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Julian Astor Lindsey Memoirs

The Reverend Doctor Julian Astor Lindsey served the Gibsonville Methodist Church from 1947 through 1951. After his retirement, Dr. Lindsey wrote his memoirs that spanned his lifetime. The portion of the memoir dedicated to his time and experience at Gibsonville begins on page 166 and ends on page 179 and is reproduced below.

GIBSONVILLE

In 1947 the appointive procedure in Methodism was quite different than it is today. In most cases there was no consultation with either the minister who seemed scheduled to move or with the church to which he might be scheduled to go. It was a very secretive procedure which insured that there was a tremendous speculation about where one would be appointed. I cannot document that there were exceptions in some cases where the top echelon ministers, so called, were consulted, as possibly were the churches to which they were going. Nevertheless, the general rule was secrecy until the moment that the presiding bishop read the appointments. This was so much the case that there were incidents in my memory of great anguish when a minister heard his appointment made. I recall one case when the minister was so disappointed that he literally made a spectacle of himself in a display of grief and anger.

This has changed for the better across the years. Today there is mandatory consultation with the minister and with the pastor parish staff relations committee taking place early in the appointment process. This has several distinct advantages. It enables the family moving to make acquaintance with the leaders and others in the charge to which they are going. Further, it removed the unnecessary stress that formerly reigned at the site of Conference. It also removes the easily thought of "autocratic" stance that bishops and cabinets could effect. If adjustments are desirable, and this is frequently the case, it can be accomplished before rather than after conference. Knowing that a move is to be made, it helps immeasurably to know the fact weeks before the event in accomplishing many needed details. One wonders why it took so long for the advantages of releasing the appointments early, to eventuate, along with the healthy and human consultation with all parties to moving. There is an ongoing story about one of the bishops of the Western North Carolina Conference who after reading the appointments a generation or so ago, simply disappeared for a couple of weeks in order to insure that no changes could be considered. This was indefensible and was changed as indeed it should have been. As a Cabinet member in the Western North Carolina Conference for 12 years altogether, I witnessed the evolution of change gladly. It made for happier churches and ministerial families.

However, it did not help us in 1947. We had no idea where we were to be appointed. When it was stated by the Bishop that we would be going to Gibsonville, we had no idea where it was. If I had ever heard of it, I could not remember it. Of course, there had been no contact between us and any Church leaders. At that time I had decidedly black hair. One minister who had been at Gibsonville came up to me and imparted the much needed assurance that a few years there would result in my being blessed with white hair. I immediately knew that he had not made the grade there, and for that matter had been pretty much of a "dud" everywhere he had been. So, I rewarded him with the statement that not knowing a thing about the people or the Church, I believed I preferred to go there with an open mind and find out the facts for myself.

The facts after a very casual evaluation were not of a caliber to cause one to join in the singing of the "Hallelujah Chorus". The parsonage was a disgrace. It had been neglected for years. It was only a little bit better than the one at Norwood Circuit, which was as bad as one could find under a roof There were two Churches. One was immediately across the street from the parsonage and was in bad repair, although it was the one being used as a place of worship. It was the Southern Branch of Methodism, and the one up the street one block was the former Methodist Protestant Church . So called union had taken place in 1939, but if there was any union it had managed to remain incognito. There was a hut at both Churches which was used for church school and other educational purposes. Both were in bad repair and sadly inadequate.

It became obvious very early that there was great ill-will between the constituents of the two Churches, and that the leadership in the ill-will was largely vested in two families which had managed to get the members, in general, to take sides. The result was that nothing of importance was happening. Everyone knew that there was great need for the improvement of facilities, but even though this was obvious, the men who headed the two feuding families, could and did, get along fine as members of the local bank board, yet sought in no way to get the congregation to implement the fact that structurally they were now one religious body.

