In the early 1940s, I played on Pinehill, where my siblings made a swing from a vine and a board for the seat. I would swing for hours, sometimes under the light of the moon. My life was simple and carefree.
Our home was only a few yards away, close enough to get a glass of Kool-Aid and go back to swinging.
My mother who, without job opportunities, stayed at home and always knew where I was. I am the seventh of eleven children – six girls and boys, although Baby Mattie passed a few months after birth. So we were 10 growing up.
My mother made our lives so interesting by telling us Bible stories and fairy tales. I didn’t know fairy tales weren’t factual until I grew up and read them in books. Mama told us the story of Billy Begs Bull, One Eye TwoEyes and Three Eyes, Epapodonas, the big feet people of Stunningham, and Long Fellow who could get places by stepping miles at a time.
She told us all of the Bible stories – Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, Daniel in the den of lions, the birth of Jesus, some of His miracles and many more. We did not have a library in rural Liberty County, or many books at our two-room school house. My mom however filled our lives with wonderful stories.
My father was a traveling preacher, so we didn’t see much of him. He told us adventures of how he took the message of salvation to many places. He traveled through Florida, Georgia and his native South Carolina. Walking was his primary mode of transportation. He’d come home and tell us about his missions. Many times as he walked, a driver would pick him up and drop him off somewhere. He would find townspeople along his travels and tell them about Jesus. There were no motels where my father could rest and if there were, he couldn’t afford it. Hence, different families along the way invited him into their home. This went on for years. When I was a bit older, he was blessed to buy a 1935 Ford.
Between some of my father’s mission trips, he worked at a sawmill in Riceboro, Ga. with my eldest brother, Eddie. I was told that he was the best block setter in the area. I didn’t then, and don’t know now what a block setter is.
I’m telling you a bit of my story because someone asked me why I wanted to start a Mission House. The answer didn’t come to me right away. But as I thought about it, I realized long ago I desired to house Christian workers as a tribute to my father. He spent many nights in the homes of strangers. Someone was always gracious enough to offer him room and board as he preached the gospel.
Remembering that 1935 Ford Papa, as we called him, at times was able to take the family to Savannah when he ministered there. It was always exciting to go to Savannah, where I saw neon lights for the first time in my life. A family in Savannah who Papa ministered to allowed us to stay at their house. Although it was a small house with four children, the family welcomed my father, mother and four of us children to into their home. I was happy to be in Savannah with my parents and go to the church where he ministered. Other families in Guyton, Nahunta, Shellman Bluff and Brunswick, among others, also let us stay with them.
I am so blessed to be able to open a Mission House for the work of the ministry. Having lived in the Philadelphia area with my late husband, Ted W. Barnes, for the majority of my adulthood, we resettled in Savannah in 1996. I shared my dream with Ted, who was very supportive, but unexpected circumstances deferred our dream. In fact, when Ted passed in 2014 I thought the dream was dead. Then something happened. Someone offered to buy my house in Liberty County and I almost sold it, but I got a new inspiration to go back to my dream. The Lord set a fire in my soul that will not be quenched. As a result, Pinehill Lighthouse Residence will officially open this year.