Jerry's Church in West Blocton

Well, this is where we think it was. Apparently, it has been torn down, but this is where we think it sat, to the best of our collective abilities.

As a boy, Jerry went to a Presbyterian church in West Blocton. It was down the same street as the Baptist church Aubrey went to. Not next door or even a few doors away, but down the same street, about a half-mile or so apart. Different sides of the road, and not in view of each other, but close.

Jerry probably would have gone to the Baptist church with Aubrey, but Mrs. Manring of the hotel with the same name, told him in a nice way, but in no uncertain terms, that they would all go to the town's Presbyterian church together each Sunday.

And they did. I asked Jerry how they got to the church. Did Mrs. Manring have a car? No. Did you go by wagon drawn by a horse or mule? No. Did you ride a bicycle? No. Well, how then? We walked to and from church, he said. That was a long walk in bad weather. But they did it just the same, because it was the right thing to do, and that was what everybody did in those days.