Saturday, February 10, 2018

WEAVING A PATH by Mac Eubanks

"All you need is the plan, the road map, and the courage to press on to your destination."  
Earl Nightingale

NOVEMBER 22, 1963

                That first year at Georgia Tech, starting in the Fall of 1962, had come and gone. I had started to school again in September of 1963 but had to come home to Armuchee early for financial reasons. Since I’d worked at Pepperell in Lindale the Summer of ’62, the winter of ’62/’63 and the Summer of ’63, I went back to Pepperell to see if they’d let me start to work early (I would have returned at the Tech school quarter’s end before Christmas anyway). Instead of going to the Personnel Office, that's what they called HR/Human Relations back in the day, I went straight to my old boss, Coolidge Green. Telling Mr. Green my story and my needs, I guess he took pity on me and said they’d take me back, but he jumped all over me for coming straight to him without going through the Personnel Office first.  He said he’d handle things with Personnel and told me to report for work the next day. This was a Monday, therefore Tuesday would be my first day back on the job.

                I gave both Otho Hawkins and Albert Duke phone calls about getting daily rides with them. Since my job was going to be on day shift, and since I knew Mr. Hawkins and Mr. Duke well and had ridden with them for a year, everything worked out well in that respect since I had no car. All I had to do was be ready each day  at 6:00 A.M. They were always prompt and I don’t remember ever making them wait the three years I rode with them to and from Pepperell. They usually alternated weeks in their driving. Mr. Hawkins worked in the Loom Repair Parts Room and Mr. Duke worked in the Dye House; both had worked at Pepperell for some time and taught me a lot about the workings of the mill. And since my Daddy had lived in Lindale, he knew a lot of the people I would work with during my tenure there.

                The reason I was working at Pepperell (and also the reason for going to Georgia Tech) went back to the year before, my senior year at Armuchee High School. In the late winter of ’62, I’d been accepted to attend Georgia Tech. I had no idea what I wanted to study or do in life, and I also had no money and little hope of getting any by Fall. There I was with a letter of acceptance to Georgia Tech, which many kids in that day would have given their right arm for, and my greatest fear was that I wouldn’t be able to go. Shortly after being accepted, the Floyd County School System held a sort of school seniors’ jobs and college day. The sessions I attended were at West Rome High School. One of the day’s sessions was held by Mr. Smith, who was Plant Manager at Pepperell in those days.  His talk was all about the textile industry and the Lindale Plant.  I Listened attentively and after the session I waited for the other kids to leave the room so I could speak with him. I told him my story about the Georgia Tech acceptance, and having no money, and no job and no prospects, and then I came out and asked if there might be a way he could help me out of my dilemma. Mr. Smith said he’d think about it and talk with Mr. Lindsey, my school principal and neighbor who happened to be there that day.
               Back at school, Mr. Lindsey advised me to ask three people to write letters of recommendation and then send them to Mr. Smith, endorsing me for both a job at Pepperell and a Scholarship offered by the Georgia Textile Manufacturers Association. I immediately asked Mr. Lindsey if he’d write one since he’d known me all my life and he said, 'sure.' I saw Mr. Tom Harris, Armuchee Math Teacher, after school and asked him if he’d write one and he agreed also. At church Prayer Meeting that night at New Armuchee Baptist Church, I told our Pastor, Rev. E. S. Morris, my story and asked him if he’d write a letter too. He also agreed.

                All this occurred on a Wednesday. The following Monday, Mr. Lindsey called me into his office to tell me Mr. Smith had reviewed all my letters and had told him I would be allowed to work at Pepperell (after I graduated) for the summer, and this would give me some money for school at Tech in the Fall. And if that weren’t great enough, he said Mr. Smith told him I would be awarded the scholarship as well. Tech had accepted me into their co-operative program whereby a student could go to school for a quarter and work alternate quarters to get hands-on experience in his chosen field.  If I kept my nose clean, the job at Pepperell would also be there for me after each quarter when I returned from school. Between what I’d make in the summer at Pepperell and what I’d get in the Scholarship, I’d have enough to go to school. It’s hard to imagine how happy a seventeen year old kid could be with such developments over just a few days! 