I saw that as the very first thing I had to get underway. Gibsonville is a textile town; one of the Cone Mills, by name Minneola. Unfortunately, large numbers of the members were employed at the mill, and lived in homes owned by Minneola. As is the case in many communities there is a so called "upper" crust and "lower" crust, socially speaking, that intrudes itself into the social atmosphere of the community. To be quite frank these "lower" crust people had been neglected and their interest in, and attendance at, Church showed the fact. So, what was needed was an effort on my part to give them an assurance that they were important to the life of the Church and that the Church was important in their lives. And they caught on very quickly. This was done while showing equal interest in the other segment of the membership. The result was that attendance and interest blossomed. This resulted in the necessity of bringing chairs for services from the former Methodist Protestant hut. In a meeting of the junior age group, then so-called, whose superintendent was the wife of the leader of the Methodist Protestant contingent, she made the statement, in my presence, that no longer would anyone transfer the chairs to the sanctuary for services, even though they were back in place for use in the hut. Well, that was the place where I felt I needed to let it be known that I was "minister in charge" Without showing anger I simply said that it was encouraging to have the people responding as they were, that the chairs belonged to the Church, and that I would decide, if and when, we needed the chairs and arrange for them to be used. She recoiled, but remained silent. However, it was reported to me a few days later that she had gone home in tears and reported the incident. The person reporting stated that her son had indicated he would come and deal with me.

Maybe it was very unchristian for me to suggest to the messenger that he tell the son it might be a mistake for him to make the intended call. He never came to see me. Now, I will not disclaim that the incident had two results. One result was that many people knew that I intended to get things straightened out in the Church. They became the majority group. Inevitably the family and close associates of the lady in question became enemies, and remained so during our ministry. When their daughter was married, I was not asked to have the service, but I made the Church available to the minister they chose to hold the service. Their treatment of me backfired on them and made my support from the congregation in general more substantial. You see, there was the report that the family involved in this enmity had a long history of doing things as they wished. The family head was the superintendent of Minneola Mill, as was his father. It was told in the community that he as leader of the Methodist Protestant Church had objected to the appointment of a given minister, whereupon he took the sanctuary clock from the wall and took it home. In addition, there was the time when he objected to the choir leader moving the organ just a little bit for better effect, and came with twenty penny nails and nailed it to the floor where he wanted it. Maybe some of my predecessors would put up with that attitude. The people there were waiting to see if I would. Additionally, I was informed that when the parsonage committee made plans to make the parsonage livable, the lady with whom I had the confrontation stated that they needed to be careful about what they did or else they would make us as comfortable as they were in their fine home. Little risk of that! But it did help.

The chairman of trustees was a member of the former Protestant Church , and a successful business man. The official board at a meeting decided that the parsonage should be painted. Creosoted shingles were obviously discolored from the creosote and they needed to be painted with a paint that would prevent the creosote from seeping through and giving a bad appearance to the entire house. The chairman was not present for the meeting, so I called him the morning after it was approved and advised him of the decision. Quickly and irritably, he said, "I don't want it painted"! I reminded him that this was a decision of the board to which he was responsible and that he had until the following Wednesday to implement the work. He hung up, but in a few minutes he called back and said, "What was the date you indicated when we talked?" The painting was done!

The plans to rectify the deplorable facilities took much careful and patient work. But the constant efforts to keep the facilities usable had convinced the majority of the members that not only did we need to do something but that we had the resources to do it. Many evenings a few of us spent in painting the hut behind the church used for services and in cleaning the floors so that the children did not soil their good clothes when there. The stained glass windows in the church were in such condition that I colored heavy paper and pasted it over the broken places. The furnace was inadequate and on occasion did not properly heat the sanctuary. The custodian was an alcoholic who did not every week clean properly and some Sundays neglected his duties altogether. There were times when I had to get up and see that we had proper heat in the sanctuary and the two huts. The custodian had eventually to be replaced but getting a successor was not easy.

