Mama and Daddy didn't see “eye-to-eye” on Sunday's activities. Momma believed one should be in the House of God and if services continued all day long, so be it! Daddy believed it was balm for the soul to stroll quietly through the woods, enjoying God's own creations. Of course, his gun and dogs would be there also. To hear him describe the peace and serenity he felt, as he paused under a massive oak and gazed upward at its massive canopy made on know he was communing with God. He must have wondered just how many years had passed since it had been a tiny acorn. He had to stop and listen to the breeze blowing softly through the pines, as though there were secrets being whispered. The solitude might be broken by the chattering of a squirrel, scolding a blue jay for invading his territory.

Well, Mama had different ideas. She was determined to save Daddy's soul by having him walk with us two and a half miles to Old Salem every Sunday morning. She described in detail just how he would “burn in Hell” if he didn't. It wasn't long before Daddy, the “forerunner of the Dog Whisperer” devised a plan. His two dogs wanted to go to church also, so Daddy had to chain them up. This worked for a short time. But one Sunday morning, Daddy kept looking back over his shoulder. Mama didn't notice. She was leading the pack, determined not to be late. I asked him why he kept looking back, but got no answer. I looked back and observed two small, dark blobs following, but not too closely. Shortly, Daddy announced, “I see my dogs. They must have gotten loose! I'll hurry and take them back and come on soon.”

Mama knew she had lost that time. We stayed all day in Old Salem, then ate dinner with Aunt Laura and Uncle Leonard. After the evening services we hiked back home. There was Daddy, sitting on the porch smoking his pipe, at peace with himself, but not Mama. Oh the tale that he did weave! Every time he reached for the dogs to tie them up, they ran just out of reach. They drew him deeper and deeper into the woods. At last he realized it was too late for church, so taking his gun, he went squirrel hunting.

This trick worked several times. One Sunday morning we all started out for Salem. About 500 yards down the road Mama stopped and told us to go on, she had forgotten the church's money (she was the treasurer). Daddy looked stricken! Mama caught up with us shortly. Daddy continued looking back to no avail. My Sunday school teacher was sick and they asked Daddy to teach our class. He tried to refuse, but finally agreed. Evidently he felt good about doing it because he continued being our teacher for quite some time. Years later Mama confessed to me she didn't forget the church money. She re-tied the dogs.