                It was a number of years later when I really thought about how the stars had lined up for me that Winter/Spring of 1962. Sure, I’d had to study hard in school and do well in my courses. I’d had to apply to Georgia Tech when I didn’t know if I’d even have a prayer. I’d had to take the SAT tests.  I’d had to agree to go to the Senior Day sessions. I'd had to gather the gumption and initiative to approach Mr. Smith that day about a job and a scholarship. And thank goodness I’d known my principal, my teacher, and my pastor well enough to ask them to write letters for me. I couldn’t help but think, “I was such a kid back then. What did I know about all this stuff that was swirling around me then?" But I guess in looking back on that time, I didn’t know any better than to just plow ahead, do something and hope for the best. Not a bad lesson to learn at a young age.

                Now, what does all this have to do with November 22, 1963, you may ask? I will have to invite you to watch for the next installment for that answer.




Tuesday, January 30, 2018


A bit of old time advice written by Floyd County native, Ray Ellington.

"In 1919, it was discovered that by placing an onion (or two) in a bowl in your house that it helped ward off sickness! Our country had been exposed to the deadly "Black Plague" in those days and winter sicknesses that are common today. Most houses of that era were only two rooms unlike today. By placing a couple of onions in a bowl it seemed to keep the colds and flu away. If a person was sick to the bed, they would peel the onion and cut the top and bottom off and place in a jar or bowl next to the bed. The onion would turn black and the symptoms would disappear.  It is also said if you put a slice of onion on the bottom of your feet at night it will draw out the sickness from your body. Seems this went on for many years until we became educated and stopped believing.

All I'm saying is that with the flu epidemic going around, why not give it a try? It will only cost you a few onions and they are cheap enough.

P.S. Don't forget to throw the ones you use away; they just might have absorbed that virus!

This picture was taken in my house; tradition lives on here, and I haven't gotten sick either. Prayer also helps!"

Ray Ellington


I personally have never tried using an onion for a cold, but I have used it for bee stings and guess what, it works! I'm not saying give up modern health practices and common sense, but why not add some of the old-time remedies to your life? It worked for grandma!

If you have an old time remedy, recipe, anecdote or tradition you would like to share, please let us hear from you. I can be reached through this blog or via Facebook.


Saturday, August 20, 2016


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'Armuchee- A Journey of Generations' is a gathering place for the descendants of families who have lived in Armuchee, Georgia.

We share history, anecdotes, photos and genealogical research.

It's a place of memory, of family and of home...


 This is the final installment of memories presented by the host and author of Facebook's FRIENDS OF ARMUCHEE, Mac Eubanks.

Conclusion to my "Memories  of  Armuchee,  1950 - 1962"

The part of Armuchee which was south of the Farmers Bridge over Armuchee Creek was a well - populated area between 1950 and 1962. When you left Armuchee "proper" and crossed the bridge, there  was (and still is) the old Farmers Cemetery on your right (which would later become the New Armuchee   Baptist Church Cemetery).

The "Farmers Bridge" name for the bridge referred to the family who lived in the old house just south  of the bridge on the left-- this would have been back in the 1800's, as I learned it as a child. This family  must also have owned the hill across the road (Old U..S. Hwy 27), hence the name "Farmers" Cemetery.  Many years later, this land would be owned by the Burk family. In my day, I remember Alfred and Louise Burk and their daughters, Anita and Emily. Louise played the piano for the New Armuchee Baptist  Church for a number of years. They still owned the Cemetery up until the 1980's or '90's, I believe, when  they turned it over to the church.

After returning to Armuchee in 1997, from being gone about 35 years, my wife and I re-joined the  New Armuchee Baptist Church. I had the opportunity to serve as Chairman of the Cemetery Committee  for a number of years. In that capacity, I was able to learn a lot more about the cemetery than I'd ever known before.

