I’ve been to many all day Fifth Sunday Sings with dinner on the grounds. My husband was a pastor & I was the pianist at a small north fFlorida country church (approximately 20-25 members). He was the first full time pastor this little church ever had. His salary was $25.00 a week & this was 1973.
Special Fifth Sunday offerings were taken during the day long event & donated to a children’s home & orphanage about 25 miles away.
After lunch when the singing really began the women were “praising the Lord” while the men, with full stomachs slept peacefully in the pews until “I’ll Fly Away” was sung at which time they all got elbowed by their Christian wives & abruptly rose to their feet. I mean who can sleep through a hand clapping chorus of “When I die hallelujah by and by I’ll Fly Away”.
Oh for simple love and happiness with family, friends, & our love for our Heavenly Father.
The church I grew up in is down to three, my mom and two friends of hers. they have a lay preacher, and his wife plays the piano. When they moved the public school out the town started dying. I miss the old days.
Sean, I believe if our great country all gathered on a fifth Sunday it could make a difference. The calendar shows 10/29 is the next fifth Sunday. What might happen if churches across America came together on that day to fellowship, pray, sing and worship together? It doesn’t matter what denomination, what matters is a desire for our country to turn back to God and to ask for healing for a society that is so broken and in shambles. God’s people need to lead the way. Seems to me that a fifth Sunday sing would be a great place to start. God bless you Sean.
Wow did you stir the memory pot with this one. Our “dinner on the ground” was always on long concrete tables outside and it never rained for some reason. My Granny always whispered to us which dishes to stay away from because of who fixed it. You always took extra big helpings from Momma’s or your Aunt’s dishes to make sure none was left. It was embarrassing if not enough people liked her dish enough that it wasn’t completely eaten.
The outhouses, that’s a story for another time. Suffice it to say it was an adventure to find someone occupying it while half a dozen boys tossed rocks on the tin roof! It helped the user along. God bless Morrison Crossroads Methodist in Alabama and all the small churches everywhere just like it.
Now Bryan! You have done gone and got me all tore up and to pieces with emotion, talking about outhouses! Stark fear is being a youngun' sitting on the seat, holding on for dear life, scared of falling in, or that a wasp of black widow spider would be lurking underneath the seat, waiting to crawl up and bite you on the butt. And you HAVEN'T LIVED unless you've looked up into the rafters of said outhouse, only to spy a White Oak Runner snake staring down you with a curious expression and flicking out its tongue. Billy Edd Wheeler told it right. Don't let em' tear it down; there's not another like it in the country or the town!
PEB - You Floridian - my 9-year-old son was invited to streak with the FSU cheerleaders, "Sammy" Seminole and the Squaws, April 1974. He got his picture in the Tallahassee Democrat, streaking up a light pole on Landis Green in front of the "liberry." (No, Mama didn't streak.)
No mam. Granny knew her food and neighbors. It didn’t take but a small sample of what she said to stay away from to know she was right! Where do you reckon most of the outhouse users came from?…..could have used Granny’s advice. Lol
I miss the old days. I swear, even as I sit here swiping my words on an iPhone google keyboard, I miss them. I cook a homemade meal everyday. Yes, some of us still exist. Truth is, I hate eating out. It’s not good anymore. Delivery is worse. I look at my disappointing meal and think of all the good chuck roasts and pork chops I could have bought for that $35 sad looking slop sitting in a styrofoam clamshell container. My recipe box is an overstuffed metal foot long card filling box. I get my daily exercise just lifting it out of the overhead cabinet. I still sew. I also mend torn trousers and replace missing buttons. Anyway, even though I have never heard of a Fifth Sunday, I appreciate this walk back in time. You can take me there anytime you want. I’ll bring some kick arse butter dipped biscuits and homemade strawberry rhubarb jam. <sigh> ❤️
Thanks for highlighting the good in church, I wish I’d had the experience of growing up in one. It’s made my walk all the dearer now though.
Home made is always better whatever it is. Brenda Gantt made a name for herself on FB giving instructions on homemade cooking during the lockdown. She is an absolute delight.
