Andrew Gentry

Grandmother's Story

Andrew Gentry

When my grandmother was a young lady in the 1890s in the Low Country of South Carolina, the main social event of the year was the traveling tent revival. She and her favorite sister Laura, who was not afraid of man nor beast, were excited when they heard the news that the tent would soon be in their neck of the woods. They knew their father, who took no nevermind when it came to such holy-roly conflagration, would not be keen on their attending, but they pursued his permission nonetheless. They did not care for the preacher or the singing, but they knew there would be a number of young handsome lads in attendance hoping to meet young ladies of a virtuous reputation. How much more virtuous could you be than a pious soul listening to the "message"! So the day came, and Grandmother, whose name was Mary Jane, along with Laura, wearing their best Sunday-go-to-meeting attire, ardently petitioned their stern father not only to allow them to go, but to use the buggy with the fringe instead of the mule wagon as transport. Great grandfather Hezekiah relented and assigned his best mare to lead these two lassies to the font of salvation. They were overjoyed and left out early to go to the Big Tent. In due course they arrived, and to their great joy, the county's best-looking lads were there. People were milling about when the old pump organ the preacher brought with him began to wheeze and moan something that sounded like a hymn. The preacher, who was a tall and just plain mean-looking SOB, began to pray tirelessly. Grandmother and Laura bowed their heads but continued to engage in flirtatious glances when, suddenly, the self-anointed prophet of cotton and tobacco fields rose up from his knees and began to preach and shout. He was swaying and pert near foaming at

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the mouth about "the spirit" and how it was one would manifest being given this gift of the Holy Ghost! About that time, a hard-shell bug fell down Laura's neck and into her dress. She begin to writhe and twist, and the old preacher took note of her manifestations. He shouted a jubilee and said "the sister has the spirit"! By this time, Laura was in considerable distress and grabbed Mary Jane's hand, and began to run from the tent. The preacher yelled "Don't leave sister-you have the spirit!" but to no avail. As she and Mary Jane ran out of the tent, my grandmother yelled back "NO she has the Bug!" They jumped into the buggy and spared neither whip or horse till they were home and safe from further embarrassment. Often what appears to be "spirt" is just the "bug"!

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