L-R: #2 Roy Selman, #3 Willie Nelson, #4 Otis Lumsden, #5 Rev. E. Stanley Morris

The Farmers Bridge existed as far back as the Civil War (as a wooden covered  bridge). Frequent  and devastating floods of the creek caused it to have to be repaired or rebuilt a number of times before a more sturdy concrete structure was built around the 1920's. One of the bridge's claims to fame was a  battle that took place there during the Civil war. Rather than try to describe that battle, I'm going to  include an article from the Rome Convention and Visitor Bureau's website.

Farmers Bridge across Armuchee Creek
Farmers Bridge

Located eight miles north of Rome in the Armuchee community, Farmers Bridge was the only span across Armuchee Creek between Summerville and Rome.

On May 13, 1864,  Company G, Twelfth Alabama Cavalry (C.S.), was posted on the heights south of the bridge to provide warning of Federal forces advancing after the battle of Resaca. On the morning of May 15, Colonel Robert Minty’s Federal brigade, composed of three regiments and a detachment of artillery, arrived on the road just north of the bridge. An initial charge was repulsed by the dismounted troopers entrenched on the hillside, but Minty was able to pin the Confederates in place while sending a larger force both upstream and downstream at fords across the creek.

The thin Confederate line was outflanked and soon broke. Their commander, Captain William Lokey, was mortally wounded and ten of his command killed. The remainder of the company fell back to Big Dry Creek and participated in the fight at Howe’s Hill.

The ten Confederate soldiers were initially buried where they fell but shortly afterward their bodies were reinterred by a local family in their family cemetery on a hill overlooking Armuchee Creek where, through the years, their unmarked graves were gradually forgotten. In 1998 a group of researchers from N.B. Forrest Camp 469, Sons of Confederate Veterans, found their burial location and a substantial monument with plaques describing the action was dedicated in a ceremony featuring descendants of the soldiers buried here.

Monument to the Confederate dead of the Battle of Farmers Bridge

Graves of the ten Confederate soldiers who died at the Battle of Farmers Bridge

The current Farmers Bridge over Armuchee Creek

In my childhood years, the old FARMERS home was occupied by the Spurgeon Family. Their  children were Linda, Julia (who was in my AHS graduating class in 1962), and Bill. That old house is now gone and a new one built some years later; it is now occupied by Emily Burk Swanson, whose family owned the cemetery across the road.

I can't leave the Cemetery without at least a mention of its layout. There was a road around the Armuchee Creek side of the cemetery --it really had no name until many years later when Scenic Drive  was built and the road became an extension of Scenic Drive. Sometime over these past eight or ten years, the county put up a sign calling it the "Armuchee Creek Cemetery Road".  Scenic drive spanned from where the new U.S. Hwy 27 is, back to the old U.S.27 just south of Farmers Bridge. There  was also an old road around the back of the cemetery which entered the old U.S. 27 at the same spot as  Scenic Drive. Sometime in the late  '50's or early '60's, this Scenic drive was extended over the portion of  Lavender mountain beyond  the cemetery, around  to the Little Texas Valley Road northwest of the Old  Iron Bridge. By following this road over the mountain, and taking a left turn on an old dirt road, you could  hike all the way along the top of Lavender to the House of Dreams, Ms. Martha Berry's retreat atop the  mountain. These two roads, the road behind the Cemetery and the entire length of Scenic Drive over the  mountain (as well as a portion of the unpaved road to House of Dreams) served many a teenage dating couple as nighttime hideaways for many years. I daresay there aren't many Armuchee kids from the 50's,
60's or later who don't know what I'm talking about!

Old Iron Bridge over Armuchee Creek

 When you left that area around the cemetery, going farther south on U.S. Highway 27, there were very few houses all the way south to the "Dead Man's Curve" area. You would pass on your left the Yarbrough Bend Road which went about a mile over to the McGrady Road. Along the way, on Yarbrough Bend, was the old Rock Quarry on your left. We loved to fish and swim there, although if our parents found out we could expect a whipping.The water was crystal clear to the bottom (some said up to 90 feet  deep). You could see beautiful fish down there, but they could see you too and we seldom caught many.  In  WW II years, the Rock Quarry was where Uncle Sam got the rock (gravel) used to build the Naval Air  Training Center (which later became Russell Field,  Rome's local Airport). Word back in the day was that  when workers were mining the rock they had much heavy equipment down in the quarry and when they  struck water, the quarry filled with water so fast much of this equipment was never recovered. Tales (probably true) told of cars and trucks which accidentally -some maybe on  purpose- are  also down there on the bottom of the quarry. It would be interesting to know true stories of divers who have explored  these waters and could either vouch for or disprove these tales..

