If You're Gonna Play In a Gospel Band You Gotta Keep Your Toenails Trimmed

Dwight, Mitchell and myself drove down to Earle, SC in the Ford Escort station wagon that served as the company vehicle for WBSC, the radio station in Bennettsville, SC that Dwight Johnson owned and operated along with his son Mitchell. Today, however, the Escort was laden with a guitar, a bass guitar and the rhythm section for Julius Bunch and the Strings of Praise and we were zipping along SC 41 near Johnsonville and our cups were overflowing in anticipation of the upcoming gig at Highway Side Chapel. Julius had been down there all week, preaching revival and we went on Maundy Thursday to close out the week with four performances over the next four days culminating in what turned out to be the rowdiest finale I have ever witnessed in Gospel, Country, Bluegrass or Rock music ever. The finale is a tale in and of itself; this account is a strong lesson.

We arrived and entered the Church with guitar cases in one hand and suit bags in the other, and noted that although the trailer with our sound system and drums that was behind the truck that Julius drove appeared to be untouched, we should probably check the church first in the event the trailer had already been unloaded of the mighty sound system to support four strong singers and a wild, rowdy rhythm section that was more akin to The Rolling Stones and less to the stone that rolled away! Remarking snidely that the apparent weight on the tongue and the resultant angle between the truck frame and pavement was a strong indicator that the trailer was indeed burdened with weight, we shuffled in a 5/8 time up the steps and into the Church. Julius was an excellent trailer man, he knew to keep the weight forward on the trailer so that the tongue carried more than 65% of the total load for ease of towing.

We headed for a classroom to change, but not before dropping off suit bags and guitars and commencing the task of setting up the sixteen hundred watts of bridged Peavey CS 800 amps through a twenty four channel mixer with rack mounted gates, compression and all the processing power you never need and performing a quick soundcheck. Satisfied that the night would go flawlessly we knocked it off and went to change as the congregation started sprinkling in, eyes twinkling in shared anticipation. The static had moved to dynamic, and the electricity was crackling about the Sanctuary, manifesting itself in the staccato din of women and men engaging in the presence of Him. The Church had been primed with three nights of revival, courtesy of Julius and this crowd was ready to worship!

We ripped through the first five numbers before slowing down. Julius had Gary and LuWayne Butler of Maxton, NC up front with him, and along with Dwight they had an incredible four-part harmony that was perfectly suited for this audience and they were certainly showing their appreciation. Mitchell and I did use the Rolling Stones method of keeping time…it is the reason JB and the S of P chugged along in certain songs. Shhh, don’t tell anyone!

There was a flurry of activity at the end of “I Can’t Even Walk”. The double doors at the back of the Sanctuary flew open and two gentlemen raced in, carrying a number ten galvanized steel washtub. They both had long white towels at their waists, cinched about their hips and appearing as curious horse tails. Following them was a third with a huge pitcher that had been purloined from the fellowship hall kitchen and had water sloshing out. They raced to the stage, dropped the tub behind the dais while giving shouts of praise. An old-fashioned “foot washing” was breaking out and we were caught by the humility.

As we cleared away, we were asked to join in the festivities and Dwight became visibly unnerved. He did his nervous little leg jitter while staring at his feet and Gary asked if everything was okay. Dwight confided, “Man, I haven’t cut my toenails in a while and I’m embarrassed. Nobody wants to see that.” Gary pursed his lips and blew…”Oh come on, Pa. No one cares about your toe nails. Kick off your shoes and get your blessing!”

Dwight reluctantly kicked off the beautiful Italian Leather loafers and since Dwight was sockless 98% of the time we were treated to a sight that, at first glance appeared to be broken Lays potato chips adorning the ends of his toes. Closer inspection revealed that his toenails were not only long, they looked sharp so everyone immediately backed away in the interest of safety. Gary jumped back and in his best Lumbee/Maxton dialect he shouted “Goshamighty Hon. Dem ain’t toenails, dem climbing gears. Put your shoes on before someone sees!”

Dwight missed out on a blessing that day, and since that occurrence we have learned that, like in Matthew chapter twenty three verses twenty five and twenty six we should strive to keep our cups clean. The fancy loafers are seen by the world, but there is one who sees your toenails. Be cautious and live your life like a Gospel musician. Keep your toenails trimmed, your cup clean and when your blessing shows up, accept it with grace.

Have a Rice Day!