Things My Great Granduncle Said - John Louis Pfingston (1902 - 1900)

 John Heinrich Pfingston Family Line

John Louis Pfingston (1902-1990) Things my Great Granduncle Said

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 Transcribed by Carolyn Ann Howard
Click on photos to enlarge

My friend and I just got back from the Henderson County Library after having listened to an in-depth interview with my grand grand uncle, John Louis Pfingston. John Pfingston lived in Henderson County, Kentucky, close to the ghost town of Scuffletown, which was located on the Ohio River directly across from the Newburgh, Indiana Lock and Dam.

Where Scuffletown Was
Google Maps
Proper Attribution Given

 Scuffletown quickly became a ghost town in 1937 after record flooding. Here is what John Pfingston had to say about that.

In 1913 we had water that got 48 [feet] and some 10ths, the biggest water we ever had, and we never thought we'd have something like that anymore. [The year] 1937 started and people knew [the water from the Ohio River] wouldn’t get higher than it did in 1913. They blocked [their] furniture up above the 1913 water [mark]. [The river] kept rising and kept raining.  And raining upstream. It rained 1 to 4 inches up there practically everyday. When it crested, it crested 54 [feet] something. That was 6 feet higher than 1913. Didn’t nobody ever dream of getting water that big...

...We started out with these boats. First we got the people out of the river bottoms. We took them to Newburgh, Spottsville or wherever they wanted to go. They wanted us to get their furniture, but we didn’t have time to fool with their furniture. We were going to get people and then we were going to get livestock. We got all the people out and got them on high ground, and then we started to get livestock. We got everything about out of Scuffletown bottoms and took them to Newburgh or Spottsville. I had one boat I didn’t see for 2-3 weeks and when I did, it was tore all to pieces. Tom, Dick, and Harry ran it. Even the motor was burned out; they didn’t put any oil in it

As far as rescuing the cattle:

Some of them had been in that cold water so long they couldn’t walk. They were numb. They liked to froze to death. A lot we had to drag onto the boat. We had some feed on there, some corn and hay. They would lay there and eat and by the time we’d get to Spottsville, Newburgh, Henderson, a lot of them were able to stand up and able to walk. 

On the future of our country:

I said now you boys and girls grow up and be good men and women, that's what the whole world needs. I said, you’re important. You’re going to be running our country before long. We have older people who are going to have to step down. You might be governor or president of the United States. The world is starving for is good men and good women.

About growing up on the farm:

It was a lot of hard work. Nothing easy about it. All hard work. We had to pump water for all the stock. We finally got a windmill at home, and that solved the problem pretty well. It was 60 feet tall. I didn’t mind the climb back then when I was a kid. Didn’t take hardly any wind to turn it, and when it turned, it would pump water. I'd go up every 2 weeks to oil it. Pretty soon our neighbors got windmills, and they’d give me $1 to oil their windmills.

On the World Wars:

World War One. There was four of us boys. And it just happened that we were in the age group that none of us had to go to World War One or Two. We didn’t do anything to keep from going, we were just out of the age. Of course somebody had to go. I get to thinking about these wars. We whooped Germany twice. Whooped Japan. Japan now is taking over.

On Russia:

And I’m scared to death of Russia. I was over there in Russia 12 days; I’m scared of it. You can’t depend on them. Afraid something is going to happen to blow us off the map. And they’ll do it. They don’t believe in God. They don’t value life.  I will say one thing, they keep everything clean. There’s something good about them.

On the Great Depression of 1929:

Nobody had anything. There was no money. I don’t know where the money was at. You could canvas the whole county or go house to house, I doubt you would find $300. There just wasn’t any money.

On the Use of Chemicals in Farming

Farming has changed. Used to chop weeds over there with a hoe and now they use a chemical... But this chemical that farmers are using, I’m afraid sooner of later its going to backfire. They are absolutely getting this soil full of it, and when it rains, part of it goes into the river. I’m afraid they’re going to have troubles.

Advice to Youth

I done said it. I want to tell them to stay away from this dope. This marijuana and alcohol. Absolutely no good. It’ll ruin your life. There’s people in penitentiary right now, dope addicts, wish they never saw the stuff.

The Greatest Thing to Ever Happen 

The greatest thing that happened to the rural area is getting electricity. That got rid of a lot of the hard work. Before that, they didn’t have nothing. No refrigerator, radio, TV, [or] bathroom, and that’s why people are living longer today. Things are a lot cleaner than they used to be.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

My Parent's Lifelong Love of Megachurch Pastors

 Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

My Parent's Lifelong Love of Megachurch Pastors
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by Carolyn Ann Howard

Most people don't believe me when I tell them we had cable television growing up in Monticello, Indiana, in the 1960s and 70s. I'm not sure when it was installed, but we had a cable box outside right there by the mailbox. We got about 13 channels. Channel 3 was the Kaiser Broadcasting System out of Chicago. Channel 4 was out of Indianapolis, and I enjoyed watching Cowboy Bob everyday around noon. Channel 9 was also out of Chicago and, beginning at 6:00 pm, ran their Comedy Tonight, which featured  The Honeymooners, which I did not like, I Love Lucy, which I did not like, Green Acres, which I adored, and that timeless classic The Dick Van Dyke Show.