Dead Man's Curve on Old U.S. 27

McGrady road ran from Dead Man's Curve all the way out to the old Yarbrough farm at its end on the  south side of Armuchee Creek. During the years I'm writing about, the Buffington family lived there. Many times, the New Armuchee Baptist Church held its baptisms here. This is where I was baptized in  1953. Besides the Buffingtons in those years, I also knew some of the many McGrady Road families:  the  Burks (from their house you could walk through the woods to explore the cave on the north end of the  airport- hidden in the woods); the Lumsden's (Otis-our Ag teacher- and wife, Ruby, Charles, who married my younger sister Monna, Eddy, who became our County Commissioner and State Rep, and Lynn); the  Horn's, whose daughter Kay was one of my AHS classmates, sisters Carol and Debbie; the Reonas family; and the Jacksons, whose son MJ and I double dated many times. There were a number  of others whom I knew well from school years, but I didn't know they lived there (McGrady) 'til much later.

Baptismal Service, New Armuchee Creek Baptist Church around 1957

From Farmer's Bridge south on Old US 27, there was one more family, the Presleys; they
were great friends of mine for many years. Their sons, Dexter and Terry, were classmates at AHS
and have been dear friends for many years. Beyond the Presley place, down US 27, you came to Dead  Man's Curve. At this point, McGrady Road, Hatfield Road and Warren Road branched off. On south,  around the curve, my Uncle Lionel Marr and his family lived. Children of Lionel and Elminie (Harper)  Marr were Jimmy, Lenore, Charlotte and Woodfin, my first cousins.

Dexter and Terry Presley

 Again, during the period I'm writing about ('50's, and  '60's), I didn't know a lot of people on Warren Road, and Hatfield was not very populated. But there was one family on the Warren Road I would come  to know quite well and would eventually marry one of the daughters. That would be the Barnes family,  who brought their daughter Nancy into my life in the early '60's. After nearly 51 years of marriage, it's  hard to imagine when we were not together.

Anita Burk and Johnnie Johnson, 1965 at the Eubanks Wedding

Nancy Eubanks, Age 16

Mac Eubanks, Age 12

From the area of Dead Man's Curve southward on U.S. 27, the area was known as Dixie Park and  south of there, Glenwood. Technically we leave Armuchee behind I guess, but there were many kids in  Glenwood who would become great friends when they started attending the consolidated Armuchee  High School. But until then, I didn't know them. And even today, there are still many who consider Dixie  Park and Glenwood as separate communities and not a part of the Armuchee community (and I agree with them)!

In 1965, I married this girl of my dreams, Nancy Ellen Barnes, and we went to live in Atlanta. She  went to work for Southern Bell and I went to work for IBM while attending Georgia Tech. After that, our  lives were to take us to many different parts of the U.S., but always in the back of our minds, we thought  of returning one day to Armuchee. That dream came true in 1997 when we returned to live in the Floyd  Springs Community.

So we come to the end of a series of memories of my years of growing up in the community called  Armuchee-- that place which was not so much a  place as a "State of Mind". In my memory all the  homes, schools, churches, roads, creeks, groups and  most of all those individual people and families who were my friends were my own personal "State of Mind". I have never intended to set myself up as  any kind of authority or last word, only to put my memories out there for any who might be interested and to encourage others to share their own thoughts- especially with younger members of their own families or members of the community. Only in doing so can we make sure that what we experienced in  life is not lost to time after we are gone.

