Tag: Good Shepherd

The Inspiration Behind the Samantha Living Cookbook

June 25, 2018 / Becky Williamson-Martin / 0 Comments

Samantha Living First Edition Cookbook

Order Information at the end of post

My life’s journey has taken many detours but it brought me home and I have the honor and privilege of living in the home where I grew up. A few years ago, I would have never entertained the thought of living in Samantha again. But it’s strange how you can develop a longing to reach back and pick up those lessons learned from your growing years and you realize how rich your heritage really is. Not monetary wealth, but the love of family, friends, neighbors and community. That is getting more rare with each passing day. I was inspired to create a community cookbook primarily for four reasons.

To preserve our rich heritage and create a connection between past generations and future generations. It is my hope that someday our grandchildren will pick up this book and not only read and use these tried and true recipes, but it will prompt conversations about the names attributed to them. While I do believe we must live in the present and embrace our future, knowing our past gives us a sense of well-being and ownership. This project has given me opportunities to have precious conversations with some “senior” members of our community. Their laughter when remembering nuggets from the past is priceless to me and it encourages me to deepen my roots and strive to be able to offer the same one day when I receive such a call. Knowing stories about what others have faced, what they have drawn upon and risked. Great wisdom comes from their experiences. I believe knowing where we came from helps us understand the purpose of where we are going. Our heritage and legacy is a critical part of who we are as individuals. Embracing the heritage we were given enables us to leave a strong legacy. One worthy to be passed on.
To preserve family meals together. Ronald Reagan said, “All great change in America begins at the dinner table.” When I was growing up we always had supper every evening at the kitchen table. TV off and enjoying a home cooked meal and having conversation. When I visited with my friends, it was the same. Families, friends and neighbors sat around the kitchen table and told stories. It was a time to learn about each other’s lives. Having a meal at the kitchen table is not just a time to eat, but a time to tell stories. I loved to hear Momma and Daddy, my grandparents and aunts and uncles tell stories of the past. Families are so busy now that having supper together at the kitchen table is a lost art. I believe breaking bread together is important and I hope this cookbook will encourage us to cook more and eat more together. When I read stories in the Bible where Jesus sat and broke bread with others, it makes me know that is important.
To promote community. When folks come together to work toward a common goal, it serves to buildup and strengthen relationships. I believe communities grow stronger when folks regularly do a variety of simple things together. It gives us a chance to connect with others.
To raise funds for ministries and projects within our community.

Thank you for submitting recipes to make this cookbook possible and thank you for purchasing a copy. I appreciate you all more than you know.

Always keep “The Son” in your eyes.
Becky Williamson-Martin
Editor

For more information, send an email to [email protected] Or call (205) 233-3794

old recipes found at an estate sale in Samantha to be included in Samantha Living Cookbook

Southern cooks don’t measure, we just sprinkle and shake til the spirits of our ancestors say, “stop my child.”

August 14, 2017 / Norman Naugher / 0 Comments

by Norman W. Naugher

A while ago, we had the opportunity to visit with Norman and Nell Wright in their home. They shared a wonderful written story of the life of Norman growing up in Samantha. The writing is attached at the bottom of this page.

Playing dominoes with friends

Cowden home, old Byler Road (Old Highway 43)

The photos were captured on our visit.

“…This writing is dedicated to my wife, Nell, who almost had to get a knife and cut me open to extract these stories. To my son, Marty, whom she said would enjoy reading it, to my daughter, Jan, who keeps us all together, and my parents who had a hard time raising me…” Click here to read Norman’s Story

If you enjoyed reading Norman’s story, please leave comments below and let him know.

Becky Williamson-Martin

Hope Chest and Father’s Day

June 18, 2017 / Becky Williamson-Martin / 2 Comments

I saw this post on Facebook this week. Caption read Remember the Hope Chest? I remember the day daddy took me to Weems Furniture in Fayette to buy one for me when I was a young girl. I still have it. It no longer has a lid but I’m still using it. It has had a purpose in my house since the day we brought it home. Currently, I have it in the children’s corner of my house being used as my grandchildren’s toy box.

