Thompson youngsters grew up on their parent’s dairy farm, across from Double Springs Baptist Church. Their parents Lawrence and Esther Rosella Wood Thompson raised five children (listed in birth order): Jimmy, Nell, Betty, Tommy and Judy.

I express sympathy to all of the family today, especially Mrs. Nell’s children: Hope Barbare and husband Jimmy and Charlotte McClimon and husband Tim, as well as Trent, Brian, Lindsey, Blake, and Timothy and their mates and families. 

 Mrs. Nell’s mother, died in her sleep at her home at 101 years of age in 2003. Pastor James H. “Jimmy” Thompson preached her funeral at Faith Temple, the church he helped found.  

At Mrs. Esther Thompson’s funeral, Hope Barbare, then 44 and a teacher, read Proverbs 31:10: “Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.” “My grandmother found the good in everybody,” Hope said. 

I think Mrs. Nell was like that, too. 

Mrs. Nell was there when Pastor Jimmy announced at the age of 15, sitting at his family’s Sunday dinner table, that he was “called to be a preacher.” 

His father told him that afternoon, “I had rather you be a preacher of the Gospel than be president of the United States.”

Mrs. Nell Adams served as my first-grade school teacher. I worked seven years, part-time, for Pastor Jimmy while I was in Greer High and at Bob Jones University, studying art education. I have kept in touch with Mrs. Nell a little through the years. I want to share with you some excerpts from letters Mrs. Nell wrote to me in recent years.

From a letter Mrs. Nell sent to Carol, on May 16, 2008:

Dear Carol, Thank you for the book of school jokes. Many funny things do happen at school. 
  I have laughed about a little first grader in Clinton. It was during Halloween time. I asked, "Can anyone make a sentence with ‘is’?." Brian said, "I is a pumpkin." 
  The Bible says laughter doeth good like a medicine.

2009 03 01 Ms. Nell wrote:

Dear Steve, I go to visit Jimmy [Pastor James H. Thompson] four evenings each week. I make notes from my Bible reading and share Scriptures with him. He enjoys them, and he is always so kind. I think his presence there is good. One nurse said that she could see God's love in him.

 

In 2009, Hope and Charlotte asked me to write a “Happy Eightieth Birthday” note to their mother. Here are excerpts from what I wrote:

Congratulations, Ms. Nell, on your eightieth birthday (2009)!   

I remember you first as Miss Nell Thompson, my first-grade teacher at Mountain View Elementary School in upper Greenville County, S.C.  

I was six years old and entered your classroom for my first public school experience in 1953. You must have been then 24 years old. 

You attended the church my family attended, Gum Springs Pentecostal Holiness Church. Pastor James H. Thompson, your older brother, ministered there. You appeared to me to be a quiet, gentle, smiling, holy lady. 

You taught us “See Jane run” and “See Spot go.” When we finished our first reading books, you gave them to us to take home, and when the bus let me off, I raced to my mother who was hanging laundry in our backyard. I read the whole book to her as she stood at the clothesline. 

You were a young, pretty teacher and controlled our class with dignity. When the noise level rose, you told us, “I’m going to have to get firm.” We shaped up, then. 

Our classroom was on the first floor in the center of the schoolhouse, which housed 12 grades. Our room stood next to a large coal bin used for radiator heat. To reach the boys’ restroom, we walked past the coal bin on a sidewalk.  

You were patient and wise. We lined up each day at our door to have a blessing before lunch. I recall a girl one day said, “____ (So-and-So) didn’t have her eyes closed during the prayer.” I thought that girl should be paddled, but you said to the tattler, “How did you know?” 

Whoa! I saw the light! You demonstrated the “wisdom of Solomon” that day. 

A friend and I got into a playground fight because we were “playing wrestling.” Someone hurried to get you, and you made us sit in the classroom. I thought you were going to paddle us — but you didn’t. 

You have been a constant encouragement over the years. You are a rare and precious lady, and I thank God for you and your family. 

Happy birthday, Ms. Nell! 

“I have taught thee in the way of wisdom; I have led thee in right paths” (Proverbs 4:11).        

Mrs. Nell wrote, 2012 07 09 

Dear Steve, I appreciate the e-mails and pictures you send, especially the one of Troy Burrell and Mack [McCrary]. As you know, Mack worked on our farm for many years.  

   Yesterday, July 8, was Jimmy's birthday. He would have been 84 years old. I still miss him.