It pains my heart the way in which we live today; virtually. It eats away at precious time and creates so much waste. Not just the landfills because everything is done on the fly. But time we could have used to create lovely memories.
Maybe I didn’t have church but we ate home cooked meals every day gathered around a table. Much of the food we raised ourselves. We were never picky, we ate what was served (with relish) and were grateful for it. Food nourishes more than the physical body. I’m convinced of that.
We fixed what was broken and whatever was waste or extra found a new purpose. I thank God when and where He placed me. Time, perspective and forgiveness have a way of healing the bad. Treasured memories rise to the top like sweet cream.
When I was a kid, when the calendar came out the first of the year I would check and see how many fifth Sundays that year would be. I knew the preacher would do a little extra during the sermon and there would be a few extra songs but then we would eat. Don't get me wrong my mom was a great cook but so were the rest of the ladies. It meant when it was time to go home you could hardly move. My wife still cooks for reunions, funerals and family get togethers. Like you said about there is not much home cooking anymore. You can tell the store-bought pies, cookies and other stuff. My wife said, "you can make can beans taste special if you put out a little effort". I was at a reunion once and there was sweet tea and unsweetened tea. One of the ladies had a sugar bowl next to the sweet tea. I asked why and she just shook her head and said, "this store-bought sweet tea is not quite there." Which in layman's terms means it's not sweet enough. My wife always has a smile on her face when we leave those dinners because her dishes are always empty and that is like a trophy to her.
It was such a blessing to be at the Fifth Sunday Night Singing in Slocomb this past Sunday and get to see and hear you singing with your awesome music and precious stories. I even got one of your special "Big Hugs." God Bless you, Sean Dietrich!!!
In the small town of my early 1950s childhhood, preachin' was held in the Baptist church on the first and third Sundays and the Methodist church, right next door, on the second and fourth. There was no preachin' a tall on fifth Sundays, and we younguns took advantage. All the sooner to go ride the horse, scratch the piglets backs with corn cobs, chase the guinea fowl to hear their cries. Wire Grass artist, Jack Deloney painted a beautiful water color of Dinner on the Grounds. And, as an old dinosaur, turning 80 this month, I cook everything From Scratch, and my "Down Home Southern Baptist Revival Dinner on the Grounds Potato Salad" is always gobbled up early on at any gathering. And a perk of living in Dothan is heading down Hwy 52W to Mills Produce stand and picking up Slocumb tomatoes. Two of them are setting on my table right now, but won't last long. Again, Sean, thanks for the nostalgia trip.
You paintin a purty piture yourself Doc! You ain't old, you just "Mature." Get on up thar with Lori C., Roxanne, and Dolores. You all Givin Pone a run for his money today.
At almost 84, such memoirs of covered dish suppers as the were called at the Ensley Methodist church, are special indeed. Times were different, simpler for sure. People were different, not so stressed out, able to joke with each other about most anything. Didn’t take themselves too serious. And friends and families grew up and grew old together. And most churches or tent meetings held a revival once a year, usually for a week in the spring. I know those days are forever gone. But I sure miss them, and they will always be part of who I am.
It's still out thar Glenn. You just got to look harder to find it. Besides, Pone said dem 'piscopals never did do no tent revivals. I'm wid you all da way Bro!
I’ve never heard of Fifth Sundays, but they sound nice. My husband comes from a very large family. They were poor. His Mom was the best cook ever. Homemade chicken and noodles, dumplings, fried chicken, pies. What a feast. I’m still amazed at the stories he tells about their outhouse, wash house, running barefoot all summer. We don’t experience things like that these days. “Memories sweeten through the ages, just like wine.”
Thanks Sean for sharing another awesome article. I enjoy to learn more of old days habits and home made food stuff. It's very close to nature and very healthy indeed by all means.
Fifth Sunday Sings sound good. Dishes of food made from scratch, at least a few, big enough for everybody to share are so good. We have them on Wednesday evenings every week. Being Presbyterian, we do call them potluck dinners. They're mighty good. But those long comforting hugs you received, people holding you close and offering soothing prayers were the real providence that day. It’s good to have those hymns and hand rolled dumplings to remind you of being held back then, and held now, too.
