You used to

see them every summer back in the '40s and early '50s. Huge brown tents

would pop up all over the town during July and August. Echoes of fiery

sermons, full of hell-fire and brimstone, and jubilant singing could be

heard coming from every corner of town. It was revival time and whether

you held it outdoors in a tent or indoors with the church doors wide open,

it was a wonderful time for everybody. A week of shoutin', singin' and

salvation a whole week of it. Just imagine!

I spent a lot

of time with my aunt back then. I guess I was about nine or ten. Her daughter

and I were only a year apart in age and we were more like sisters than

cousins. They lived in the heart of downtown East Point half a block from

Main Street and the railroad tracks, one block from the huge stone Baptist

church, two blocks from Carmichael's Funeral Home, a block and a half

from the Fairfax Theater, and within minutes of just about anything else

in East Point. My family lived way out off of Connally Drive, in an area

which then was considered the "burbs," I suppose, and we were

a long way from the real "action." Summers were grand because

there was no school and I could stay with my cousin as long as they could

stand me.

The evangelists

would pitch a tent that you could see from across the tracks. It probably

was on Central Avenue or thereabouts (the street that started at Cleveland

and went between the railroad tracks all the way to Hapeville and beyond),

and, oh! The singing that went on under that tent! We used to sit in the

back yard in the evenings and listen to that joyful music.

I also looked

forward to the week-long revivals at my own church, East Point First Methodist.

Some good singin' and preachin' went on there too. Everybody came grandmas,

grandpas, moms, dads, aunts, uncles and kids. It was sort of a novelty

to go to church every night during the summertime. And what kid didn't

love an excuse to stay up past bedtime?

Even at that

young age, the feeling I got during those revivals was almost electrifying.

Made you feel good all over. The hymns and the feeling stuck in my head

and my heart for weeks. (You can tell I really liked the music, huh? Still

do.)

Today? You're

lucky to get revived for two days.

So, what happened?

I have no idea. Maybe people today are too busy to go to church more than

a couple of nights outside the regular schedule. Maybe other activities

take up too much time. Maybe churches can't afford them. Whatever happened,

it's really sad that folks today are missing out on that special time

of yesterday.

But wait! You

have another chance! Inman United Methodist has "revived" the

"revival" and is offering four whole evenings of good old-fashioned,

camp-meeting-style singing and preaching. They're even having it outdoors

(we shall all pray that it doesn't rain) at the Minter Farm farther on

down Hillsbridge Road from the church. They've indicated there will be

a lot of special music. Hey! If they sing "Dwelling in Beulah Land"

just one time, they've got me hooked.

There's a story

in this paper about it and you can also call the church and find out more

(770-461-2123). It starts this Sunday. Sounds like something you don't

want to miss.

Maybe I'll

see you there?

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