  “One of my earliest memories was sitting with him (Jimmy) at Double Springs Church. I think we were five or six years old. He went up to put his birthday offering in, and I went with him. We used to pick cotton and sing ‘Jesus Saves.’ Neither Jimmy nor I were blessed with a talent to sing; we just made a joyful sound, and it echoed in the valley.”  

    Ms. Nell said she and “Jimmy” rode together when both were Furman University day students. “Before he married Joanne, I used to go with him through the countryside to pick up children for Sunday school when he pastored Gum Springs (church),” Adams says. “We filled his car full of children (no seatbelts then). This was Jimmy’s little bus.” 

I wrote in 2017 — “Happy Birthday to, not one, but TWO beautiful ladies! Nell Adams Montgomery today September 21 and Charlotte Adams McClimon tomorrow September 22.

In 2024, I wrote to Mrs. Nell. 

At Faith Temple, there is a Sunday School class named “The Mary Bearden Class.” I remember Mrs. Bearden. What do you remember about Ms. Bearden.

  Mrs. Nell said, “Ms. Bearden lived in a two-story house on Hwy. 2 90. When there were plans to build Faith Temple, seven pieces of land were offered. Our dad went to see Ms. Bearden and asked her about giving her land. She said, ‘Yes, she would.’ We were happy.

  “While Ms. Bearden sat with Momma and me at Faith Temple and Hope, my daughter was a baby, Ms. Bearden said, ‘Well, you didn’t have to get such a pretty one.”

————————————

Years ago, Mrs. Nell wrote and delivered a message called 

A LIFE OF VICTORY

 “Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord” (1 Corinthians 15:58). 

 In her message on A LIFE OF VICTORY, Mrs. Nell talked about sin, Satan, worry, and loneliness.

 When I was ten years old, I gave my heart to  Jesus in a revival meeting at the Double Springs Baptist Church, just across the road from our house. We grew up in that church. 

  The first thing in living a life of victory is coming to know Jesus as Savior and the forgiveness of sin. 

  “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature. Old things have passed away and behold all things have become new.”

The second thing is victory over Satan.    

   Romans 8:6: “For to be carnally minded is death; but to be spiritually minded is life and peace.”

  Life is a battle between light and darkness. Satan uses Discouragement.

  When I was young, I thought I could never excel in anything. I was afraid of lightning, thunder, storms, tornadoes. I was afraid of people, afraid of my own voice. 

   After Richard, my first husband died, there was a Christian lady, we will call her “Mae.” She lived along in an apartment and worked at Garden Ridge. After he died, my house was too empty and lonely. Mae got off from work at 9:30 and came right by my street, going home. I said, “Why don’t you stay with me for a while. I have an extra bedroom.” 

  So she did. She was writing a book of poems, and I helped her with this.

  Sometimes she would say to me, “I’m just a nobody.” 

  I said, “Oh, no. You are a child of God and you are somebody.” 

Another weapon Satan uses us unforgiveness. Usually, it’s people who’ve been hurt who hurt others. 

  Another way to grow stronger is to receive the Baptism of the Holy Spirit.

  While attending the church near our house, my dad heard about Pentecost — his heart was open to it, and he wanted us to have the experience. He would tell us, and we didn’t know what he was talking about. He took us to revival meetings and to Holmes Camp Meeting at Holmes Bible College. They had a big tent on campus, always in May. 

  When we went to camp meeting, I saw people praying around the altar. I couldn’t get away from the joy on their faces and the freedom of worship. I know this was what I wanted. We were still in the church near our home.

  After Jimmy announced he was going to be a preacher, we started seeking the Baptism. 

  There on the farm, we felt so close to God. It was about 75 acres of land and a beautiful meadow with a little stream, and a large rock where we could sit and see the beauty. It was a place for one to go to pray for the Baptism. I spent many hours there. Prayer is not only talking to God. God also talks to you.

   God reminded me of an incident that happened when I was about eight years old. 

  We had a neighborhood school, and walking home from school, we went into a store with boxes of candy sitting around (about two cents each, I think). The children picked up pieces of candy, and I did too. 

  We left, and no one said anything, but I thought, “I have no money to pay.”

  When I got home, I thought, “I will tell my mother because I can tell her anything.” 

  The only thing she said was, “If you wanted candy that bad, I could have made you some.” She made wonderful chocolate fudge.

  God wanted me to pay for the candy, but the store had been moved, and the man was gone, too. But I knew my neighbor was his sister-in-law. I didn’t want to tell her, but I did. The store owner had moved to California, so I got his address and  sent him a letter and some money. He wrote me back a nice letter. After that, I did receive the Baptism. God wanted to know if I would obey Him.

 If you spend time with Him, He will direct your steps. 

 VICTORY OVER WORRY is a hard one because I am prone to worry. But Jesus said, “I am with you always.” Cast all your cares upon Him. 

  My mother didn’t worry. When I lived in Clinton, S.C., she would write me a letter every week. 

  “Don’t worry about anything,” she said. 

  I think I am doing better now, but sometimes Bill says, “If you are worrying, you are not trusting.” 

  Cast all your care upon Him, for He cares about you.”

  VICTORY OVER LONELINESS is hard, too.

  I taught first grade at Mountain View Elementary School for four years after graduating from Furman University while still living at home. 

  I was 25 years old, and it was time to start a a life somewhere else. I decided to apply for a job in Columbia, SC. My sister Betty was in training at the Baptist Hospital. 

   I got the job, and Betty helped me find a room on Marion Street with elderly Mrs. Eleazar. 

  Betty graduated and said, “I’m going back home to work at General Hospital.” 

  I didn’t know anyone in Columbia, and I was very lonely for a year. I did find a church that helped. God guides our steps. 

  The second year, I met a lady named Althea Burroughs who had a lovely home in Columbia. She had two little children and her husband traveled as an evangelist for the Church of God. She said, “Come and live with us.” And so I did. 

  Althea was lots of fun. We went shopping together. She said, “I’m going to find you a husband.”

  I did not know that Richard taught at Presbyterian College. I did not know that his mother lived in Columbia, SC, and that he came home every weekend to teach Sunday school at First Assembly. She introduced us, and later, we were married. We had 45 years together. God has given me two good husbands. 

 CONCLUSION: 

Matthew 28: “I will never leave thee. I am with thee always, even till the end of the world.” 

Later in life, Mrs. Nell was a tutor for Mr. Wendell Williams  

Wendell was a singer and retired machinist. He was next to the oldest boy in a family of nine children. His father was a pastor; his mother a housewife. They lived in Ohio. Wendell was singing with a trio at age 13. He became a choir director at age 17 and did it for 25 years at Victory Center Church of God, Marion, Ohio. 

   While singing in Spartanburg, SC, he met a lady named Sandra. He dated her for a year and a half. They married in 2004 and live in Greer.

  At age 51, Wendell recalls his trip to Greer Learning Center to pursue his GED. He, now 70 years old, had quit high school in eleventh grade in Marion, Ohio. He was a driver for PP&G (Pittsburgh Paint and Glass). The second day at the center, they said they’d get him a tutor. They got Mrs. Nell, whom he had never met. 

  She would meet him at the center two days per week to tutor him. After about two weeks, Mrs. Nell asked Wendell, “Do you believe in God?”

  “Oh, yes!” he said. “I’m a born-again Christian. 

  She started crying. 

  She invited him to meet at her home for two-hour sessions, Monday through Friday, for four and one-half years. 

 “She’d make me read a book and do a book report,” he said.

  Each time, she’d ask for a hymn, and he’d sing it. 

  On Thursdays, they cut short the tutoring, and Wendell would drive Mrs. Nell’s car to WGGS to pick up Pastor Jimmy. They would motor over to the S&S Cafeteria.

  Mrs. Nell went with Wendell to get his GED. He tested for two hours in Greenville and scored in the top five percent of his state of SC. 

  In 2008, at First Baptist in Greenville, Wendell graduated in cap and gown and heard “Pomp and Circumstance” played. Mrs. Nell cried. He was the last adult student Mrs. Nell tutored.

  “She changed my life,” Wendell says.

Grief is the price of Love, someone said. 

Grief-Share groups are often good. 

from A letter to a Friend on the Death of His Mother

Phillips Brooks wrote, “May I try to tell you again where your only comfort lies? It is not in forgetting the happy past. People bring us well-meant but miserable consolation when they tell what time will do to help our grief. We do not want to lose our grief, because our grief is bound up with our love and we could not cease to mourn without being robbed of our affections.

Family, I am sorry for your loss. Mrs. Nell fought a good fight and kept the faith. She left a great example for you, for me, and all of us. She wants you to follow the Lord and meet her in heaven. She is free from her earthly body and is with the Lord. 

The family that is left suffers the loss. She would want you to bind together, to make an effort to gather together and love one another.  Too many families splinter after the matriarch has gone to be with the Lord. 

Bind us together, Lord, bind us together with cords that cannot be broken. Bind us together, Lord, bind us together, Lord, bind us together with Love.  …….. “Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of his saints” (Psalm 115:16).