Mac Eubanks 


Monday, July 4, 2016


"The vision must be followed by the venture. It is not enough to stare up the steps - we must step up the stairs." Vance Havner
Read more at:

Isn't it funny how you're just rolling along, living your life, and then something grabs your attention and forces you to look over your shoulder, or around the corner, or over there behind the... well, you get the gist. If you're a genealogist, this typically happens whenever you come across an old book or letter, visit a family member or wander into a cemetery (and yes, I have been known to wander into a cemetery or two.) If you just happen to be a curious person by nature, then what I call the 'shiny syndrome' can occur at any given moment. You know what I'm talking about, admit it. You're on a mission, focused on what's ahead, and out of nowhere someone tosses a quarter in your path. Well, perhaps not an actual quarter, but something that distracts you and draws you away from your primary objective. As of late, I have felt like I needed to buy the most powerful sun glasses known to man just to stop the glare! I research constantly and I can never, ever get enough, but I have felt a bit scattered. What on earth is wrong with me? Then, while chasing another quarter down the sidewalk, I stumbled over the answer- my old journal.

While gathering information for a post on my Facebook group, the FAMILY DETECTIVE NETWORK, I referred back to a daily record I kept between the years of 1976 and 1996. That old journal of mine has become my best tool when it comes to dating photos, referencing family stories and remembering the past. I wrote everything down! I made notes of not only my personal feelings, but of political events, special dates in history, special people in history, oral histories from family members and places I visited. I was a walking recorder, putting on paper the things in life that made an impression on this then 16-year-old mind. One entry led to the next and before I knew it, I had created a small library that covered 20 years of my life. I can't remember why I actually stopped, perhaps it was as simple as I got tired, but I wish now I hadn't. In fact, it was while holding those original pages, carefully typed on an old Royal typewriter, that reminded me how focused I get when I write. And when I write in a journal, I get hyper-focused. My thoughts become organized and I remember what self discipline feels like. It's an incredible therapy that lessens the symptoms of 'shiny syndrome' and allows me to complete a thought. That is why, now armed with a minor epiphany, I have decided to not only start a new journal, but to share parts of it via this blog.

Making journal notes in Amsterdam, 1986. Photo by Catherine Pica.

My journal keeping all those years ago came about because I wanted to record my family history. My journal/blog now will be my attempt to share what I have learned about being a family detective in that time. I want to reveal all the little tricks I've learned. I want to help people think not just forward and backward, but sideways. I want to teach, encourage and perhaps inspire someone to begin chronicling their own family history.

It's never too soon to start and it's never too late.

After all, it was a journal from my childhood that came to my aid. A journal I began 40 years ago today.

Robin F. Atkins

Sunday, June 19, 2016


This is the eighth installment of memories presented by the host and author of Facebook's FRIENDS OF ARMUCHEE, Mac Eubanks.

Before I move on southward (south on 27 crossing Armuchee creek, I've got to detour a bit over on Little Texas Valley Road to talk about the churches. That'd be the Armuchee Methodist Church and maybe a 100 yards or less farther on, the New Armuchee Baptist Church.

Armuchee Methodist Church

I grew up Baptist going to the Baptist church so naturally I know more about it and it'll get more words, but that Methodist church was a great part of life for many Armuchee folks for the better part of 100 years or so. I was in it many times in my life, up 'til maybe age 16. I remember you always had some friend who'd invite you (as we'd invite them over to the Baptist church). I can even recall times of sneaking out of the Baptist Church to run over and sit through a sermon in the Methodist Church.

The two churches were separated by a large cedar tree about midway between them. I never knew if it was the Methodists' tree or the Baptists', but I'd bet it had hundreds of kids initials carved into it over the years. I know I put mine there. You know it would be great to know that after it died, or were cut down or bulldozed or whatever, someone took the time to claim enough wood from it to build some kind of memento about its importance to the many kids over the years who signed it. I remember we'd climb in the forks of that tree (and get that tree resin on our clothes and a scolding from our Mothers). (Was I talking about churches or trees?)

I do know that both churches were great respecters of each others' religious beliefs and as a youngster I certainly never heard of disagreements between the two. That doesn't mean they didn't happen, I just never heard of it. But all the folks in both churches were friends and neighbors in the community so I doubt there were ever many serious disagreements. I think the Baptist Church was always bigger (a bigger building and more attendees) but remember this was not only the "Bible Belt" but it was the "Baptist" Bible belt so I'd expect the Baptist church to be a bit bigger.

