by D M Barrett
“What about the obedience part, Sister Rosie?” the preacher asked.
“Looks like the Lord already took care of that about three months ago,” she replied.
“We will give the Lord a little time and let him work on this, Rosie,” the preacher encouraged.
“My mother used to quote a verse where the Lord asked, ‘Is there anything too hard for me?’” she said tearfully.
“Amen,” said the preacher loudly.
“Before I leave, I need a little tree cutting work done late this afternoon. Do you know anyone that might be available?” the preacher asked.
“I’ll track down Leon Kyle and John Norris. They are both mostly out of work. Leon used to work at Lawrence Sawmill and John was a handyman there. Just hang around the grocery and I’ll see that they get there after lunch today,” Miss Rosie promised.
“That sounds great. I’ll see you tomorrow,” the preacher said.
“What’s happening tomorrow?” she asked with a puzzled look.
“I’m having a few guests over for dinner at Rosie’s tomorrow night. Here’s $20 for a down payment,” he said.
“How many are you bringing, preacher? That’s quite a bit of money,” she asked.
“About 40 or 50 I reckon, but make sure there are clean sheets on the beds. They’re headed to Knoxville and they may want to spend the night,” the preacher instructed.
The two said their goodbyes and the preacher headed for Discount Grocery.
* * *
The preacher’s next stop was to see George Hickman at the Harriman Bank. He intended to get Miss Rosie some time before the foreclosure.
Harriman Bank was housed in a small red brick building near the center of town across and slightly right of Discount Grocery. The two front windows and the double wooden front doors were covered with bars. There was a steel door in the back.
Inside the bank was a couch, a wing back chair, two black leather captain chairs, a wooden desk and leather desk chair. Behind and to the right of the furniture was a metal bar teller’s cage.
The bank was staffed by the banker and Drusilla, his daughter. She served as a teller/cashier for the bank.
George Hickman was a short rotund fiftyish gentleman clad in dress pants, white shirt, bow tie, and a visor. He kept an unlit cigar in his mouth which he only chewed but never lit.
The preacher walked in and introduced himself. George Hickman acknowledged his presence.
“How can I help you, preacher?” Mr. Hickman asked.
“Brother Hickman, I am here to plead for grace on Miss Rosie’s loan,” the preacher said.
“Preacher, you are in the grace business. I am not. Her property has been advertised in the Cookeville Daily News Journal for three consecutive weeks. It will be sold on the Putnam County Courthouse steps next Wednesday. To quote from your vernacular: ‘Judgment Day is here,’” the banker explained.
“Mr. Hickman, I’ll be back Monday with at least $500 for that note and the balance before the sale on Wednesday afternoon,” the preacher said.
“I find that hard to believe, preacher. How can you say that?” Mr. Hickman inquired.
“I got it from a very reliable source that has very significant financial resources. Good day, Mr. Hickman,” the preacher said bluntly.
“Come again,” the banker replied with a chuckle.
When he arrived at Discount Grocery, the preacher opted for a ham sandwich and baked beans with weenies. While Jack Wright prepared his lunch, the preacher started an inquiry.
“Isn’t there a train that comes through here once a day, Jack?” he asked.
“Yeah, the Tennessee Central runs the Mountain Express from Nashville to Knoxville and then it returns to Nashville the next morning. It passes about 4:00 pm. You have to buy a ticket in Knoxville or Nashville. It doesn’t stop here,” Jack explained.
While he is finishing his lunch, Leon Kyle and John Norris enter the store and introduce themselves. They explain that they were dispatched by Miss Rosie.
“Jack, make these fellows some lunch. We're going to have some hard work this afternoon,” the preacher instructed.
After they had eaten, the preacher took Leon and John to a spot about 300 feet past Miss Rosie’s place toward Knoxville and gave the men instructions. They fixed their eyes on him and listened intently.
“See those three trees right there? There’s that one on the left and the two on the right,” the preacher asked.
