My mother was the kind that on Sunday you were going to go to church and there were no exceptions. My father was like John Walton, he went sometimes, and he always said God is everywhere, and he didn’t go as often. I don’t remember much about my church life when I was younger.
Now, when I was 11 years old on October 23, 1966, that Sunday morning something was wrong, and I didn’t know what. I was not sick, I was not hurt, but I just was not right. We went to church, my mother and me, and I can not tell you what happened or anything. Can not tell you about Sunday school, songs that we sung, or what Bro. Lee preached. Something was wrong, but what?
We went home and all day I did not play or anything. I walked around, sat in my room and did nothing. Sunday night we went back to church, and again I could not tell you what Bro. Lee preached on or anything. Now when the last song was sang (Just as I am), and I said my God I know. I stepped out and can’t remember anything else until I got down to Bro. Lee. He asked me what was wrong, and I said nothing now. The Lord saved me on the way up here. We sat on the bench and when the song was over, we stood up and Bro. Lee said something happened and he asked me what. I told the church that I got saved. I could not wait until we got home and I told my father and everyone the next day at school.