If we care
to do a little research, every one of us can locate a few choice ancestors who
were nothing less than characters.
I have done
a great deal of genealogical research and discovered some of those characters
“growing” on my family tree.
However, I think
among a myriad of known and unknown characters on my family tree the most
unique was a preacher named Rev. Isom Peacock, my 4x great grandfather, and a
Revolutionary War soldier, and itinerant minister of the Baptist persuasion.
Of course,
there were any number of itinerant Baptist preachers who traveled a fixed
circuit in those days, and held services at churches in an area as large as a
couple thousand square miles; (about the size of the County of Polk in central
Florida, in which I currently reside).
Old Isom
resided in South Georgia, and eventually, Florida, and there were several
things, ultimately, which made him unique among his peers.
You see, this
circuit rider was zealous for the Lord, at least for the Baptist doctrine,
since he is credited with founding the first (not First) Baptist church in the
State of Florida in what is now Nassau County. (His son-in-law, a Rev. Ryan
Frier, my 3x great Grandfather, founded a small mixed-race Baptist church in
Jacksonville, Florida which became “the first fruits” for two mega-churches
which exist in that city today).
Beyond Isom’s
notoriety for having founded the initial Baptist congregation in the State of
Florida, it seems he was “taken up” with the doctrine or condition of that
freedom which Christ bestows upon His people. It is reported that he regularly
pulled a fifth of whisky from his over-sized coat pocket, and swigged on it, as
he stood behind the pulpit.
(Talk about ‘show
and tell’)!
I surmise
the ole boy owned slaves, as we know that his son-in-law, Ryan, did. It would
appear even men of the cloth suffered no apparent contradiction between the preaching
the Gospel and the keeping of slaves.
Did I claim
ole Isom was unique? (Well, he was).
For you see,
as the
… 107
year old minister was attempting to mount his horse one morning, he
somehow slipped, and fell to the ground; never to rise again.
I suppose if
the old man hadn’t been driving under the
influence he might still be with us.
By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary," Vol. 37. Copyright pending
If you would like to copy, share or save, please include the credit line, above
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By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary," Vol. 37. Copyright pending
If you would like to copy, share or save, please include the credit line, above
*************
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