The corner lot of East Main and Mofield streets in Livingston was once the location of First Baptist Church where my mother was a very faithful member and could be found in attendance just about every time the doors were opened. I remember several of the ministers who served that little church, but probably the most dynamic of those I recall was Clarence Stewart. I was saddened to learn of Bro. Stewart’s passing away on February 12, 2017 in White House, TN where he and his wife, Mary Lou, made their home for the past several years. Having grown up in First Baptist Church during the time Bro. Stewart and wife Mary Lou lived in Livingston, I was baptized by Bro. Stewart, and many years later, he performed my wedding ceremony. My first real job was working in the church office with Bro. Stewart. Mary Lou was in charge of an organization called Girl’s Auxiliary where young girls my age in weekly meetings often learned to memorize and recite entire chapters of the Bible. During the time of Bro. Stewart’s ministry at First Baptist, most who attended faithfully learned very early that he was a man who expected children to be respectful and to behave themselves, especially during the preaching service. A good example of how Bro. Stewart had an excellent way of getting everyone’s attention was on one Sunday morning, Harvey Bilbrey was called down right in the middle of a sermon because Harvey was making quite a disturbance with a quarter while sitting on a front pew of the church. Harvey had the bench he sat on all to himself, and more than likely he was bored, as most young children are while the preaching is going on. So he proceeded to roll a quarter down the bench, and when it reached the opposite end, Harvey would scoot down to that end and roll it back once more. Bro. Stewart tolerated this for a few minutes, and then stopped right in the middle of a sentence and said, “Harvey, are you listening?” Needless to say, that put a stop to rolling the quarter right quick. That phrase “Are you listening” was used on a very regular basis if Bro. Stewart detected attention was beginning to lag on anyone’s part, young or old.

A former minister, the late Henry Geiger broadcast his “Children’s Gospel Hour” from that little church during the 1950s. He always announced at the beginning of his broadcast that this program would be heard around the world, and we who were involved felt honored to have our voices going around the world while we sang several songs and then answered questions from Bro. Geiger’s Bible quiz. There are probably countless numbers today who, over the years, attended Geiger’s camp located just outside of Livingston off the Alpine highway.

As Harvey Bilbrey would surely agree, Bro. Stewart was very strict and wanted the children and young folks in his flock to always be on the very best behavior possible. He once took the youth of the church on a skating party to the old National Guard armory building in Cookeville, where, I’m sure what Bro. Stewart decided after we arrived, some “unsavory” teenage boys happened to be skating there on this same night as well. After we had been there a while, one of these roughnecks asked a girl in the Baptist group to skate, and as they proceeded out onto the floor, it took Bro. Stewart only a few minutes to come skating up behind them, break up the couple, telling the fellow that the members of his group could not skate with outsiders. The young man was heard to say to that girl a few rounds later, “Come back sometime when your preacher ain’t along.”

The carnival always came to Livingston during the summer months, and the caravan had to come right by the church to make the turn onto Windle Street to get to the fairgrounds that were once located on East Cedar Street. There were very few buildings that had air conditioning in the 1950s, and the church building was among those whose windows were always wide open in the summer months. The carnival folks during that period of time included what we called “gypsies”, and it was very hard to keep from hanging out the windows to watch as the carnival went by on those occasions. Sometimes, temptation got the best of us and we couldn’t resist trying to check out the carnival, in spite of the fact we knew more than likely we would get called down with Bro. Stewart’s favorite phrase, “Are you listening?” The carnival folks often had a hard time making the turn from the street right by the church onto Windle Street, since cars were parked on both sides for church services, and on those occasions when one of their trucks would get hung up trying to make the turn, we could get a good look at what the carnival was going to consist of that year. We always looked forward to those chances to get a preview of the carnival.

One of the things that a town church would do from time to time was let smaller churches out in the country make use of the baptismal pool. I remember such a time following a Sunday night service. There had been a revival in one of the churches out in the country, and Bro. Stewart was asked to baptize those who made professions of faith during the services. There was a girl with very long hair in the group to be baptized, who I would guess to be around my age, and following her immersion by Bro. Stewart, she shook her head quite vigorously, and as a result, water went everywhere, soaking the rest of what was dry on Bro. Stewart, the curtains of the baptistery, the floor, and just about everything close by. Needless to say, a lot of us young folks got in trouble that night since it was next to impossible to keep the laughter under control.

Bro. Stewart and Mary Lou were loved and highly respected by not only the members of the church they served, but by the entire community during the years they lived in Livingston. I doubt very seriously that any of those who attended First Baptist wouldn’t say that both Bro. and Mrs. Stewart left a lasting impression on each life they touched. They were both really good people and I’m so glad they were both a part of my young life. Looking back, it seems life was so simple and uncomplicated then. I’m thankful for the small-town life we had then, and especially for having good folks like the Stewarts whose influence helped to direct not only my life, but many others too in a very positive way.