Sean you do a fantastic job of capturing so many wonderful moments of the past. I enjoy the comments of the folks you inspire to share their personal memories. Reflecting on my own memories I thought well I have gotten old. Then I corrected myself and gave thanks for being so blessed to have lived those days sitting in the pew of Woodlawn Baptist Church.
Mom and dad sang in the choir, taught Sunday school and dad was a deacon. I remember sitting in church in August dressed in a suit fanning myself with a paper fan from the local funeral home. After stuffing ourselves on those Sunday spreads of delicious delightful food, my brother and I would run home, jump on our Stringray bikes and pedal to the AME Zion church where we sit on their steps and listen to some truly lively hymns. It’s comforting to know there are still folks in the South that appreciate those times when we were poor in earthly possessions but rich in spirit.
We still do the Fifth Sunday dinner! In the early days of our church it was called 'Victory Sunday' as the offering was used to retire the debt on the building. Every payment was a 'Victory'. I'm still recovering from last Sunday's meal! We don't do the singing but the meal is more than enough. Thanks Sean, it's encouraging to know that there are others that know what fellowship really means.
Good lick Sean ! I would have loved to have been there. I love the sings and the pot luck. The people that don't go to church have never been to one. Im gonna go find me a little church that still does this even if I haft drive to slocomb.
I'll pick up some tomatoes while I'm there. Its going to be a purty day.
I’ve been to many all day Fifth Sunday Sings with dinner on the grounds. My husband was a pastor & I was the pianist at a small north fFlorida country church (approximately 20-25 members). He was the first full time pastor this little church ever had. His salary was $25.00 a week & this was 1973.
Special Fifth Sunday offerings were taken during the day long event & donated to a children’s home & orphanage about 25 miles away.
After lunch when the singing really began the women were “praising the Lord” while the men, with full stomachs slept peacefully in the pews until “I’ll Fly Away” was sung at which time they all got elbowed by their Christian wives & abruptly rose to their feet. I mean who can sleep through a hand clapping chorus of “When I die hallelujah by and by I’ll Fly Away”.
Oh for simple love and happiness with family, friends, & our love for our Heavenly Father.
Okay everybody, let’s sing it again...
The church I grew up in is down to three, my mom and two friends of hers. they have a lay preacher, and his wife plays the piano. When they moved the public school out the town started dying. I miss the old days.
I'm singing with you!!
Me too!
Sean, I believe if our great country all gathered on a fifth Sunday it could make a difference. The calendar shows 10/29 is the next fifth Sunday. What might happen if churches across America came together on that day to fellowship, pray, sing and worship together? It doesn’t matter what denomination, what matters is a desire for our country to turn back to God and to ask for healing for a society that is so broken and in shambles. God’s people need to lead the way. Seems to me that a fifth Sunday sing would be a great place to start. God bless you Sean.
Roxanne
Very good idea. Let's promote it
Wow did you stir the memory pot with this one. Our “dinner on the ground” was always on long concrete tables outside and it never rained for some reason. My Granny always whispered to us which dishes to stay away from because of who fixed it. You always took extra big helpings from Momma’s or your Aunt’s dishes to make sure none was left. It was embarrassing if not enough people liked her dish enough that it wasn’t completely eaten.
The outhouses, that’s a story for another time. Suffice it to say it was an adventure to find someone occupying it while half a dozen boys tossed rocks on the tin roof! It helped the user along. God bless Morrison Crossroads Methodist in Alabama and all the small churches everywhere just like it.
Now Bryan! You have done gone and got me all tore up and to pieces with emotion, talking about outhouses! Stark fear is being a youngun' sitting on the seat, holding on for dear life, scared of falling in, or that a wasp of black widow spider would be lurking underneath the seat, waiting to crawl up and bite you on the butt. And you HAVEN'T LIVED unless you've looked up into the rafters of said outhouse, only to spy a White Oak Runner snake staring down you with a curious expression and flicking out its tongue. Billy Edd Wheeler told it right. Don't let em' tear it down; there's not another like it in the country or the town!
