I was in a writing mood. If you chose to read it, that's on you.
It was mid-August 1960, 10:30 at night, and I stood on the sandy bank at the west end of the dam for Johnnie B. Harper's farm pond. I was a huge 14 year old boy in ragged jeans rolled up to the knees. I was staring down at the two feet wide sliver of dark water between the two half-flooded homemade wooden fishing scows pulled up on the bank, thinking of the many times I had fished there and had seen one or more Water Moccasins come slithering from under those boats when they were moved. I knew I had to wade in between them, barefooted and bare legged.
My mother had finally convinced me that it was time, so at the country church revival in the old Macedonia Christian Church building which had never seen a trace of air conditioning beyond the free wooden handled cardboard fans provided by the local funeral home whose ad was printed on the back, I went forward and confessed. She later said that it was undoubtedly the worst sermon she had ever heard, but my mind was already made up anyway. After the service the immediate need was to get me baptized, so off we went about 150 yards down the road to the pond. The only wadable access was at that spot, between those two old boats.
We had a new preacher, who was a young, single Yankee who may or may not have ever even seen a Water Moccasin, but he certainly didn't hesitate to peel off his shoes and socks and walk in, and now it was my turn. Hey, I had turned everything else over to the Lord, so I couldn't back off from this, especially with all my friends and neighbors looking on.
In I went. I didn't get snake bitten, a minor miracle in itself. The immersion was accomplished with some difficulty as I weighed a lot more than the preacher did. The small group sang "Now I Belong to Jesus", which even to this day seems to be the mandatory hymn for these occasions in rural southern churches.
That was 59 years ago. In the years since I have encountered a lot of figuratively "snake" filled situations, been bitten quite a few times, but with the Lord's help, never fatally.
It was mid-August 1960, 10:30 at night, and I stood on the sandy bank at the west end of the dam for Johnnie B. Harper's farm pond. I was a huge 14 year old boy in ragged jeans rolled up to the knees. I was staring down at the two feet wide sliver of dark water between the two half-flooded homemade wooden fishing scows pulled up on the bank, thinking of the many times I had fished there and had seen one or more Water Moccasins come slithering from under those boats when they were moved. I knew I had to wade in between them, barefooted and bare legged.
My mother had finally convinced me that it was time, so at the country church revival in the old Macedonia Christian Church building which had never seen a trace of air conditioning beyond the free wooden handled cardboard fans provided by the local funeral home whose ad was printed on the back, I went forward and confessed. She later said that it was undoubtedly the worst sermon she had ever heard, but my mind was already made up anyway. After the service the immediate need was to get me baptized, so off we went about 150 yards down the road to the pond. The only wadable access was at that spot, between those two old boats.
We had a new preacher, who was a young, single Yankee who may or may not have ever even seen a Water Moccasin, but he certainly didn't hesitate to peel off his shoes and socks and walk in, and now it was my turn. Hey, I had turned everything else over to the Lord, so I couldn't back off from this, especially with all my friends and neighbors looking on.
In I went. I didn't get snake bitten, a minor miracle in itself. The immersion was accomplished with some difficulty as I weighed a lot more than the preacher did. The small group sang "Now I Belong to Jesus", which even to this day seems to be the mandatory hymn for these occasions in rural southern churches.
That was 59 years ago. In the years since I have encountered a lot of figuratively "snake" filled situations, been bitten quite a few times, but with the Lord's help, never fatally.
