Growing Up with a Preacher Man
Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)
Building the Church Building
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by Carolyn Ann Howard
When we lived in Monticello, I took a lot of pictures. When I first got married, I entrusted those photographs to my parents, who had a much bigger space than I had in my tiny apartment. My pictures ended up in a box with a bunch of other pictures kept in my mother's bottom dresser drawer. I didn't take the pictures to my home when I bought a house, because I thought they were safe in that bottom drawer. They weren't. They're gone now. All gone. I have no idea where they are, and it is a regret. Because one, they were my pictures but two, I should have retrieved them years ago, and I just didn't do it. And now I'm trying to blog about my father's life and have very few pictures to jog my memory.
We moved to Monticello in 1963 and the cornerstone of the church states it was built in 1966, so my father wasted no time in his mission. The church hired an architect to design the church, but it was built largely from sweat equity from the members and by my father. It was a beautiful space, and we were very proud of it, rightly so. The only thing is that they didn't put in air conditioning, because in 1966, it wasn't as hot as it is now. The church had a "whole house" fan and we also had one in our house, next door to the church. During the summer, we would open all the windows and let the whole-house fan run, and it was just fine.
As an aside, it was pretty dark back there, living off the road like we did. So dad put up a dusk-to-dawn light that was visible from the piano room window. That light gave me such comfort. Click on photos to enlarge
The church building itself was beautiful red brick with stained glass windows. The wooden arches in the sanctuary were gorgeous, and the fellowship hall was fitted with portable wall dividers so that it could be converted into Sunday school classrooms. A switch on the wall rang a bell that let everyone know when Sunday school was over. Howard Shine was the ringer of that bell every Sunday without fail. The only thing were those ball lights in the sanctuary. I had nightmares over those things!
The Fellowship Hall with its dividers |
I felt so at home in that building. Not only was my house my home, but the church building was an extension of that home. I remember playing a new Partridge Family album nonstop in the foyer one winter day, when school was out for Christmas. The information booklets that most churches keep for their parishioners to buy/borrow was also on a table inside that foyer. "Good News for Modern Man" and "My Heart, Christ's Home," were two examples.
My father valued privacy/modesty almost above all else, and so the restrooms had a barrier in the hallway to shield their entrance. This was his invention. He had the restrooms put in as far away from the sanctuary as possible, and the nursery was also across from these restrooms. Everything about that building was perfect and perfectly placed. Even though small, we had plenty of room for every activity.
The building always welcomed me and was never judgmental, even when my weight started to creep up, and I started to get bullied at school. I was bullied at the school, but not at the church. As a child, I didn't understand the link between weight and food, and our house was filled with chocolate cereal, donuts, chips, and other unhealthy foods. Additionally, I needed my teeth fixed, which never happened, and I still have trouble pronouncing "s" (even though I had my two front teeth fixed after my first marriage, but they could use a bit more help.) I had to take remedial speech in grade school when what I really needed was just my teeth fixed.
Under my father's ministry and guidance, that building became a home for many of us, though, not just me. And it was BUSY. Many activities went on inside and outside that church building, and we all felt like a family, because we were!
My father certainly had a win with this church. In his later life, he wished he would have stayed in Monticello and retired from there. This would have been good for my mom as well. But we had a wonderful 14 years here and I'll take it!
Pictures are from the Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection.
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