MEMORIES OF THE RANCHVALE BAPTIST CHURCH

"BUT AS MANY AS RECEIVED HIM,  TO THEM 

       GAVE HE POWER TO BECOME SONS OF GOD,

           EVEN TO THEM THAT BELIEVE  ON HIS NAME."

                   .......JOHN 1:12   KJV

        ************************

I will always have a special place in my heart 

for the Ranchvale Baptist Church folks and

all the farmers I knew who lived out in

that rural community (area).

Some of the best people I have ever known 

lived out there. Most of them have gone

on to "farm" forever in Beulah Land ...

  "I look away across the sea

       where mansions are 

   prepared for me 

        and view the shining 

   glory shore...my heav'n   

       my home, forevermore."

We had a farm out there...a nice section

of wheat land, one mile east of 

the little  country church. Our farming

days (my dad and brother and I) began

in August 1945, on just about the same

day of the Japanese surrender.

Dad had owned and run single-handedly

the Magic Steam Laundry down on West

Grand in Clovis, all through the "Big One,"

WWII, keeping the airmen at CAAFB in

spiffy starched uniforms.

It was time for a change of occupations

and Ranchvale farming was his choice.

We continued to live in town.  RV was 

seven miles NW, as a crow flies.

In those days, the wheat crops on each

farmer's "place,"  and on which they

depended for a year's income---began 

to mature and need harvesting---all within 

days of each other. 

Thus groups of farmers worked together

on cutting and hauling, for each other,

moving from one farm to another, and

often working until midnight.

Many times have I seen on a hot June 

evening on someone's wheat field, the 

farmer's wives drive up to the combines,
trucks, and tractors and bring out
old-fashioned dish pans full of Kerr quart
jars, full of iced tea or "sweet milk" and
ice cubes, the lids screwed on tightly.

Then there might be fried chicken and

mashed potatoes, veggies....or maybe

sandwiches galore with iced soda pop

bottles.

The weather could "turn off bad" at any

time and ruin the ripened crop with a

hail storm..or heavy rain.

We eventually got another section over

across Running Water Draw, five

or six miles NW of Ranchvale. This meant

that we had to drive our big orange Case

Wheatland tractors from one farm to 

another, oft with the 22 1/2 foot One-Way

plow rigged for "trailing."

This meant going by the RV church, turning 

north and heading  toward the dry draw

where there was no bridge.

It also meant going thru the village, by the

school, the Methodist Church,  and stopping

at Herb's nice little country store on the

northern edge of town. 

To a sunburned, dusty, tired, teenager of

about 15 years, the store was a cooling, 

welcome place, where you could load 

up on snacks and sodas...and visit a

minute with Herb.

So yes, I loved everything about RV,

its people, and I passed the little

country church many times over.

I knew Herbert Bergstrom when he was

a young pastor out there...and in later

years Tom Sumrall, also a pastor.

Little did I realize in those "halcyon" days

of the forties, when the whole world was

young----that someday I would 

study voice for more than four 

years and would become a Gospel Singer.

After graduating from CHS, I went off to

school and never returned but once

or twice to the old farm---once about 1969

to take pictures.

Then I was invited to lead the music at RVBC

for a week's revival. 

After singing in sixty-three or more revivals,
and some Cowboy Camp Meetings, I have
little recollection of what songs I sang where.

But there was one special night when working

in the revival meeting at Ranchvale---that I

especially remember...Dad and a bunch of

men from the Central Baptist Church Men's

Brotherhood came to visit the service...and

I do remember what I sang as a solo:

It was a gospel song of testimony about 

what Jesus did for us...why He came to

earth....

"In loving kindness, Jesus came

    My soul in mercy to reclaim;

And from the depths of sin and shame,

   Through grace He lifted me.

From sinking sand, He lifted me

   With tender hand He lifted me;

From shades of night

   To plains of light

O praise His name, He lifted me."

Some great and fine Christian men 

came out there to hear me sing...

and I can only try to remember

who...

Mr. Hudnall, Mr. Joplin, Mr.Vaughn,
Mr. Bender, Mr. Comer, Mr. Boney,
Mr. Wayne...two rows of men...in suits..
and Dad.

The old rural church has today a rather

mod look. But great memories still 

remain with me...

How can one ever forget the people

of that day...or the kinship you 

develop with the land ...and even the

smell of the soil.

One mile east of the RVBC and 

the village...our land is still there...

it is no longer "ours," except in our

hearts...and Dad's gone on to Beulah

Land.  

The remains of our brand new 1947

GMC wheat truck have been hauled 

away and Bobby Joe tells me:  "The 

windmill at your old home place is

gone..." 

Ah, is nothing permanent...in life?

Yes.

""In loving kindness Jesus came,

     our souls in mercy

          to reclaim."

Bury my heart at Ranchvale.

-----------------

BY MIL

19 May 2018