After much struggle, the decision was made to build an educational building. Opponents did everything possible to prevent the decision being made. However, by this time I was in my third year at Gibsonville and the people were ready to proceed even though it continued to create limited opposition. For example, among the decisions made was to sell the property of the former Protestant Church . It was too limited in size to consider it for an education building. The wife of the chairman of trustees in conversation said that the property would not be sold so long as her husband was chairman of the trustees. The Church had officially acted on this, so I pointed out that he could not prevent it being sold. The fact is that I told her he would simply be replaced, inasmuch as a successor would be nominated. He relented and we sold the old property to another church group that found it usable.

The youth and young adults were particularly responsive to what we tried to do in their interest. I doubt that we ever had a group that was more fun to work with than was the young adults at Gibsonville. The youth group prospered too. We needed a vastly better choir. There was a young man in the church who was capable in music. He was an employee of Minneola, and to some extent under the control of management. However, he managed to get together a good choir and to enlist a number of youth and young adults who had not been so used before. Unfortunately, he contracted cancer and did not survive. Things were beginning to change attitudinally by now and it was somewhat a surprise that the son of the trustee chairman, a well trained musician, agreed to become director. He did a fine job and was still director when we moved from that Church.

Five years are a long time to have both the opportunity and the responsibility of ministering to a group of individuals; and the word, "individual" has to be very focal, for there would be no two in the congregation, or the entire community, with uniformly like tastes, strictly personal needs, or distinctly personal concepts of what the minister should be and do. No minister should be foolish enough to disabuse his mind of the fact that he literally lives in "a glass bowl", and that, whether he likes it or not, his family members join him there day in and day out.

Both Julianne and Stuart came to bless our family while we were there, not only then, but ever since. They both were born in Greensboro ; Julianne at Wesley Long Hospital and Stuart at St. Leo's. Julianne appeared to be hesitant about arriving in this world, a fact which necessitated a number of trips to the Hospital before, with the doctor's help, she arrived. Stuart, on the other hand, appeared anxious to get here, and came to quickly that there is doubt that the doctor was really there upon his arrival. I am accused of consorting with the doctor for help with Julianne's arrival. There is some validity to that: both he and I were weary of trips to the Hospital without desired and expected arrival.

Despite our increased family, we were happy that Da and Grandpa Stiffler could come and be with us for a time. They were in process of moving to Hertford , North Carolina , and there were difficulties that made it necessary for them to live elsewhere for a short time. Da was a help with the children and Grandpa used his skills there as he had, at Norwood , to upgrade living. I can still see Da rocking Julianne to sleep and remember, too, her little head on my shoulder as we rocked by the oil heater in the living room. One vivid memory of Grandpa was his eager help concerning some grapes I had canned just before going away for a few days. Upon return, I discovered that the cans had not sealed and surmised that I had lost them. However, Grandpa had other ideas. A hasty test on his part convinced him that he knew how to put those fermented grapes to good use! The parsonage was poorly heated, and with the coming of Julianne, we needed more heated space. My brother, James, was living in Greensboro at that time and had what was termed a "warm morning heater" that was not in use. We gladly went to get it, and anyone familiar with that heater knows that it is more than a one man job to move it. Help was provided and when in place the stove was a very effective addition.

One of the finest men in the Church was the highly respected chairman of the official board, as it was then called. He was one of the most generous givers in the Church. He had one problem that continually surfaced. While we were striving to institute various programs that would be of interest to all segments of the membership, he was continually insistent that we have "revivals". To him the church existed for the purpose of holding "revivals". Ultimately, without there being any ugliness on his part, he decided that he would sponsor the establishment of a church that had the "revivals", in numbers, that he desired. He was a loss to the Church, but we simply could not be "suffocated" by so many "revivals" that other things of importance were left undone. We did have "revivals" though. I mentioned previously the Dr. Excelle Rozzelle conducted one for us. Dr. Mark Depp, then minister at Centenary, Winston Salem had another, and Dr. Henry Ruark, a cousin of Fran's, and one of the most respected and effective ministers in the North Carolina Conference, was also with us.