Both men replied in unison, “Yes.”
“There’s a storm coming through this evening and we can’t have them either falling on or wrecking the train,” the preacher said sternly.
Leon and John nodded affirmatively.
“Now, I want you to drop those three trees, clean away the branches, and move the trunks today,” the preacher directed.
Leon said, “We can definitely drop them and do some clearing. But we may not get the trunks moved in time for the train to pass.”
“Well, we will just get the railroad folks to help. Better safe than sorry,” John Norris remarked.
“Let’s get to it. We’re burning daylight,” the preacher said.
At about 3:30 pm a light rain shower began, and it started lightening. The preacher directed the two men to stop and instructed them to be back at the store at 8:00 am the following day.
The men cleared the branches and removed one tree trunk by 3:30 pm. However, it would be at least another half day’s work before the tracks were cleared.
The preacher said, “You men go down to the clearing across the highway in front of Miss Rosie’s. I’ll go flag down the train and give them the bad news.”
Near the railroad tracks across from the Discount Grocery, the preacher positioned himself. When he saw the Mountain Express about a half-mile away, he began frantically waving his arms. The train stopped a few hundred feet from him. The engineer exited the locomotive and walked toward the preacher.
“Preacher are you trying to get an express trip to heaven on this train?” he inquired.
The preacher replied, “It came a little thunder shower earlier today and now there’re two trees across the track about a mile up the road. Two locals removed one tree and some branches to prevent an accident; but, it’s gonna take a while to get the other two.”
“What do you suggest?” the engineer asked.
“Pull the train down to the clearing that’s across from the big mansion and stop. We’ll talk to the two men and you can check out the situation,” the preacher instructed.
“That’s a great idea. Ride with me,” the engineer said.
Upon arrival at the designated spot, the engineer and the conductor got similar information from Leon Kyle and John Norris. The preacher and the two railroad men walked down the track until they could see the trees.
“This is a mess, preacher. Do you have any ideas?’ the conductor queried.
“Now, I’m not in the railroad business, mind you. But you can let your folks off down at that mansion. It’s Miss Rosie’s Bed and Breakfast. They can rest, relax and get some food there. You can call the Knoxville Station for instructions,” the preacher said.
“Now that’s a great idea, preacher,” the engineer said nodding affirmatively.
The trio got the 50 passengers off the train and into Miss Rosie’s while her girls started making food and serving blackberry communion wine.
The conductor used Miss Rosie’s phone to contact the Knoxville Station and explain the dilemma. He also explained the preacher’s assistance in the emergency.
“Here, the station master wants to talk to you,” he said while handing the preacher the phone receiver.
“Preacher, we’re in a pickle with this thing. What can we do?” the station master asked.
“Well, I’m not in the railroad business, you see. But they look pretty happy here. Maybe you can overnight them here till mid-morning. She has twelve private bedrooms and plenty of other space, too.” the preacher said timidly.
“How much per person do you think it’d be?” he asked.
“I think you could get it done for about $5 per day,” the preacher said.
“Damn, that’s high dollar, preacher,” the station master exclaimed.
“Don’t forget that there’s an all-you-can-eat meal included in that price for your 53 passengers and crew,” the preacher explained.
“Well, I guess that the Tennessee Central can afford $250 for avoiding disaster,” the station master said.
“Actually, its $530,” the preacher said.
“How in the hell can it be $530?” the perplexed station master asked.
“Sir, there’s 53 passengers for two days. Check out is 7:30 am. Another day and another meal will be needed by the time the tracks are cleared at around 11:00 am,” the preacher explained.
“You’re just too good to me, preacher. How do I get the money to Miss Rosie?” the station asked somewhat sarcastically.
“Make it out to Rosie’s Bed and Breakfast. Hold that check and we’ll get it picked up tomorrow afternoon,” the preacher instructed.
“I’ll write it immediately, preacher. You see that my passengers and personnel are taken care of,” the station master said.
