A twenty-fifth anniversary celebration

Local church marks a quarter century!

That’s what the headline read above the photograph featuring the founding members from Ellwood City Assembly of God when it appeared in the Tuesday edition of the Ellwood City Ledger.

Along with the Rev. and Mrs. A. Reuben Hartwick, the black and white image pictured Albert J. Pogozelec, John and Alberta Swan and Margaret Taylor standing in the front of the sanctuary with a stained-glass window depicting Jesus knocking at the door in the background.

Underneath the framed snapshot, a bold letter caption noted they were part of the original congregation that planted roots in the mid-size industrial city north of Pittsburgh twenty-five years earlier with the construction of a Wayne Avenue church in the West End district on the opposite side of the Connoquenessing Creek.

It had only been two days since the faithful parishioners received a standing ovation from a packed house – a steadfast testament to the fruits of labor – lauding their unwavering dedication to become a beacon of light by reaching the community for Christ.

The anniversary celebration was a truly spectacular event!

With a freshly polished pair of wing-tipped shoes to complement the matching black slacks and a light blue button-down shirt, I was dressed to the nines while glancing at my reflection in the bathroom mirror to carefully secure a dark blue paisley clip-on tie which completed the stylish look for this budding gospel singing sensation.

You heard that right!

Not only were we celebrating a milestone for the church, but my musically gifted family was also making its debut as “The Price Family Singers” at the special service to honor the highly revered Pentecostal pioneers.

Of course, my vocal career was very short-lived, because it ended the moment I went through puberty that was a little less than six months away.

Unfortunately for me, Mom and Dad – who were oblivious to the changing tide – forced me to sing with our close-knit musical troupe long after my voice cracked.

Nevertheless, my stomach was full of butterflies at the end of the Sunday school hour when I climbed the basement steps with all the other elementary school-age children to join the adults in the sanctuary.

I was as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof!

Aside from being made a spectacle in front of the entire congregation, my greatest fear was tripping over my own two feet while walking up the side aisle with the rest of my siblings to join our parents at the Hammond organ which the dark-haired brunette played for the worship service; so, in an effort to avoid potential humiliation, I decided to sit with my little sisters on the front pew.

Since this mild-mannered sixth grader typically spent Sunday mornings in the underbelly of the giant edifice with all the other miniature-sized congregants, the twenty-fifth anniversary celebration was the very first time he had an opportunity to experience the boisterous hullabaloo going on above his head as the Holy Spirit descended upon God’s anointed.

From the angelic choir’s call to worship and the congregation’s response of rhythmic clapping mixed with shouts of joy, God’s presence shook the building to its foundation as many of the Spirit-filled believers began to speak in other tongues with their hands raised toward heaven while shedding tears of joy.

That was a tough act to follow, but follow it we did!

Immediately after the board of deacons began circulating the solid brass offering plates throughout the sanctuary, I gathered around the church organ with the kinfolk to belt out the words to “It’s A Happy Day” while attempting to focus my baby blues on the analog clock hanging from the balcony at the back of the large auditorium.

Singing along with the Happy Goodmans eight-track tape in the family station wagon was one thing, but performing before “a live studio audience” was quite another.

I was about ready to head for the hills!

Needless to say, this “Nervous Nellie” breathed a sigh of relief when he followed his big brother John to the last church pew on the left-hand side which was filled with a plethora of well-dressed teenagers; whereupon he landed on the lap of Dirk Arkwright after inadvertently stepping on his untied shoelace.

Considering this church pew isn’t for little kids, you need to put some wood underneath those hindquarters.

“Hardy har har,” I whispered flashing a mischievous grin upon sitting on the wooden bench between the Riverside Middle schooler and my lifelong roommate to retie my shoe. “If my shoestring hadn’t come undone all by itself, I wouldn’t have fallen on top of you just like at the roller-skating rink; but I must say that you’re a very soft cushion.”

“You’re an accident waiting to happen,” muttered the amiable adolescent wagging a finger into the air before readjusting the wide collar on his paisley dress shirt. “Since we’re having another spaghetti dinner after church, maybe I should take Ricky Honneffer’s advice and hang you by your tighty-whities on the back of the restroom stall door; so, you won’t be a danger to yourself or others.”

No way, Jose!

“Do I need to bring out the board of education,” queried David “Huck” Allen with a feigned look of disapproval splashed across his face as he attempted to sound like the adult in the room.

“Why don’t you go find Tom Sawyer and play tiddlywinks in the middle of the street with some manhole covers,” I snickered sticking out an elongated tongue while unintentionally nailing the dumbfounded eighth grader in the gonads.

You just elbowed me in the family jewels.

Oopsy!

The unexpected rumpus was timed perfectly with the reading of the church bulletin announcements by the blond-haired minister.

Shortly after the guest speaker began his fiery sermon, this blue-eyed brownie – unable to sleep the previous night due to the impending stage fright – curled up against his brother from another mother and fell asleep until he was awakened with a start at the end of the service.

Time to wake up Spaghetti Head!