Wednesday, January 31, 2024

THE ELEVATOR SHAFT AT EMMANUEL BAPTIST CHURCH

 You know, when little boys are growing up, they can get into all sorts of messes, sometimes without intention.  Sometimes totally on purpose.  This is a lesson on how not to follow the crowd which I didn’t do then.

 I grew up in Emmanuel Baptist Church in Alexandria, Louisiana.  I really cannot recall a time, even into adulthood, when I wasn't involved week to week at that church.  Our whole life revolved around Sundays and Wednesdays there. I had no problems with that.  It was a wonderful life.

 This is a story of a Sunday school class that overlooked an old elevator shaft when I was twelve years old.  An all-boys class.  We were on the second floor of the old building that used to be the sanctuary. It was renovated as an educational building when the new church sanctuary was built on the corner property in 1950.  I was seven. The old sanctuary section was divided into more classrooms for children and the balcony area became extra classrooms for teenagers. The adults had classrooms downstairs.

 When the building was the sanctuary, it had a two-person elevator that went to the balcony. I was told it was built for Mary Calderwood Bolton who had trouble with stairs.  What I most remember, however, was that the Boltons sat on that balcony in rocking chairs on Sunday mornings, after all, they were founding members of Emmanuel.  I also remember going up there when I was six, with a friend, on a Wednesday and rocking in those chairs out of curiosity even though I had been told I should never go to the balcony and sit in those chairs. It was a scary adventure because I was afraid, I might be caught. This was the sanctuary I remembered until 1950 with the beautiful yellow stained glass around the top above the balcony which brought in such a glow to the whole room when the sun was shining. Even as a young child it was ethereal.  During the renovation the elevator was removed, and the empty shaft was left.

 When I was twelve, we were promoted to a new Sunday school room on the second floor. At the back was a window that blocked the shaft. We could look down to the first floor from that window. It was fascinating to twelve-year-old curious boys since inside the shaft was a wooden ladder. We had trouble listening to lessons because our minds wandered and dreamed of being able to explore the bottom of that shaft. During the 1950’s in Sunday school we had an offering envelope with sections to mark like attendance, on time, Bible brought, offering, prepared lesson, preacher attendance. And a place to write our names and the amount we gave each week. Our teacher, Bob Belk, would check these and mark them before leaving us alone while he turned the envelopes in to the secretary down the hall.

 This is when we elbowed each other to get a better look at that forbidden shaft while one was “elected” to stand guard for his return. It was also when we realized that the window was held shut with three or four screws.

 One Sunday we had the bright idea that someone should bring a screwdriver to class so we could loosen the screws when Mr. Belk left the room. Names escape me, but one of us (I’ll just call him Jim) said he could get his daddy’s screwdriver that he kept in his workroom off their garage without his daddy knowing it. He was elected and the next Sunday was to be our escape. The following Sunday we waited in anticipation with silence and sweaty hands.  We made sure Jim set in front of the window. When Mr. Belk left the room, we made a dash to watch him undo the screws, but he was only able to remove one. So, week by week we carefully removed a screw each week, fearful we would be caught.

 The final day arrived; Mr. Belk left the room to turn in our envelopes. We forced the window open, and all climbed down that ladder to the bottom of the shaft closing the window behind us. Our teacher returned to an empty room. He never thought to look down the shaft but I’m sure he searched around the larger meeting room and asked the secretary.  We were scared when we heard the bell ring to end Sunday school because we weren’t sure how we would be able to get ourselves out without being caught. We waited until we were sure church had started before we escaped.  We snuck into the balcony thinking we would be fine.

 Well, we weren’t.  All of our parents had been contacted by Mr. Belk before church started, and one of them saw us sneak up to the balcony. We had a group meeting that Sunday immediately after church with all our parents and the preacher who chastised us severely about our sins and the dangers that could have happened. Our parents let us know how frightened and embarrassed they were, and we were punished.

 Our Sunday school class was moved to a different room after that and our old one was given to the girls. I don’t know who put the screws back on the window, I never went back to check. Lesson learned. Carry on.

© Nippy Blair 2015. Posts and pictures on this blog cannot be copied, downloaded, printed, or used without the permission of the blog owner, Nippy Blair.

2 comments:

  1. Leaves my mouth watering! I will leave the nutria, though, for you! Della Barbee

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  2. I always love hearing about earlier times at Emmanuel. This is another treasure!

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