An Informal, Anecdotal History of Saint Francis' Parish
as Told by Past and Present Members
It was Shrove Tuesday and the year was 1959. The church building was almost new and there were "Dr. Pepper green" sheets hung above the Altar Rail to close off the Altar. The Nave had been converted into a "Parish Hall" dining area and the Sacristy was doubling as the kitchen for the evening. I came, I saw, I liked, I stayed!
A number of the families who are still in the parish arrived on the scene in the early '60s. We grew to be a very close-knit family. We shared each other's joys, problems, achievements, etc. and every child there had a church-full of "aunts" and "uncles". We became known as St. Francisfolk and our rector was affectionately called, Padre.
Sundays were equally as picturesque as the special feast days. The children conducted their unspoken contest to see who could fold up in the folding chairs first, and also to see who could hammer out the best melody with their dime on the same metal chairs at offertory time. They occasionally wandered up to the altar to help Padre who was always very careful not to step on them! Coffee hours and St. Francis's one-of-a-kind wedding receptions were staged in the Narthex and on the East Porch (needless to say, most wedding dates were set for warm weather).
Some of the highlights that I remember from the '60s are:
Wednesday-night Lenten work parties -- Phyllis Lawson could paint a whole room while the rest of us were getting our brushes and rollers out!
The Saturday-Yard and Bishop's-Visit Clean-up Parties -- the only time that the bathrooms got scrubbed really clean. We (including all the children) worked all day, and laughed, and smoked, and ate, and drank beer. But we always got the job done. It must be noted that smoking and drinking were politically correct in those days.
The firing of the Altar Guild -- and the six new members whose children begged them to set up housekeeping at the church during Holy Week of that period of time when there were just six.
The cleansing of the temple -- otherwise known as the outlawing of bazaars and other fund-raising activities.
The need for a Parish Hall -- We had to have half of the money in hand and the other half pledged before we could build. The new building became a reality and we had a real kitchen.
Somewhere along in here (or in the early '70s) the driveway got paved. At last we could wear good shoes to church when it rained. And it was possible to conquer the dust on the floor in the church.
The '70s
The '70s were one of St. Francis's prime times. We were a little more affluent, the kids were a little older, and you could still afford and trust a babysitter. As a result, we had many social gatherings - some with children, some without.
St. Francis Day was traditionally a shrimp boil, until shrimp got too expensive to buy and we changed to a covered-dish dinner. Bill Bard and company cooked the shrimp outside in a huge pot, over an open fire.
The Christ Child Birthday Party, given by Dottie and Padre after the Midnight Mass at Christmas. Once or twice, it even snowed a little as we left to go home for our "two hours of sleep".
Shrove Tuesday also became a covered-dish affair (heavy on the desserts), followed by conversation and dancing.
Lenten Stations of the Cross -- in the early years, we put dinner in the oven, the kids in pajamas, went to Stations, then rushed back home to dinner and bedtime. It was an incredibly spiritual, family-bonding experience, year after year. The daily Holy Week services always capped off our Lenten preparation perfectly, so that Easter truly was our joyous "queen of feasts".
Padre's birthday and the anniversary of his ordination were in June, so we usually celebrated outdoors at someone's home. One year, Lois Holmberg and Nelia made a cake shaped like a biretta complete with a black-icing chrysanthemum for the pompom.
Soon after the Parish Hall was built, Nelia took Padre to Laredo to purchase Mexican-styled furniture for it. It rained most of the way down, we were almost unable to find hotel rooms in Nueva Laredo, and the generator went out in the car on the way home. All these omen should have foretold the problems getting the furniture to Dallas. Just ask Joe Jones or Jim Bell.
A house that was given to us was delivered to the back of the lot in two halves. Under Bill Bard's direction, the men descended upon the building to turn it into the Church School Building. I'd hate to try to count the beer cans sheetrocked inside those walls, but the transformation was fabulous.
There was an ice storm in '77 or '78. Many of us had no heat, so some moved to the Church School Building, with their dogs, cats, and birds, to wait out the return of power.
Bishops McCrea and Terwiliger were frequent guests at St. Francis, especially for her parties. It was an honor and a treat. They were both such good company.
During the mid to late '70s, St. Francis had a very active role in Cursillo. We'd average 70 to 90 people at our monthly welcome-home parties.
It appeared to me that the St. Francis mission was to teach and become a part of the orthodox remnant, since the national church was dividing down the middle.
During that time, we hired a Curate, Fr. James McGhee.
We were growing older, hiring more and more work done, and having fewer work parties.
The '80s
Padre died in October of 1980. Fr. McGhee became the new Rector.
The '80s presented some trying times for the parish. Our longtime, beloved Rector was gone. Our new Rector was sickly and had to have a kidney transplant, leaving him on lots of medication. The parish was divided into two camps: one for and one against the Rector.
We hired Fr. Samuel Edwards as a Curate. This was good for us, but maybe not so good for him.
The Parish Hall was expanded. That added a new dimension to St. Francis: that of host church to many functions. The Building Committee appointed Betty Andrus and Nelia Thorp to furnish the whole Parish Hall, including the kitchen.
Afterward
I moved to Denton in the early '90s. Most of all, I remember the people at St. Francis as my family. We were a mecca for people with problems in the early years. Virtually everybody there had been set to Padre for a "cure".
We probably appeared to be religious fanatics and very dysfunctional, and in some respects we were. But, every time you walked through the door, you knew that God was there and had imprinted His blessing upon this parish. It is still so to this day. -- Nelia Thorp