Doc, what about a old cotton mouth coming up from below? Dats where streakin was invented!
PEB
PEB - You Floridian - my 9-year-old son was invited to streak with the FSU cheerleaders, "Sammy" Seminole and the Squaws, April 1974. He got his picture in the Tallahassee Democrat, streaking up a light pole on Landis Green in front of the "liberry." (No, Mama didn't streak.)
Spiders and snakes - - and constipation!
I'm sorry, Bryan, but your Granny sounds like she was a troublemaker. Lol
Susie, the Lord heps them Dat heps themselfs!!
Pu
Amen, which is why we NEED to act on climate change....AND NOW!! Should have 30 yrs ago
🙄🙄🙄
Genesis 8:22 New International Version (NIV)
“As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease.”
....a gossip, dare I say?
No mam. Granny knew her food and neighbors. It didn’t take but a small sample of what she said to stay away from to know she was right! Where do you reckon most of the outhouse users came from?…..could have used Granny’s advice. Lol
Lol! 😂😂
I miss the old days. I swear, even as I sit here swiping my words on an iPhone google keyboard, I miss them. I cook a homemade meal everyday. Yes, some of us still exist. Truth is, I hate eating out. It’s not good anymore. Delivery is worse. I look at my disappointing meal and think of all the good chuck roasts and pork chops I could have bought for that $35 sad looking slop sitting in a styrofoam clamshell container. My recipe box is an overstuffed metal foot long card filling box. I get my daily exercise just lifting it out of the overhead cabinet. I still sew. I also mend torn trousers and replace missing buttons. Anyway, even though I have never heard of a Fifth Sunday, I appreciate this walk back in time. You can take me there anytime you want. I’ll bring some kick arse butter dipped biscuits and homemade strawberry rhubarb jam. <sigh> ❤️
"Precious mem'ries, how they linger,
How they ever flood my soul;
In the stillness of the midnight,
Precious, sacred scenes unfold"
Amen and Amen!!
Thanks for highlighting the good in church, I wish I’d had the experience of growing up in one. It’s made my walk all the dearer now though.
Home made is always better whatever it is. Brenda Gantt made a name for herself on FB giving instructions on homemade cooking during the lockdown. She is an absolute delight.
It pains my heart the way in which we live today; virtually. It eats away at precious time and creates so much waste. Not just the landfills because everything is done on the fly. But time we could have used to create lovely memories.
Maybe I didn’t have church but we ate home cooked meals every day gathered around a table. Much of the food we raised ourselves. We were never picky, we ate what was served (with relish) and were grateful for it. Food nourishes more than the physical body. I’m convinced of that.
We fixed what was broken and whatever was waste or extra found a new purpose. I thank God when and where He placed me. Time, perspective and forgiveness have a way of healing the bad. Treasured memories rise to the top like sweet cream.
When I was a kid, when the calendar came out the first of the year I would check and see how many fifth Sundays that year would be. I knew the preacher would do a little extra during the sermon and there would be a few extra songs but then we would eat. Don't get me wrong my mom was a great cook but so were the rest of the ladies. It meant when it was time to go home you could hardly move. My wife still cooks for reunions, funerals and family get togethers. Like you said about there is not much home cooking anymore. You can tell the store-bought pies, cookies and other stuff. My wife said, "you can make can beans taste special if you put out a little effort". I was at a reunion once and there was sweet tea and unsweetened tea. One of the ladies had a sugar bowl next to the sweet tea. I asked why and she just shook her head and said, "this store-bought sweet tea is not quite there." Which in layman's terms means it's not sweet enough. My wife always has a smile on her face when we leave those dinners because her dishes are always empty and that is like a trophy to her.
Paul M. It ain't bragging if she takes home empty pans ever time!
So true, Pu. No brag, just truth with proof!!
It was such a blessing to be at the Fifth Sunday Night Singing in Slocomb this past Sunday and get to see and hear you singing with your awesome music and precious stories. I even got one of your special "Big Hugs." God Bless you, Sean Dietrich!!!
