Marvin,

Thank you for being there for all of us. It is so wonderful that you are doing this for memories and entertainment for avid readers. I sincerely hope it continues to grow for you. You are, without a doubt, one of the most gifted photographers in the world. Ansel Adams would be proud. I know that we are proud of you.

There must be a picture of Philippi Church somewhere in your archives of photographs. My memories of Philippi Church in Cofield begin back in the late 1940’s, long before most of your readers were born. Not that I am that old...

Several Philippi Church memories remain very vivid in my mind many years later. My most incredible memory is being baptized at the young age of 12. Incredible, because as I think back to those revivals, those baptisms should have taken place in warmer weather. Not that my relationship with God would have been any different - although; He did have to forgive me for my thoughts the rest of that day.

Because of Quincy Whitaker's $50,000 donation, Phillipi Baptist in Cofield, built
in 1914, is now bricked over. But twenty-
some years before this 1981 photo, the
bell tower and the front entrance was
exposed. Raleigh Myrick was the bell
ringer then and Chester A. Hart was still
the pastor, serving almost fifty years.

That Sunday was such a cool October morning and our beautiful, sweet mother, Elaine Davis, had explained how I was to become one of God’s precious Angels that day. She also explained that I would become a member of Philippi Church. I thought I was already a member. I was there every third Sunday of the month for Sunday School and church services. What was going to be different after I was baptized? Oh, the tithing thing.

She had taken my clothes for me because, she told me, the dress I would be wearing would have to be changed.

My sister and I sat on the very front pew in church that morning with others I cannot remember. From that moment until today, I knew how the expression, “In front of God and the World” came about. My Sister, Linda [Davis] Pierce (definitely one of God’s Angels), was sitting to my left. If she was nervous, she did not show it at all.

Then, it was my turn to be baptized. Reverend Chester A. Hart took my frail little hand and, with the assistance of my Mother and your Aunt Daisy Mountain, led me down those steps into that pool behind the pulpit. I honestly thought I had stepped into pure ice. As my body became more submerged into that freezing water, I know I had to wonder to myself, “Why in the world would anyone want to be baptized?” I remember trembling with teeth chattering as though I was standing in the Artic Ocean. I remember Reverend Hart saying, “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” That is all I remember, because, at that point, he placed what seemed to be the largest hand I had ever felt in my life over my mouth and nose. He quickly and completely doused me into that frigid water with one sweep. I thought I was going to die.

Pat received her baptism the year after this photograph.

The second memory is when our father, Robert Davis, went to Philippi Church revival services one Friday night with the family. He was an extremely hard working man who put in long days and nights attempting to support his family as much as possible. I do not know how he and Elaine managed with four children and one income. Our father sat in a nearby pew that evening so he could keep his children under visual eye. I always believed that anyway. As my father sat in that pew, he must have dozed off. That would not have been so bad if Reverend Hart, right in the middle of his sermon, had not said, “Would someone please tap Brother Davis on the shoulder and wake him up.”

If you are a child of 12 years of age, and you are in a church full of worshippers - family and friends - and the minister decides to awaken your father “in front of God and the World,” believe me, you will never fall asleep in church the rest of your life. Our father returned to Philippi Church only once after that night. He was asleep forever.