“Sir, one more thing,” the preacher said.
“Is this going to cost me more money?” the station master asked.
“Actually, don’t worry about the cost of clearing the tracks. The two men work for Miss Rosie, the preacher said.
“I’m beginning to think that you work for her too, preacher,” the stationmaster opined.
“I’m just doing the Lord’s work, the preacher said as he handed the phone back to the conductor.
* * *
The next morning the preacher was on hand for the final clearing of the railroad tracks by Leon and John. Their work received high marks from both the engineer and the conductor.
“I need a favor,” the preacher said to the engineer.
“Name it preacher. We’re in your debt,” the engineer replied.
“I want to ride this train to the Knoxville Station with you. I have a little business to transact with the station master,” the preacher explained.
“Grab your valise. We are leaving at 11:00 am. You’ve got 20 minutes,” the conductor replied.
The train snaked its way from the lower end of the Cumberland Plateau until it arrived at the edge of the Appalachian Mountains in Knoxville. It passed through tall trees, green foliage, and rocky hills.
It was late spring, and the eastern redbuds were in full color. There were some snow-white dogwood trees and wildflowers mixed into the colorful mountain bouquet.
The train pulled into Knoxville just after lunch time. It was greeted by the station master himself. The passengers swarmed the station master to report the kind and hospitable treatment they had received in Ferguson. There was significant appreciation as to how he had handled the emergency.
As the crowd began to clear, the preacher stepped out of the locomotive and was joined by the conductor. They walked toward the station master who was displaying a puzzled look.
“You must be the preacher man,” the station master said.
“Indeed,” the preacher replied.
With a smile the station master inquired, “Well how much is this visit going to cost me?”
“Actually,” replied the preacher, “This visit is going to make you money.”
“You mean you’re going to pay a fare for hopping my train?” the station master said with a smile.
“Even better,” the preacher replied.
The station master, the conductor, and the preacher proceeded into the station directly to the station office. The station master wondered what the preacher had up his sleeve this time. The station master seated himself in his chair behind his large wooden desk and invited the other two men to be seated, also.
“Pardon my manners, preacher. I’m Charles Paschal,” he said.
“I’m Thomas Preacher Mann,” the preacher replied.
“Explain how you’re going to make Tennessee Central money. So far, you’ve done a good job relieving us of money,” Mr. Paschal said with a chuckle.
“After our situation last night, I think you should make a stop at Ferguson and run two trains a day. You could sell a ticket for Nashville to Ferguson to Knoxville and then from Knoxville to Ferguson to Nashville, and . . .,”
The station master interrupted the preacher. “Pardon me preacher, but why in the hell would anyone want to stop in Ferguson?” the station master asked bluntly.
“Mr. Paschal, your passengers swarmed you about their treatment at Miss Rosie’s and they gave you all the credit. It is really a scenic area, with a stellar hotel, with a bank, a discount grocery, and a soon-to-be mercantile and dry goods store. We are in the process of opening a local music show for nightly entertainment,” as the preacher took a breath, the station master began to speak.
“I’m still listening, but I want you to get to the part about the Tennessee Central making more money,” Mr. Paschal said.
“Here’s the bottom line: First you go from the Mountain Express to the Mountain Excursion and provide two trips daily instead of one. Second, you will pick up more passengers by having a stop closer to Cookeville and Crossville, that is about 20 miles from each instead of almost a hundred miles to each town.
Finally, you can use Miss Rosie’s or Jack Wright’s Discount Grocery as a ticket agent to sell tickets for Ferguson to Nashville or Ferguson to Knoxville. It would give you a lot of traffic from the surrounding rural counties,” the preacher said.
“Okay, what’s your angle preacher?” Mr. Paschal asked.