The New Armuchee Baptist Church Steeple Raising, 1959.

The Baptist Church was founded in 1900 if I recall (no I wasn't alive then, I just remember the 100 year celebration). For those who were never inside, it was originally a big "T" with the base of the "T" facing the Texas Valley Road (the sanctuary) and the top of the "T" toward the Armuchee Creek as the Sunday School rooms. Over time there were changes: two side wings were added to the sanctuary, a daylight - type basement was added under the top of the "T" for more classroom area. There were revivals and Easter Sunday mornings in the '50's when 300 or more people crowded in there for services. Some might find that hard to believe but there was this religious awakening sweeping the country after WWII and into the fifties and "Church" was the place to be for many, many people. There was a choir loft but no Baptistery--baptizing was done in the creek! And this might sound funny but having lived in a one-level house and gone to a one-level school and all my neighbors having one-level houses I'd never seen stairs before, so the stairs between the top and bottom levels of the "educational" area in back were the first stairs I'd ever seen. I even ran up and down them sometimes because I tho't it was fun 'til some adult would stop me and make me go into my Sunday School class or into the sanctuary.

A Summer Baptism in Armuchee Creek.

I remember a Minister named James O. Crabbe who was Pastor in the late forties when I started going to the church as a small child, maybe 4 or 5. He left in '49 or '50 and went (I think ) to Pleasant Valley North Baptist Church a few miles south on the Old Summerville Road. The Church then called E. Stanley Morris, who became Pastor in 1950, and would serve continuously until he died suddenly in 1972.

E. Stanley Morris, Pastor NABC 1950-1972

People of Armuchee of my age could just stop here and write a book about this man E. Stanley Morris. I'm surprised no one ever wrote a book about him, or if they did I never heard about it. He grew up in Lindale and his family ran a store there. My Father also grew up in that area and knew him as a  child. His wife, Ida, continued to run that store for a number of years after he became Pastor and they moved to Armuchee. They had a grown son named Jack who was obviously very dear to them as they both talked to anyone who would listen about him (from the pulpit too).

In mentioning those high attendance numbers for a small country church, I remember that the post war baby boom and twice-yearly  revivals led  to many new people joining the church and being baptized, including me. Since the church had no inside baptistery the baptisms were held in a nearby area of  Armuchee Creek. And because of the cold water, baptisms were usually held in June and September  when the water was warmer. Because of the long waits for warm weather, it wasn't uncommon to have  maybe 20, 30 or more candidates for baptizing at one time. So by its very nature, these services on the  creek bank became real summer happenings. Many church members, family  members and visitors would gather for these occasions. When the "new church" was built in 1960, it contained its own indoor  baptistery and the old creek practice faded into memory. Although the new indoor baptistery was much  more convenient, something of the old was lost to the new.

Rev. E. Stanley Morris performs Baptisms in Armuchee Creek.

Every summer, usually about two or three weeks after school was out, the church had its annual vacation  Bible School. For kids from miles around (toddlers through teenagers) this was another community "happening". Bible school consisted of Class Time with students learning and memorizing Bible stories and their meanings, play and recess and snack time, and worship time. Each age grouping had  age-appropriate "crafts".  There was also the "Pomp" time of marching into the sanctuary with flag bearers,  standing at attention, doing the pledges, singing and saying learned Bible verses together. The  Bible School was directed for many years (and  probably  founded) by Mr. Talmadge  Davis, a dairy farmer  who lived  two or three miles up the Little Texas Valley Road from the church. It seemed that  pretty much  every woman or man in the church who wasn't working some "regular" job helped Mr. Davis in this annual Bible School. Mr. Davis was a stalwart member of the church for many years and now has  the  church's  Christian Life Center named for him.

 Church Brotherhood Group. Walter Callahan, George Weaver,
Harold Thompson, Rev. Morris, Otis Lumsden and Quinton Miller.

