I want you to know that I do not like this church — I love it!

Maybe you have been told, as many others have, “Don’t talk about anybody in front of me because I am probably kin to them.”

And that may be right, because I am kin to the Smiths and the Courtneys and the Bushes and I am kind of proud of it. But I do want you to know that Bill Wall asked me to talk about the past and my ancestors and I am going to do that, but I want all of you to know that, coming to this church as I have, you are making a great contribution, too, with your diversity and making our church a much richer place.

As our marvelous choir sang on Consecration Sunday, In This Very Room, I was very touched and it made me think, this is what I want to use for my theme today.

In 1917 these church doors were opened. Floyd’s grandmother and grandfather, Mrs. Alice and Mr. Marshall Courtney, were in this very room and he was such a leader that I am sure he was on committees to get this church started. And his grandmother (I know this on authority) was President of the Women of the Church (as Floyd called it the Missionary Society) five different times.

She must have taken extra vitamins or something. She produced eleven children and they all grew up in this church. Five were girls and they were all music majors but one and she was totally tone deaf. And one that you probably knew of was my dear, sweet mother-in-law, Gertrude Courtney Blackwell, who was choir director in this church for twenty-seven years and her sister, Bitgwyn was almost like a twin, and those two had more fun together. They contributed a great deal to this church and the music program. I want you to know that I consider music a very important part of worship. Mother ‘Trude had a career of teaching singing and piano and she said that her career kept her from spoiling

ling her one and only child — that was Floyd that I got hold of. And when she tried to teach me in her home she knew that he was a distraction so she sent him away. I don’t think I had much potentiality anyway.

The Courtney’s hallmark was a sense of humor and I do want to tell you what I think are a few of the “funnies” that happened in this very room.

All of you who remember Mother ‘Trude remember that she had a great deal of volume in her voice and she could almost make these beams shake. One Sunday morning she was singing a solo at top volume and her dear, darling little boy was sitting toward the front and he dared to put his fingers in both ears. Now she said she never spanked him but you can be sure she gave him a tongue lashing.

And now I want to come back to the Smiths; we are not going to forget them. My mother and dad, Beth Bush and Herb Smith, grew up in county churches and when they married they moved to Lenoir and came to this church and raised their children here. They came about 1921 and my dad had two brothers, Marvin and Lloyd. Their children are in this church. Dad also had a sister, Bonnie Gilliland, who was a member. My mother had a sister, Berdie Bush Tolbert, who was also here. My mother and dad had three children, and you probably remember my older brother, Herbert, Jr. (I know Whitt does) and my brother Bob, and we were brought up in this church where my saintly mother was the superintendent of the Beginners’ Department for years and years. My cute, humorous dad, an automobile dealer that later sold his dealership to Rooster, and Rooster made it grow. At his funeral Doug Corriher said that he was a real “Southern Gentleman”, and that was true.

If one of us kids had been out partying on Saturday night and requested to sleep late, my dad would say, “You have danced the tune and you pay the piper.” Up we had to get and come on to church.

Now when my brother Bob had a son, Waitsel, who is here this morning, and I had a daughter, who is here this morning — Marsha — we decided we would have a duo-baptism. We had seen this in Chattanooga and I thought it was just real nice. The preacher would dip a carnation or flower into the baptismal font, sprinkle it on the child’s head and then give the mother the flower as a keepsake. My brother Bob would have no part of it — not a feminine flower on his son’s head — so that was scratched!

Floyd and I started off in diapers in the Cradle Roll and we were promoted to all of the classes together, as we were in the school, and then we both went to State Universities, not too far apart.

I’m going to get back to the marriage, here in this very room. That was fifty-three years ago after eight years of courtship. And after the service, Floyd said to the assisting minister, Reverend Bob Courtney, “Thank you, Cousin Bob.” And I said, “Thank you, Uncle Bob,” and this was a great uncle. At that point I decided I would never confuse my children by telling them how we are kin, and so I don’t think I have.

Floyd sang in this choir, and others, for sixty-five years. The Sunday that we joined the church in Miami, only one woman came up and spoke to us and she said, “Does either of you sing?” I pointed to Floyd and said, “He does,” so the next Sunday morning he started singing. But he loved singing.

And he went to see his mother every Sunday morning when she was in the nursing home in Morganton, after he visited his furniture customers all week.

One Sunday morning he said, “Mother, I need to get on back because I need to practice with the choir before the service, and she said, “Floyd, Jr., how did you ever get to be so loyal?”

And he said, “How could I be otherwise?” And he did continue to be loyal, didn’t he?

And then my daughter Courtney reminded me not long ago that the fifth generation, Tommy, was baptized in this church too. I had forgotten that. But we had had baptisms and we had had confirmations and marriages and funerals in this very room. It has meant a lot to me and it is quite a legacy that I have. I hope that all of us will carry it on and give it our very best.