“We need the Mountain Excursion to leave Nashville at 9:00 am and stop in Ferguson for lunch from 11:00 am to 1:30 pm and arrive in Knoxville at 4:00 pm. It will leave for Ferguson at 4:30 and arrive at 5:30 due to the time change from eastern time to central time plus the faster trip is on the downgrade. The Mountain Excursion will leave Ferguson at 7:00 pm and arrive at Nashville at 9:00 pm,” the preacher explained.
“It is obvious that you want our passengers to take a mid-day or evening meal at Rosie’s Bed and Breakfast, occasionally take a short trip from Nashville or Knoxville to Ferguson and enjoy its hospitality, and, to spend money at its places of business,” Mr. Paschal said.
“Can you hear that?” the preacher asked.
“Hear what?” the station master inquired.
“It’s the cash registers ringing at the Tennessee Central’s stations,” the preacher said with a gleam in his eyes.
“I’m in. But we’ve got one problem. We don’t have a simple platform or whistle stop in Ferguson. It’ll take two months to get a crew there to construct one,” he responded.
“Give me the plans and a week. I’ll get it built,” the preacher promised.
“Are you a carpenter, too?” Mr. Paschal queried.
“No, but my boss is one,” the preacher said with a smile.
“Anything else?” the station master asked.
“You need to send the conductor back with me today to work out a deal with Jack Wright to sell tickets and Miss Rosie Hatton to provide free meals for your crew and “Mountain Excursion” discount getaway packages,” the preacher said.
“Are you suggesting that we deadhead a train from Knoxville to Nashville today to drop you off at Ferguson?” the station master said with incredulity.
“Certainly not! I’m suggesting that you deadhead a locomotive so it can stop in Ferguson with paperwork for Jack Wright and Miss Rosie to execute. Also, the engineer can approve the site for the platform,” the preacher retorted.
“I suppose you’ll be riding back to help out,” the station master said dryly.
“Indeed,” the preacher replied, and then stood and added, “the Lord always provides.”
“Well, you’ve earned your fare, preacher, you’ve earned your fare,” the station master said as they walked to the door.
2: A Sawmill Town
I
t was a sunny Monday morning and the preacher was waiting on Jack Wright to arrive and open the discount grocery. As he sat on the front steps of the store, a thirty-something John Norris, clad in faded overalls and a thread bare work shirt, arrived hoping to buy a gallon of lamp oil (i.e., kerosene).
“Is Mr. Jack here?” the man inquired.
“Not yet,” said the preacher, “but soon.”
“Well, I’ll just sit here and wait with you if that’s okay,” he said.
“That will be fine,” the preacher replied.
“Preacher, do you talk to folks about problems?” the young man asked.
“More than you can imagine,” the preacher said with a smile and continued, “What’s on your mind?”
“My wife has a problem with me since I lost my job during these hard times,” he said.
“Since 1930 there have been millions of job losses. Papers say that there’s a 25 percent unemployment rate in this country,” the preacher noted.
“I’d like to bring my wife early this afternoon to see you and talk,” he stated.
“What do you expect her to tell me?” the preacher inquired.
“She’s going to say that I haven’t looked hard enough for a job, that I never listen to her, that I’ve been drinking, and, that’s she’s suffering and it’s my fault,” John Norris said.
“Is that all?” the preacher said with a grin, “I thought it might have been something more sinister.”
“Well, those two dollars apiece that me and Leon Kyle got for that tree job really helped,” he reported.
About that time, Jack Evans arrived at the store and John Norris asked about buying a gallon of kerosene. It was ten cents, but Norris couldn’t find his dime.
“Here’s a dime for the kerosene, Mr. Wright,” the preacher interjected.
“Keep your dime, preacher. John can put that split stack of firewood on the porch and we’ll be even,” the proprietor said.
“How much will you charge me for a full rick of that wood?” the preacher asked.
“Nothing, I’ll make it a donation for the church,” Jack said.
The preacher turned toward John Norris and said, “Here’s a dollar. When you finish working for Mr. Wright, I need you to carry that rick across the road and stack it on the back porch of the church.”