Big Creek Methodist Church
Neighborhood
Submitted by Jan Fish
janfish@gte.net
Madison Courier, January 1941
Cincinnati Woman Writes of Home in Government Ground
Miss Grace Thomas, 106 Wellington Place, Mt. Auburn, Cincinnati, Ohio,
whose home is in the proving ground area east of Marble Corner, writes
to the editor. She states that her home is known as “Oak Timbers” and
is loved by a large family.
The letter follows:
Dear Editor:
In your paper of January 9th there was a letter written by a resident of
St. Magdalen which I read with great interest. I also feel most reluctant
to leave my community. Because it is my home, I believe it to be the
most comely corner of this globe. It is a nook prepared for the special
benevolence of a sun more glorious than any other suns, winds more
tempered than other winds, and trees quite obviously more beautiful than
other trees.
Our church, the Big Creek Methodist, has stood undisturbed for more than a
hundred years. The architecture is quaint, somewhat of the Quaker meeting
house style. It is built of stone and still has the original floor, of
thick, wide, hewn planks. It has a lovely setting on a hill, with many
cedars and redbud trees around it and with the creek flowing at the foot of
the hill. In its cemetery are the graves of my mother, father and
grandparents.
Almost seventy-five years ago my father bought sixty acres of timber land
in Ripley County. He cleared a small lot, built a log house and there he
took my mother as a bride, to live. It was not a palatial home, but the
open fireplace with huge logs made a vast volume of heat and the snapping
wood and firelight seemed quite splendid. There was happiness and
contentment in this “little house by the side of the road.”
Somehow, memory carries me back over a period of sixty years, with peculiar
clearness, I recall an episode that occurred when I was still at the
toddling age. Quite suddenly I heard a loud, sharp and incomparable noise.
The Proving Ground will not give me any greater surprise than the small pack
of shooting crackers which my sisters were firing. It was Christmas and
among our Hoosier folk it was the custom at the Christmas season to
celebrate in that manner.
It would be wrong to say that my village, Marble Corner, appears as it did
a half a century ago. Far from it. At that time it was a business center. My
Uncle John Lockwood had great pride in being Postmaster. The people came
many miles to call for their mail. Across the road was the General Store,
with an owner who showed sincere interest in his customers. The whole
atmosphere was charged with good will and cheerfulness. A basket of eggs
might be traded for almost any reasonable want. On another corner was the
blacksmith shop. From early morning until dark one could hear Tom Adams
busy at his forge. Some short distance from the Corner lived Squire Bill
Thomas. When not occupied as a justice of the peace, he was at times
engaged in the business of making excellent sorghum.
In all directions the inhabitants lived contentedly and cultivated their
farms. The social life was most agreeable, there were quilting parties in
the homes, oyster suppers at the Odd Fellows Hall and spelling bees at
the school house. Sometimes there would be a dance, who can say the radio
was missed when little Christy Johnson brought his fiddle and played
“Turkey in the Straw.”
The lure of the outside world may have taken some of our neighbors, but
those who remain are still of the fibre of our ancestors, practical,
self-reliant and industrious people. I cannot be too grateful that I have
the treasured memory of them as a part of my heritage. Their history is
replete with pioneer courage. All patriotic Americans sanction what may be
necessary for national defense. This is why our people must move from
their home land to make way for the Proving Ground. Let us hope it may be
for progress toward an era when all governments will solve their problems
by some other means than war.
Grace Thomas
