It’s August in Oklahoma. A special time in Summer where everything is different. The days are getting shorter, the skies are bluer and everything you see is with a new definition of focus. The leaves on the trees are sharply defined as are the clouds in the sky. And if you were alive in 1947 and Baptist, it was time to go to Falls Creek. Just like the other thousands of Oklahoma Baptists did.

In July of 1947 the pastor of First Baptist Church, Dr. W. E. Davis was making plans. The congregation and especially the youth were eager and ready to go to Falls Creek, down by Davis, Oklahoma. I didn’t know exactly where Falls Creek was, but I was excited and wanted to go. But Dr. Davis said no. “You ain’t old enough.” I admired Dr. Davis who had one set of twin boys who were my age. I knew he had to be smart since he was some kind of doctor who preached.

Dr. Davis had asked my mom if she could go to Falls Creek as a cook. I heard this and I quickly asked if I could go. Hard pressed for cooks and sponsors he said OK. We didn’t go buy a bunch of groceries like they do now but announcements were made and signs posted around the church telling of our need for food donations--and they did roll in. Rancher John Polk donated a half beef and one farmer gave a large number of young fryers (chickens) while others scoured their gardens.

It cost $3.00 and campers were to take their own spending money for refreshments. And things were high down there. It cost 10-cents for a nickel coke or candy bar. The church had bought a parcel of land to build a cabin on, but it wasn’t built yet and we would rent three pretty good sized tents. One was to cook in and the other two for sleeping in. I had no idea (and neither did Dr. Davis) that we would have about 50 kids show up. About 20 was all that had turned in their names. We did, however, have several “girl chasers” and what I can only call, “town thugs” that showed up unannounced. Dr. Davis with the help of Falls Creek Security wisely sent some of them home that first day.

We had two propane refrigerators and two cook stoves. We had a meter set up with electric plug ins on it. And we had an ungodly number of live chickens. Offi cials noticed the truckload of fryers when we came through the gate and did everything but place us all under arrest. “You can’t bring livestock in here,” they said. But there they were. The solution was that we would murder all the fryers the next day and eat all we could and put the other dead bodies under refrigeration as best we could. The next day several of us boys were designated as chicken pluckers. We just used hot water and pulled the feathers off and let ‘em fly in the wind. Again, there were consequences. Security down at Falls Creek noticed the camps had taken on the appearance of a winter ski lodge. Lots of blowing snow it seemed.

We were all indentured into picking up every last feather and sack them up. We could have sold them to a mattress company and made money. Also, our camp was now famous, sort of. “Stonewall?” “Oh you’re the ones that brought a truck load of live chickens in.” But we finally got down to the part where you went to church and got to hear preaching by England’s Robert G. Lee, one of the greatest and most famous evangelists of our time. We swam and hiked the little round mountains and made friends with all the pretty girls down there and yes, we had a lot of fun. And of course we ate all those chickens and devoured all of the beef that the generous rancher John Polk donated. And we got home we had some great stories to tell of our adventures at Falls Creek.

Getting back to the present, Allen FBC just got back from our annual trip to Falls Creek. Yes, they took about 50 kids and someone even said we took a thug or two. Who knew? Oh! And the names of the thugs? They know who you are. Maybe they will have some great stories to share with us about the famous place known as Falls Creek.

Be sure and enjoy the month of August and be ready for school. Of course, you need to be sure and go to church Sunday.

Wayne Bullard, DPh

waynebullard@sbcglobal.net