Gerald James, Superintendent at the Gibsonville School , which was just across the street from the parsonage, was a member of the Church, and quite active in numerous ways. One day he came to see me, and knowing that I had played baseball at Virginia Tech, asked me if I would coach the baseball team. I had enjoyed playing softball in the summer league and found it a good way to influence youth and young adults, so I agreed to be coach. It was demanding of time, but overall, it was both meaningful to me and offered an opportunity to influence the players and student body at the High School. We had one player who was clearly the best of those on the team. Unfortunately, he was too aware of the fact himself, and absented himself from practice the day before we were to play Allen Jay, in Greensboro . When I sent the list of those to make the trip to Gerald, I left this player off the list. He was upset by this, and went directly to his father. He, in turn, came to me to give him an explanation of why this had happened. I explained to him that his son was possibly our best player, but that he was not so good that he could assume for himself, what would decimate the team, if everyone took the same position and skipped practice. In short, I said to him that if he wanted to be on the team, he not only could be better than he then was, but that when the team practiced, he, too, would be expected to do so. The father calmed down, but he did more; just what I never knew, but his son never missed practice again.

While I was in Gibsonville, the Christian Rural Overseas Program, or CROP, decided to have a State-wide campaign to secure clothing for the needy. I never knew who suggested that I head it up, but I was asked to do so. That was an effort that would require me to work out of Durham , thereby negating in large measure any work I could do in Gibsonville. I could not possibly do what I had been asked to do without the permission of the Official Board. Agreement was easily reached with that group and for a month I commuted to Trinity Church , Durham , Monday through Friday. I made myself available for emergencies and had the services on Sunday. The effort was successful and although I forget just what our goal was, we accomplished it. There was no remuneration, but my traveling expenses and other expenses were paid.

The youth of the Church had never availed themselves of the opportunity to be a part of a program that had them come together in so-call "sub-district" gatherings to gain a perspective larger than that of just the local church. When given the opportunity to be a part of this effort, they were eager to do so, and responded in a good way.

While we were in Gibsonville, I had a very bad episode with my back. I had injured it while playing softball when at Wesley Memorial. It had responded to treatment at the time of injury, but suddenly was so bad that I couldn't get our of bed. Fran called Duke Hospital and made arrangements for me to go there and see Dr. Lenox Baker, then head of the Orthopedic Department. 173 The trip was agonizing. Dr. Baker wanted to do surgery, stating that I had a partly herniated disc. I dissented on this and he decided that he would do an "adjustment", understandable since he had been a chiropractor prior to becoming an orthopedic doctor. He gave me an anesthetic, so it must have been a bit more than a so-called "adjustment". The result was good, and even though there have been flare-ups since, I am glad that I did not let him fuse vertebrae in my lower back.

Bishop Costen Harrell was the Presiding Bishop in the Conference when he called a special Conference meeting, at West Market Street , Greensboro . I developed a sermonette based on an incident that had happened on Main Street , in Gibsonville, when I passed a little boy and in greeting said, "How are you sonny?" He startled me by replying, "I ain't good for nothing!" I have no idea just what I said, but I learned later than Bishop Harrell was impressed by my effort, a fact which he expressed to the Cabinet somewhat later when an appointment for me was being discussed.

I remember how distressed Fran was that she was unable to go to school the first day when Bryant was entering. She was in the hospital for the birth of Julianne. Her inability to accompany him was well handled by him and he rapidly adjusted to the new circumstances entailed at school.

We had a beautiful white cat, which Alice says was hers. In any case, we were concerned upon finding that it was missing. We were aware that community cats were missing because someone was taking them for sale to nearby Elon College for experimental purposes. Upon going there to investigate, I found our missing cat and retrieved it. I have been concerned that the College would condone the practice of getting experimental animals in such questionable manner. On second thought, persons who would steal them initially would not hesitate to remove identification tags, leaving the impression that the cat they had brought was a stray.

