If the Creeks Don't Rise

A Mt. Pisgah church baptizing in Potter Creek. This spot was not only used for baptizing but was also a favorite swimming hole. A creek in the Ozark’s hills can rise quickly during heavy rains. The creek that flooded our valley one Sunday morning in 1957 starts east of Mt. Pisgah church and continued through Uncle Floyd’s farm, Grandpa and Uncle Warren’s farm, through our farm and then emptied into Potter Creek below our farm. 

Photo by

  
Margaret Walls  

Written by 
LeRoy Walls 
CEO 

It was a warm Sunday morning in the spring of 1957, and the rain was pouring down as we milked our 12 cows. I loved to be in the barn, especially in the hayloft, when it was raining hard so I could listen to the relaxing sound of rain on the tin roof.

After the farm chores, each child had specific Sunday morning duties. Keith, age 18, was old enough to do pretty much as he pleased like getting out his car, a yellow 1949 Chevy convertible or the family car, a black four-door 1950 Plymouth. Carolyn, age 13, helped with the cooking and dressing of Glen and Donna. I, age 12, dried and put away the dishes that Dad washed. Donna, age 9, entertained Glen, age 1, who ran everywhere and with the help of the older four brought a circus atmosphere to Sunday mornings.

After Keith came in telling us the creek was over its banks we knew that we’d be staying at home this rainy Sunday. Even though I normally looked forward to Sundays with my friends and relatives at Mt. Pisgah this was still like a holiday for all of us.

The church was an important spiritual and social part of our lives. Grandpa Walls, "Brother" Odom or some of Mt. Pisgah’s great old timers would often respond to someone’s, "See you next Sunday" farewell by saying, "If the Lord’s willin’ and the creeks don’t rise!" On this special Sunday, this old saying took on a literal meaning for us as the creek that flows down our valley was flooded and cut off the only exit out of our place.

This rainy Sunday remains special in my memory. Mom and Dad talked about the "old days", of the hard times during the depression and during the war. They also talked of party games, pie suppers and chivareaus. With our being cooped up, Mom was reminded of how families used to go visitin’ or have company over on days that were too wet and cold to work outside.

This day included Donna practicing some on her piano and Glen entertaining us. We’d had these good times together many times before and would have many more over the years. Yet, soon it would be a different era as Keith first and then the rest of us would grow up, marry and leave the security of this home for the dreams of our own lives.

Over the years we learned a lot from Mom and Dad. Keith can harness a team of horses and use them to operate a dump rake. Carolyn can pick out feed sacks that she can make into an attractive dress. Donna can scald chickens and pluck their feathers. Glen can milk cows by hand, and I can repair burlap "gunny" sacks so they’ll be worth a nickel. Besides learning these important skills to prepare us for life, we also learned much, much more from our parents.

12/31/1999