Mr.  J. B Cantrell was hired about 1956 as the church's first paid Music Minister. He began music and choir programs involving small children through  adults. About 1958,  Mr. Fowler Cole was brought in to  replace  Mr. Cantrell. A couple of years later when we moved into the new church building, an electric  organ was purchased. For a number of years, Mrs. Stella Hyde (who was one of our Armuchee School  cooks) was the church's pianist. Later on, Mrs. Louise Burk became pianist and Mrs. Hyde's son, Hollis,  was the organist. Mr. Cole initiated many new musical programs including Christmas and Easter "Cantatas".

There were many programs available for children and youth. We had the Royal Ambassador group for boys, originally led by Mr. John (Uncle John) Hicks, and the Girls Auxiliary led by Mrs. Wilma Salmon.  For older girls, there was Acteens. All of these children and youth groups (including choirs) probably  involved  about 75 children of the church and community (we welcomed a number of non-members in these groups). One or the other of these groups - RA's , GA's, Youth Choir,  Acteens - seemed to always be having some kind of party or  get-together -- many times all of them at once! And we had local outings year-round (one winter Friday and Saturday, the RA boys and the men's group Brotherhood had a sleepover in Armuchee School with dinner and breakfast in the lunchroom and use of the gym  for  games and  sleeping),  and in the summer we had camps we attended. I recall a couple of youth sleep-overs at the church where the kids always had a lot of good clean fun. But our adult leaders were  smart, having the boys sleep downstairs and the girls upstairs. And a couple of adults always bedded down in  the stairwells in case any kids got any ideas of changing floors.

Church Basketball- (l-r) Mike & Quinton Miller, Unknown, Walter Callahan,
Dexter Presley,  Bobbie Eubanks, Robbie Miller, Unknown, Milton Eubanks,
George Weaver and Otis Lumsden.
Photo by Ken Weaver.

I have said in earlier writings that there were two or three people who I considered to be the most influential in my life--Mr. Harold Lindsey was one of them and E. Stanley Morris was another! This man was what you'd call nowadays a "hands on" person. I know that he became big in the Georgia Baptist Convention, he was a chaplain for the State of Georgia General Assembly, a respected officer of the Floyd County Baptist Association, etc. But he was also the one who appeared at anyone's bedside when they were in the hospital (he was hospital chaplain at Floyd Hospital for a number of years). He appeared at your door when there was a crisis or a death in the family. He'd also appear at your door just before lunchtime or supper if he tho't there might be some fried chicken on the stove! He came to your house to talk with you about the future of your eternal soul!  I'd understood he'd never claimed to be a "saint" in his earlier life, but few could question that he certainly gave it his all when he told God he'd become a minister. He drove back and forth to Truitt-McConnell College to get a theology degree, and for some time he even went back and forth to the Southern Baptist Convention's Seminary in Louisville, KY, taking religious courses.

New Armuchee Baptist Church's Royal Ambassador Group at
Summer Camp, 1958, Lake Winfield Scott.
(l-r front) Unknown, Larry Willingham, (l-r back) Mack Campbell,
Bobby Eubanks, Larry Anderson, Mac Eubanks. Photo by Ken Weaver. 

But there was so much that he'd do that few ever knew about. He'd stop by and sit on a kid's porch and talk with him and listen to him when the kid needed help. He'd drive to a camp where church boys or girls were spending the week to let them know he was a part of their lives and that he cared. He'd stop in at various youth group meetings, parties, etc. He was the only minister and he ministered to all ages. And through these years he was probably having a congregation of maybe 300! He always had fun doing the job of a minister. He'd preach against the evils and temptations of the devil and yet when the Royal Ambassador boys' group spent the week at Lake Winfield Scott and went over to the canteen and put their dimes in the jukebox to jitterbug with the girls who were there, he'd be right there smiling with them and tapping his foot and letting them have fun (and making sure none of us kids got into trouble if he could help it).

Yes this man was influential in my life--he married me there in that church of his, to the girl I've adored these 50 plus years and more. I'll never stop thinking highly of him. Maybe tomorrow I'll be able to get back to talking about the church but to those who were there in those years E. Stanley Morris was synonymous with the New Armuchee Baptist Church in the same way Harold A. Lindsey was synonymous with the Armuchee School.

Author's Wedding at New Armuchee Baptist Church, 1965.