My parents didn't watch much TV at that time in their lives, so the TV was pretty much mine. There was a time, however, when my mother did have the TV on, and that was Sunday mornings while we got ready for church. Every Sunday morning, Rex Humbard preached to us from his megachurch in Akron, Ohio, arguably one of the first megas in the United States. I doubt that I paid much attention to it. I just knew it was on. It was just part of the normal. Click on photos to enlarge

Rex Humbard
Public Domain via Wikipedia

My dad, of course, was not at home while Rex Humbard was preaching to us from his Cathedral of Tomorrow. I don't know what time Dad walked over to the church for Sunday morning, but I'm sure it was very early. He was a pastor through-and-through and devoted most of his waking hours to the church.

My father was more in awe of Billy Graham and all those people he evangelized back in the day. My father thought evangelism was the best way to minister - that is, bringing people into the church by telling them about Christ. (My father's words.) And once a part of the church, Dad would put them to work as Sunday school teachers, scripture readers, prayer givers, cooks for potlucks, etc. Our church in Monticello was BUSY and a lot of people wanted to be a part of that success.

Dad held Billy Graham and his sidekick, George Beverly Shea, on very high pedestals. Mom and I watched Billy Graham's Crusades when I was growing up, and it was confusing. I didn't like all the chaos of those thousands of people going forward to pray at Billy Graham's alter. For a Baptist, public confession is an important part of the doctrine. That is probably why I've been baptized three times, to make sure the public confession did the trick given all the "backsliding" I've done throughout my life. Thankfully when I converted to Lutheranism, no re-baptism was required.

Vincent Norman Peale, although not a televangelist, was another man my dad held up on a pedestal. Peale's book, The Power of Positive Thinking, became my father's mantra. I strove to take that mantra myself, but failed. My outlook on life is great now, but as a child... well, let's just say my childhood was pretty rough.

The megachurch pastor who may have planted that early seed in my father's head that he should become a mega pastor might have been Robert Schuller in Los Angeles. Dad marveled on many occasions how Schuller started his Garden Grove Community Church using a drive-in movie theater. Dad was so in awe of this.

Robert Schuller
Creative Commons via Wikipedia

Garden Grove Community Church, 1961
Robert J. Boser, Creative Commons, via Wikipedia

Mom as well was in awe of Robert Schuller, sending him monetary gifts on a regular basis. As I grew to adulthood, she began to share with me how much Robert Schuller's teachings meant to her and how he helped her with her growing depression. As a gift, the Schuller organization once sent her a clock as a thank you for her donations. The clock became one of her prized possessions. Talking with my daughter, the story brought a glimmer to her eye. She remembered the bird clock well and agreed that it had been indeed a prized possession of her grandmother.

Mom's bird clock
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

Dad always said that it was a roommate of his that planted the megachurch idea in his head. He had attended a conference, and this man loaned him a book on how to start a megachurch. This was when I was 16, and my father's tone noticeably changed. He kept telling me about a recurring dream he was having about a huge barn filled with an extraordinary amount of tools. He just kept telling this to me. He said the barn was a huge church and the tools inside were all the people who attended that church.

I look back now and realize that this was his way of pleading with me to be okay with moving to Evansville, Indiana, as a high-schooler. A high-schooler, by the way, who was getting ready to be the accompanist of the coveted singing group The Golden Throats, a goal I had been working for my whole life, really. My tenure would be the last two years of my high school career, and then I had planned to enroll at The University of Evansville as a piano performance major. Our move to Evansville in 1977 would crush all of that, nor would Dad get his megachurch.

We moved to Evansville, Indiana, when I was 17, and I was unable to pivot. Dad was intent on building his megachurch, no matter what, using the now defunct East Side Baptist Church as his foundation. Well, that idea didn't go over very well with his new parishioners. In the meantime, the parishioners we had left behind in Monticello were devastated. I think they're doing okay now, 45 years later, but they did lose their prestigious Day Care Center because of our move.

Dad also floundered after our move. His mega church was not to be, and he felt so defeated. With the permission of the American Baptist Convention, he decided to start a new church in Newburgh, Indiana. This church was successful, definitely no mega, but successful. Then, something weird happened. He turned 65 and retired. I don't believe this was his choice, though. I think my mom was behind this. I don't know what her motivation was, but she so needed to live up to the status quo. Dad lived to make Mom happy, so he retired. After that, I watched him sink into a terrible depression as he watched in dread as his Newburgh church also became defunct.

I was working at a Methodist Church myself at this time, and so I went to the pastor of that church and asked if there was anything he could do to help Dad get back into the ministry. This pastor went to the District Superintendent of our area, and an appointment was set up for my dad to meet with him. The Methodists gave Dad a teeny church outside of Mount Vernon, Indiana. It was located on a little country road in the middle of nowhere! But Dad was so happy to be back in the ministry.

He didn't turn this church into a mega, either, but he did save them from becoming defunct. He used everything he had learned in his ministry to save this church and to bring new people in. Black's Chapel, as they were then called, now have a very nice property on one of the main roads in Mt. Vernon, closer to town, and they are flourishing. A nice group of them came to Dad's funeral, gratefully, and they told me that yes, Dad saved their church. I worked there the last three years of my Dad's ministry in Mt. Vernon, and I can say that actually, they saved Dad.

Mt. Vernon Community Church (Black's Chapel)
Google Maps
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In his final years, Dad was enveloped in regret and grief for leaving Monticello; a lot of it probably from his dementia. He also realized how much he interrupted the plans that I had for myself. I tried to let him off the hook, because I'm very happy and very successful. But it was not to be.

The most important thing to Dad, however, more than anything else, including his own family, was reaching people for Christ, as he would always say. He was victorious in that endeavor.

In loving memory of my parents, Rev. William "Lester" and Mary Howard.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC