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<DIV>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.</DIV>
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<DIV> 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.</DIV>
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<DIV> 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.</DIV>
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<DIV> 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.</DIV>
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<DIV><FONT lang=0 face=Arial size=2 FAMILY="SANSSERIF" PTSIZE="10">Walt Davies<BR>Cooper Hollow Farm<BR>Monmouth, OR 97361<BR>503 623-0460 </FONT></DIV></BODY></HTML>