The entries below are some of the anecdotes, memories and tributes some of my friends offered about  the church and its people:

Kay Hughes

Stanley Morris was everything you just said...A wonderful man. I remember going to VBS in that Baptist church...but our treats were served on the table that sat outside on the grounds.

Monna Lumsden

Mac, not only did he marry you and Nancy but also Carolyn and Pendley, Charles and I, and Donna and Mike. He also baptized the majority of us, didn't he. He was there when I miscarried and also when Lisa was born. He died the year Kim was born. Definitely felt like we had lost a member of our family.

Diane Youngblood Plemmons

I was born in March of 1950 and Stanley Morris took over that church in April of that year. He baptized me when I was about 12 years old in the New Armuchee Baptist Church that is still used today and he married me to my husband of 43 years. They don't make pastors like him anymore. Loved him and Ida. He could always be counted on to show up when he was needed and he was truly a man of God.

Judy Willingham Harper

Mac, I feel the same way as you about Stanley Morris and Harold Lindsey. Both were a big part of mine and Larry's lives. When my Dad died they were the first two at our house. Rev. Morris baptized Larry and I in Armuchee Creek. He also married Billy and I.

Sue Quinn and I use to sing The Old Rugged Cross with him on Sunday nights.

Rhonda Hicks Willis

Most summers I remember going to VBS at both the Methodist and the Baptist churches. I also remember having Sunday School classes in the basement of the old church, while the adults had their classes in the sanctuary with only curtains separating their "rooms." From childhood to college, Stanley Morris was my pastor, baptizing me after the new church was built. When I think of NABC I always think of him and Ida, too, who was one of my Sunday School teachers...sweet memories, indeed.

Ann King Eubanks

I worked for BellSouth in Marietta for the District Manager. I was meeting our new boss for the 1st time and I knew he was from Rome and his name was Jack Morris. I told him that I knew a Rev. Stanley Morris from Rome and I asked him if he knew him. I will never forget.....he said yep, sure did, he was my dad!!!  I was so surprised!  He was one of my favorite bosses. He had to have a kidney transplant while I worked for him. He was a a great person!! I just ran into to his wife Peggy a few months ago and she is still as sweet and pretty as ever.

Cynthia Eubanks

I will never forget the night that the old Armuchee Church (on the right, just past the bridge that goes over Armuchee Creek) burned!! We were having a very bad storm....we were already in bed for the sisters and I were looking out the big window at the head of our bed....when we saw a huge flash of lightning,and in a few seconds later, we could see smoke....a lot of it....coming from that area. We didn't know what the lightning had struck at that time;we thought it was probably someone's house...then we found out that our church had burned!!!! So sad!!

I loved Preacher Morris!! So did everybody else! He used to come and visit at my house and sit on the porch and talk for a while!! He baptized me when I was about 11 or 12 years old! I was baptized in the church....not in the creek!!!! Thank goodness, I remember that it was nice and warm....just like bath water!!!!

Vicki Greene Woods

I remember VBS in the old church and the new church. We were so proud of that new church when it was built. I even remember the smell of the stair wells. Funny how something like that stays with you. Rev. Morris was a tremendous influence on my life. He baptized me when I was 9, and, under his preaching, I gave my life to "full time Christian service," as he called it. Since I have been away, I realize the tremendous leadership he provided in that church, because of the many, many volunteers and leaders he influenced. Those volunteers were the ones who touched my life each week as Sunday School teachers, GA leaders, choir leaders, and Training Union, and Discipleship Training leaders. I will always be grateful for the spiritual heritage I have because of Rev. Morris.

Rhonda Hicks Willis

Back in those days, it was customary for members of the church to feed the pastor (Preacher Morris) and visiting preacher during the revival. I remember my mom and dad always inviting them to a meal at our house during that week of revival. As a kid, that was a high pressure event! Had to mind my p's and q's for sure!

Gale Carney Wilson

One of my fondest memories was when Preacher Morris turned 50 and his party was at the school, if I remember right. Anyway, everyone too 50 cent pieces as his gift and all us kids thought that was great.

~ Article Submitted by Mac Eubanks ~