[or-roots] Juker,Dull,Powell,Thompson (aunt Charlotte's Jab Powell)

[DAVIESW739 at aol.com]

I remember attending a Meeting held on the banks of the Yamhill river. Off to 
one side of the grounds was a half dozen camps, they were quite apart from 
the rest and nobody went there. We children were told not to go near that part 
of the camp grounds. We were not told why, but we saw the older ones glance 
that way furtively and heads were shaken and mouths drawn down. Even the names of 
the family camped there was spoken with lowered voices. There was something 
terrible at that place, we children were all sure of that. We feared that it 
might be catching and we talked about it among ourselves and wondered and peeked 
whenever we had the chance.

  One night just as preaching had begun we heard a big commotion in the 
Clark's camp. "Glory to god." we heard, Then "Jesus is with us tonight, 
halleluiah." (Only they called it Hulli-u-jay).Little heads all along our row were picked 
up. We forgot that we were ladies and opened our mouths and stared. The 
"shouting" old ladies jumped up from the congregation and started toward the 
Clark's camp. "Mothers in Israel" they were called. some of them, I remember were 
very fat and each one seemed trying to reach the Clark's camp first. They were 
all excited and were hollering "Glory to god" and pounding each other. Someone 
had "gotten religion." a poor unfortunate, who had been shunned by everyone 
that was there and despised, had found her way to God, apparently without 
guidance. Good people can be so cruel sometimes. My Mother was deeply religious, but 
her religion was of a different kind. She was very dignified and quiet and 
she was always easy for anyone in trouble to go to.

  Joab Powell was at that Camp Meeting. He thought himself quite a singer, 
maybe he was. I thought so anyway. He had a big, big voice that fairly made the 
woods echo. One of his favorite songs was "I yield, I yield, I can hold out no 
more to the pleadings of Mercy etc." He sang through his nose and I thought 
he said: "ienal, ienal," etc. and I could not find out what it meant. He sang 
another that went something like this: "Escape for life, with horror then my 
vitals froze." I thought he said: "Scrape for life, with horror then my victuap 
forze." I sang it with him as loudly as I could till Mother heard me and made 
me stop.I remember going to one Camp Meeting. Uncle Abram Garrison was the 
preacher. In those days, preachers were nearly always very poor, few of them had 
even a home, though land was to be had for the staking of it, and material for 
a cabin grew on the land, itself. Everybody was willing and glad to come to a 
"house raising" and there would be a home quite as good as anyone else had. 
But most of the preachers traveled about from settlement to settlement and 
stayed wherever night overtook them. That was not true of Uncle Abram, he was a 
farmer and an unusually thrifty one.

  When he presided at the Camp Meeting, everybody knew that there would be 
plenty to eat, plenty for everyone and to spare. Aunt Peggy was a famous cook 
and could make the most of everything that she had. Like everyone else, they had 
nothing except what they grew themselves, but before Camp Meeting they would 
kill a beef and cook it in a big pit. Aunt Peggy would have head cheese and 
baked hams, and homemade cheese round and plump and yellow. They would spread 
the dinner out under the trees and Uncle Abram would hop upon a stump and call: 
"come, come, everyone and fill up the table." The Meeting would sometimes last 
for a week and Uncle Abram and Aunt Peggy saw to it that everyone had all 
that he could eat. Of course, those who had plenty, took their own, but nobody 
stayed away from Camp Meeting because their cupboards were bare. In fact, I 
would not be at all surprised, if that was not the reason that Uncle Abram's Camp 
Meetings were always so well attended. There were many bare cupboards in 
Oregon then.

Walt Davies
Cooper Hollow Farm
Monmouth, OR 97361
503 623-0460 
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