Minneola Mill experienced a strike while I was in Gibsonville. In the Church there were large numbers of people who were day workers and others who were executives. It was impossible to ignore the significance of the strike, or to attempt to provide what, I considered, "Christian Insights", and the position of the Methodist Church about "collective bargaining". I decided to preach a sermon about that. In this instance, I felt it well to read the sermon so, if challenged about the content. I could have proof of exactly what I had said. By mid-afternoon. I was challenged by Mr. Allen, an executive at Minneola. I suggested that he come to the parsonage and I showed him the text of what had been said. He was unhappy, but his expectation of challenging me was completely nullified.

The strike was ugly, as indeed most of them have a way of being. There were incidents of mild violence, although none of them resulted in personal injuries. I was invited to come to the local theater, by the leaders of the strike, to address any who desired to attend. I have wondered if it was thought that I would unequivocally take the side of those who were striking and heap condemnation on management. If so, they were disappointed in my address. I expressed the position of the Methodist Church concerning the right of employees to engage in efforts to improve working conditions, and pay for services. I spoke about the fact that considerable capital was involved by owners in making available jobs for them. The fact that they had no right, as I viewed the matter, to do violence to those who wanted to report for work, or to their property, was a factor not to be forgotten. There had been reports of slashed tires to those who reported to work of "scabs" as they are termed. I am not sure that I said other things, but I recall having said the ones cited. I don't know that I helped them in their thinking, but I did at least seemingly get them to do reasoned thinking in lieu of being a party to actions with continuing unfortunate results.

I was at the time President of the Gibsonville Rotary Club and had at least weekly contact with a number of Minneola executives. In part because of that and because, too, I was sure they knew what I had said at the meeting of the strikers, I felt it best to go and talk directly with members of management, including Mr. Cone, son of the owner of the mill. I was received with courtesy and we talked for some time about ways that might be followed to end the strike with somewhat good and fair results to both parties. That appeared to happen. The strike was soon over and so far as either community bitterness, or divisiveness in the Church, resulting. I recall neither. The closest thing I encountered to a personal attack was the question raised about what I had said in the sermon, referred to earlier.

The education building was completed in time. The contractor was bonded, a fact which eventuated to our advantage. There were some shortcomings, especially in the fact that he initially had done a poor job in sealing the lower walls against water intake. We suffered some damage before that matter was corrected, but overall having the facility ready for use was a glorious day. At long last. I had an office and we no longer had to use the inadequate huts. Moreover, one side of the building conveyed the inescapable fact that the sanctuary was to be affixed at that point. It was clear to everyone that only one phase of preparation for the future had been accomplished. Today, there is a beautiful sanctuary attached and in addition the site of the old inadequate parsonage is now a parking lot for the Church, and one of the best parsonages in the Greensboro District is residence for the appointed minister and family.

Even the highly rewarding things to which we are party must come to an end. We felt, and so did the District Superintendent, that after five years at Gibsonville, we should be appointed elsewhere. The congregation had made very commendable and appreciated strides in ministerial support during our tenure. The salary had more than doubled from $2300 to $5000. It was all needed as we were now a family of six rather than four.

A friend whom I had made in High Point , while in the Junior Chamber of Commerce, a young lawyer and leader in the Main Street church, High Point , had spoken to me about coming there. I asked for an appointment with Dr. Lambeth, the District Superintendent, to discuss our move. He granted the interview, but he was obviously ill at ease as we talked. When the High Point situation was mentioned, he became so confused, that, although he was attempting to shave, he was trying to use the razor without having a blade in it and seemed totally unaware of the fact that he was getting nowhere. All that he would say was that "you are too young to be considered for that Church." I would hear that more than once again during my ministry. It has appeared to me that in a given year one is "too young" to be considered for a given appointment, and the next year or so, "too old". I could write a thesis on that, but why bother. Guaranteed appointment to all ministers who are in good standing is at the heart of the matter, and there are those who must be taken care of despite the fact that they have few or no markedly successful pastorates. With that introduction, I desist from further comment.

