A Trip To Epworth

It was a bright, sunny Saturday in the early summer of 1977 when Rev Paul Smith loaded up the five of us boys in the UMC confirmation class at First United Methodist Church into his Buick station wagon and set out for Columbia, SC to visit Cokesbury Press and a stop for lunch and a tour of Epworth Children's Home. Our group consisted of the Odoms....Wally, Mark and Ashton, Robbie Newton and myself...and we were excited about making the journey to Columbia. Poor old Rev Smith had no clue about how rowdy we were. He had apparently not spoken with Mac Hartis, our Sunday School teacher or perhaps he had, and chose to haul us anyway. We had made Sunday mornings pretty miserable for Mac, as our favorite pastime was to fold paper airplanes and toss them into the ceiling fan in the classroom which seemed to upset him greatly. Twelve year old boys don't get into mischief....mischief finds twelve year olds!

We were humming happily along, laughing every time Rev Smith would let the right side of that Buick run off the road. He'd yank the wheel and exclaim "Whoa, Paul! Watch the road!"and we found it hilarious. I'm positive he was a wee bit distracted with that rowdy bunch he was hauling....twelve year old boys have an active imagination and we turned the Buick into a Boeing B-17 and we were busy fighting off Focke-Wulf FW-190s and the dreaded Messerschmitt BF-109s that were attacking us on our way to bomb the refineries at Ploiesti and halt Hitler's fuel supply lines. Man, the air was thick with "Jerries" when we reached the newly-built 277 interchange on I-20 and the "flyover" exit allowed us easy aim at our adversaries below us and we must have knocked thirty "planes" out of the sky on the overpass!

We finally arrived at the intersection of Bull Street and Gervais, hung a hard left and started our bombing run on the Ploiesti refinery that was at the intersection of Gervais and Millwood. "Captain" Smith then made an evasive maneuver to avoid flak by turning right onto Millwood and ran through a pothole, which to us was a hit by the AA gunners some 12,000 feet below us! Thankfully, "Captain" Smith was a good "pilot" and he made a perfect belly landing in a field that just happened to be adjacent to the Cokesbury press and although devoid of vegetation and topped with gravel he slid that B-17 to a stop beside a couple of huge Oak trees. We were a bit disappointed that we didn't have to "hit the silk" and bail out, but were glad to be alive!

Cokesbury wasn't very impressive to a bunch of twelve year old boys, but we reconnoitered the scene for intel and checked behind every bookshelf for hidden SS officers. Satisfied with the results of our commando sweep, we proceeded to mill about the room and begrudgingly listened to the OIC drone on about the history of Cokesbury and it's role in the United Methodist Church. We did learn that John Wesley was the impetus for Cokesbury, as he was dissatisfied with how Methodist literature and hymnals were distributed from a plethora of publishers and decided to source material from a single source, that source being Bishops Coke and Asbury.

The intel briefing came to an end and we marched over to Epworth for lunch, and a tour of the facility. As we queued up to enter the mess hall, we spied a group of kids that were staring holes in our little group. One girl who appeared to be 15 or 16 and was head and shoulders above the rest in stature seemed keenly interested in our little group, and stared holes in us with a scowl on her face. I could feel the disdain from twenty yards and I dared not make eye contact with her!

We shuffled in, and took our place at a long table that had been reserved for us, and I kind of/sort of understood the dagger stares that were cast upon us by the Epworth residents. We shrugged off the stares and took delight in the meal prepared that day...Cheeseburgers and fries! We dove in after the meal had been blessed by Rev Smith and immediately noticed something was different about the burgers. They weren't the all-beef patties that you got from Hardee's or your back-yard grill. In hindsight, they were mostly soy filler and some gristly beef. We soldiered on, as twelve year old boys don't care about fillers or preservatives. Twelve year old boys want to get full!

All during the meal, ole "Big Gal" continued her surveillance of our group and I kept an eye on her in between mouthfuls. I started thinking she just may have the "hots" for us as we were just beginning to express our attraction to girls......Not this time!

Ashton had taken a couple of bites when he said "Hey fellas, I don't think these are hamburgers. I think they are Owlburgers, made from the owls they catch in the attic!" We erupted in laughter and the residents of Epworth all turned to stare at us. We quietened down for a moment until Ashton started up again. He'd take a bite, then go "Hoot! Hoot!" with that goofy Ashton facial expression, eyes opened as wide as possible and mouth pursed into an "O"! We erupted in laughter once again, and ole "Big Gal" had seen and heard enough, and loudly proclaimed "Come over here and I'll give you something to laugh about, boy!"

Needless to say, we finished that meal in silence, and retreated from the dining hall keenly aware of our surroundings! We commenced the tour of the facility and fretfully followed Rev Smith, staying very close to him. I was convinced that we were going to be "shanked" by one of the residents! Fortunately that didn't happen and although "Big Gal" kept a close eye on us she kept her distance, but not without a few choice words that she uttered under her breath. I'm pretty sure she was the reason I was shy and awkward with girls after that!

We returned to the Buick "B-17" which had been repaired by a group of Romanian resistance fighters and fueled up, took our places in the Turret gun, Waist gunner and tail gunner positions and breathed a sigh of relief as "Captain" Smith advanced the throttles and lifted us off. He navigated us around all known Antiaircraft batteries and swung East onto I-20 and flew us all the way home with only a couple of encounters with German pilots, which we easily dispatched with a few bursts from the .50 caliber guns of the waist gunners. "Captain" Smith then informed us of the reason for the trip which was to show us how fortunate we were to have families, and to foster a sense of compassion for those less fortunate than us. We received his message loud and clear!

I've wondered whatever became of "Big Gal" for many years, along with the other residents of Epworth that fateful June day in 1977. I hope they all found a way in life, and if I could ever see her again I'd love to tell her the tale of our adventure. I learned a lot about myself that day....although I didn't grow up in the lap of luxury, I did grow up in a loving family and with a remarkably wonderful circle of friends, and that is the greatest gift of all! Matthew 5:16.....let your light shine!

Have a Rice day, y'all!