Judith, you ain't related to Craig Coe in Dothan is ye?
Pubert
In the small town of my early 1950s childhhood, preachin' was held in the Baptist church on the first and third Sundays and the Methodist church, right next door, on the second and fourth. There was no preachin' a tall on fifth Sundays, and we younguns took advantage. All the sooner to go ride the horse, scratch the piglets backs with corn cobs, chase the guinea fowl to hear their cries. Wire Grass artist, Jack Deloney painted a beautiful water color of Dinner on the Grounds. And, as an old dinosaur, turning 80 this month, I cook everything From Scratch, and my "Down Home Southern Baptist Revival Dinner on the Grounds Potato Salad" is always gobbled up early on at any gathering. And a perk of living in Dothan is heading down Hwy 52W to Mills Produce stand and picking up Slocumb tomatoes. Two of them are setting on my table right now, but won't last long. Again, Sean, thanks for the nostalgia trip.
You paintin a purty piture yourself Doc! You ain't old, you just "Mature." Get on up thar with Lori C., Roxanne, and Dolores. You all Givin Pone a run for his money today.
Pu
Happy 80th birthday, Miss Fay.
At almost 84, such memoirs of covered dish suppers as the were called at the Ensley Methodist church, are special indeed. Times were different, simpler for sure. People were different, not so stressed out, able to joke with each other about most anything. Didn’t take themselves too serious. And friends and families grew up and grew old together. And most churches or tent meetings held a revival once a year, usually for a week in the spring. I know those days are forever gone. But I sure miss them, and they will always be part of who I am.
It's still out thar Glenn. You just got to look harder to find it. Besides, Pone said dem 'piscopals never did do no tent revivals. I'm wid you all da way Bro!
Pu
I’ve never heard of Fifth Sundays, but they sound nice. My husband comes from a very large family. They were poor. His Mom was the best cook ever. Homemade chicken and noodles, dumplings, fried chicken, pies. What a feast. I’m still amazed at the stories he tells about their outhouse, wash house, running barefoot all summer. We don’t experience things like that these days. “Memories sweeten through the ages, just like wine.”
Thanks Sean for sharing another awesome article. I enjoy to learn more of old days habits and home made food stuff. It's very close to nature and very healthy indeed by all means.
Lots of fat and lots of carbs, Nazem, but back then, they worked it off!!
I agree 👍
Fifth Sunday Sings sound good. Dishes of food made from scratch, at least a few, big enough for everybody to share are so good. We have them on Wednesday evenings every week. Being Presbyterian, we do call them potluck dinners. They're mighty good. But those long comforting hugs you received, people holding you close and offering soothing prayers were the real providence that day. It’s good to have those hymns and hand rolled dumplings to remind you of being held back then, and held now, too.
Sean you do a fantastic job of capturing so many wonderful moments of the past. I enjoy the comments of the folks you inspire to share their personal memories. Reflecting on my own memories I thought well I have gotten old. Then I corrected myself and gave thanks for being so blessed to have lived those days sitting in the pew of Woodlawn Baptist Church.
Mom and dad sang in the choir, taught Sunday school and dad was a deacon. I remember sitting in church in August dressed in a suit fanning myself with a paper fan from the local funeral home. After stuffing ourselves on those Sunday spreads of delicious delightful food, my brother and I would run home, jump on our Stringray bikes and pedal to the AME Zion church where we sit on their steps and listen to some truly lively hymns. It’s comforting to know there are still folks in the South that appreciate those times when we were poor in earthly possessions but rich in spirit.
We still do the Fifth Sunday dinner! In the early days of our church it was called 'Victory Sunday' as the offering was used to retire the debt on the building. Every payment was a 'Victory'. I'm still recovering from last Sunday's meal! We don't do the singing but the meal is more than enough. Thanks Sean, it's encouraging to know that there are others that know what fellowship really means.
Good lick Sean ! I would have loved to have been there. I love the sings and the pot luck. The people that don't go to church have never been to one. Im gonna go find me a little church that still does this even if I haft drive to slocomb.
I'll pick up some tomatoes while I'm there. Its going to be a purty day.
Peace