One must never forget that there are times when one has no control over circumstances or results; things work out surprisingly well. This was the case in our appointment following Gibsonville. We were appointed to Centenary, Greensboro , an old Church in South Greensboro , which had known better days, before population changes had inevitably changed its destiny. I suppose that Dr. Lambeth and the Cabinet considered it a less worthy appointment than Main Street , High Point . Aha! Main Street is no longer a Church. Population changes destroyed its attractiveness and it succumbed. Not so, Centenary. Many of its members had moved to North Greensboro or elsewhere. That made continued membership and attendance difficult. Yet, I recall no situation during my ministry where greater loyalty was manifested than was the case with that congregation. More about that later when detailed coverage of the Centenary pastorate is recorded. Maybe Dr. Lambeth miscalculated. I do recall that there was the occasion when we were at Gibsonville. when he was supposed to be present for a charge conference and did not show up. He was supposed to preach as well as hold the conference. I recall what Paul Hardin once said. "In any given situation where things can go wrong and when responsibility falls on you, it is a good thing to have a sermon in the coat pocket". We managed some way that day. Later he acknowledged that he had become confused about getting to Gibsonville and ended up in Reidsville. I believe I would have made a better excuse than that. Senility is very pervasive!

Arriving at a pastorate is a difficult time and leaving one where you feel good about any results attained, is difficult in another way. In many ways the people were good to us and showed their appreciation for our efforts and leadership. Many times it is easy to experience a virtual panorama of faces of people in Gibsonville. many of whom are now gone, but some of whom are still there. When we go back on occasion now, it is such a wonderful experience to see them and exchange greetings and engage in reminiscences. There are so many faces that appear, on thought, that I have purposely abstained from mentioning names. But there is one person, although unnamed, who will forever stand tall in our love and appreciation. We simply did not have the money to buy sufficient milk for the children. This lady knew that, and simply began and continued bringing milk in substantial quantities as long as we were there. I speak for Fran and myself, and for the children, when I say that much of the good health enjoyed by all of the children can be attributed to the efforts of one who cared so much for so long.

I didn't know where Gibsonville was when we were appointed there, but I know where it is now, as do all of our family. Maybe Julianne and Stuart were too young to remember much about it, but thanks for the faculty of memory that enhances the ability for the others of us to have an inner glow when the name is mentioned. On second thought, I might be underestimating Julianne's memory. She was barely two years of age when we had a catastrophic train wreck one night near the train station. The horizon was lighted by the resulting fire and the locomotive whistle blared for an incredible amount of time. That it was extremely frightening is remembered by Julienne, so maybe other things as well, are lodged in her memory.

Getting ready to move took on new dimensions with the addition of two family members while we were in Gibsonville. As was the case in all of our moves, it was necessary to get boxes in which to pack our books both at the church and at home. This was an increasingly comprehensive factor as we inevitably collected more and more things to be packed. This might be a good point at which to disclose the fact that we moved 27 times. Not all of these moves were to different appointments, but in the larger connotation "a move is a move" and one deludes himself to think otherwise. While at Wesley Memorial, we moved four times, at Broad Street and Lexington twice, while in Charlotte as Director of the Conference Council on Ministries, twice. This was one of the hardest moves we ever made because we assumed that we were just moving across a courtyard to another apartment we could do so without really packing things. Several members of the family came to help, but it was a nightmare. John Loflin, our son-in-law, almost seriously injured himself when he fell while helping to move a heavy piece of furniture. I became quite proficient in packing, by necessity. The Conference provided some help in the cost of actually conveying the household effects once they were ready to move. However, there was never an occasion when there was any money provided for getting it ready to move. It seems harder in retrospect, fortunately, than it did while it was happening. So, when the moving van appeared, we knew the time had come. The multiple memories, some of which I have shared, and others so personal and precious as to be stored away in a little secret compartment of the brain, to be added to in the unfolding ministry, at Centenary, Greensboro .

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Last modified: July 31, 2009