Early on, I mentioned how faithful Zeke was about going to church on Sundays.  In

fact, Zeke followed our ' 60 Plymouth every time we went to church.  McDonald

Baptist Church was, and still is, the Norman Rockwell painting of what a rural church

in the South in the ' 50s and ' 60s should look like.  Furthermore, like most small

churches of that era, McDonald Baptist had no air-conditioning.  However, we could

afford a large attic fan.  With the attic fan on and the windows cracked about eight to

ten inches, a breeze would blow through with enough speed to make sitting on a hard,

wooden pew comfortable. If not comfortable, the breeze was at least not as miserable

as the summer heat of such blue collar jobs of painter, roofer, carpenter, telephone

repairman, mailman, and farmer, which covered the majority of the congregational

livelihoods.  In fact, only the major department stores and the First Baptist Church

had air-conditioning in the early ' 60s.  Not even the public schools had

air-conditioning.

 

On one of those hot summer nights, Zeke trotted behind the McDonald family as we

drove to Wednesday night prayer meeting.  Wednesday night services were very

informal and very relaxed, unlike Sundays.  The congregation was smaller on

Wednesdays.  In fact, Daddy even let Gary, Ken, and me sit on the back row on

Wednesdays.  On Sundays, we sat on the second pew from the front under Daddy's

armpit.  As only the faithful showed on Wednesdays, never-miss-a-service Zeke

would take his reserved spot on the front porch and wait for service end.

 

On Wednesday nights, the preacher engaged in Bible study with the congregation's

faithful few versus preaching the hell and brimstone sermons to the

never-come-on-Wednesdays backsliders in the congregation on Sundays.  On one

particular Wednesday night, to get the study group in the right state of mind, the

preacher opened up the service with congregational singing of  Rock Of Ages and The

Solid Rock.  With an introduction like that, what amen Bible-toting, Southern Baptist

Christian soldier couldn't guess that Peter, one of the Twelve Disciples, would be the

subject of Bible study.  Just as the preacher was hitting hard on Matthew 16:18 "And I

also say unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build ..." , shockingly

I felt something wet and warm on the back of my left hand as I sat on the end of the

back pew.  Lo and behold, it was Zeke!  Hallelujah, he scared the Devil out of me! 

Evidently, the last member in had not shut the front door.  The service stopped right

then and there as several of the church members chuckled out loud.

 

"We have a member who is a little late," the preacher quipped.

 

"Boys, get that dog out of here!" Daddy demanded from his front pew.

 

I grabbed Zeke by the collar and tugged.  When I did, he locked both front legs down

and did not move.  It made no difference whenever Ken and Gary grabbed Zeke as the

congregation was entertained by our futility.

 

"Guys, it's okay.  Zeke is welcome to stay, " the preacher said.  He reminded the

congregation how faithful Zeke had been.  "Every time the door opens, Zeke is here at

church.  Ditto for the McDonald family.  I only wish our other members were as

faithful as Zeke."  In typical Reverend Whitley wit, he had his daughter Sue play the

piano as he lead the congregation in singing the first and last verse of page 54 of The

Baptist Hymnal, Great Is Thy Faithfulness.  Zeke sat on the center aisle and listened

attentively.  In fact, Zeke perked his ears and scanned the worship center intently

every time the preacher said the word "rock."

 

Summertime at McDonald Baptist meant Vacation Bible School.  Zeke faithfully

followed Gary, Ken, and me as we rode our bicycles to VBS year after year.  One

morning, we had a German visitor; he came with Denny and Kevin.  Yeah, it was

Rock!  Rock weaved in and out of the line of church kids as we traditionally marched

in behind the Christian Flag and the American Flag to the piano playing of Onward

Christian Soldiers.  Rock saw the open front door as the door of safety and escape as

he hasten his pace.  "Don't let those dogs go into the church, boys!"  the teachers

instructed as we marched up the church steps.

 

In the only way Ken knew how to meet that demand, he yelled, "Sic 'em Zeke!"  Not

since Christ threw the moneychangers out of the temple described in Mark 11:15-17

has there ever been such a butt whipping in God's Holy House as Zeke took Rock

down on the front porch.   Rock lost his religion that day and never returned to

church.  After sweeping the front porch with Rock, Zeke rolled Rock down the steps. 

Rock hit the ground running with his tail between his legs and never looked back.  As

he disappeared, Gary, Ken, and I yelled to the top of our lungs, "Run Rock, run!" 

That day Zeke became bigger than life.  I am sure when families sat around the supper

table that night and Dad asked, "What did you learn today at Vacation Bible School?"  

Every child in the community told the story of Zeke, the mighty warrior.  It was a story

of the birth of "Rock and Roll" in McDonald Community: Zeke rocked that German

Sheppard's world and rolled him down the steps.  Zeke became a true Christian

soldier that day "marching as to war" against the evil ones in a heathen world.  That

day was one of many childhood memories of growing up in Rockingham, North

Carolina - a small textile town in the South in the ' 50s & ' 60s.

 

 

To be continued ...