Cedar Chest Daddy Bought me

Daddy was a man of few words most of the time, but he knew how to make the important things, the important things without having to talk about them. As I recall, Mother mentioned it to him one Saturday morning that I wanted a Hope Chest. It wasn’t uncommon for me to go to Fayette with him on a Saturday. I would often tag along in his old dirty truck, smelling of diesel fuel and gasoline and sawdust on his Saturday errand day going to saw shops and tire stores. We always stopped in somewhere for lunch. I loved going to Lofty’s Cafe. That was the best hamburger I ever had. He would usually run into folks he knew and they would talk about “you momma and them”, gardening and logging. This particular Saturday he “asked me” to go with him. Our first stop was Weems Furniture. He tells the sales lady we are there to purchase a “Hope Chest”. She ushered us to the row of chests lined up on the side wall. Some with dark wood, some with padded lids, some more “fancy” than others. And there was this one, plain cedar chest at the very end, which is the one I liked. He paid the lady and as the young man was coming from the back to load it, Daddy just picked it up and took it the truck. I always thought he had the biggest muscles and he was always doing things like that to remind me. 🙂

Reliving my memories of Daddy and my cedar chest and it being Father’s Day stirred up other thoughts and sweet nuggets of precious memories of him. It’s sort of funny how when you are living the moment it doesn’t seem significant at all, but later as you touch it again, you see (and feel) it differently. For instance, Daddy, was always breaking or losing his reading glasses. He would fall asleep in the recliner reading and sit on them or they would get crushed somehow. He would repair them in his special way by tying whatever he had available to make them stay on his head. 14 pair of reading glasses were found in the house after he left us. Some with those special ties.

Daddy’s Glasses

When I saw him wearing those glasses I would think it was funny or silly or wonder why in the world does he do that! Now I have them all in his box that he kept notes with phone numbers or whatever. I guess most people would have just thrown them away, but to me it’s a connection to him – sort of fills that “missing him” part in my soul. It’s the “real” things he did that I love so much. Those things that made him unique.

Another example of that unique repair work he would do, is his nut cracker. He never enjoyed TV much so he often would crack nuts at night to be doing something productive waiting on the sun to come up. A lot of men repair everything with duct tape. Not daddy. He used medical tape. Probably because he had a lot of that on hand because he usually had some sort of injury. LOL He wrapped medical tape around the big nail and continued on with his cracking nuts. I just couldn’t throw that away either.

Daddy’s Phone Books

Then there’s his phone books. He wore out some phone books I will tell you. Proof that he stayed connected to folks. He was interested in knowing about them. He spent hours on the phone at night reaching out to his friends and turning strangers into friends. He made opportunity. (Galatians 6:10).

To those who still have your dads – I promise you that those things which you think embarrass you or cause you to shake your head or roll your eyes about your dad – those quirky things he says or does – will someday be a precious memory that you embrace and that you will long to relive.

To those who have said a temporary good bye to your dads, I ask you – “do you agree”? Please feel free to share your memories in the comments below.

Daddy’s Glasses, Phone Books, Nut Cracker and hammer

The greatest man I ever knew!

by Becky Williamson Martin

In memory of Johnny Williamson (4/19/35-6/30/13)

Daddy in the swing on his porch

Daddy’s hands

Shepherd Hill Opry Welcomed Guy Penrod

May 11, 2017 / Samantha Living / 0 Comments

Samantha, Alabama – Guy Penrod sang to 600+ guests at Shepherd Hill Opry this past Saturday. During his concert, which was very relaxed and intimate, he called his wife, Angie, on the phone to wish her a Happy 32^nd Anniversary. Angie kidded him about celebrating their anniversary with new friends while she

Penrod calls his wife Angie during concert

was home planting flowers. The crowd applauded when he bragged on how blessed he was to be married to “a good country girl”.

Penrod is one of the most in-demand touring artists in Christian music. His DVD, The Best of Guy Penrod is certified platinum by the RIAA. A vocal powerhouse, Penrod travels throughout the U.S. and abroad in addition to making multiple media appearances including radio’s “The Mike Huckabee Show,” RFD-TV’s top-rated “Larry’s Country Diner” and one of North America’s most popular Christian television programs “100 Huntley Street.” Additionally, Penrod hosts DayStar Television’s Emmy Award-winning “Gospel Music Showcase” program.

Known for his country styling, Penrod’s music has been applauded in the Gospel as well as country formats. He has appeared on “The Grand Ole Opry” and on numerous country recordings. His Hymns recording (Gaither Music Group/ Servant Records), debuted at #1 on the Nielsen SoundScan Southern Gospel retail chart and became the top-selling southern Gospel album of 2012. In 2011, he became a Texas Gospel Music Hall of Fame inductee; and he was inducted alongside the Gaither Vocal Band into the Gospel Music Hall of Fame in 2014.

Penrod certainly worked his charm on the crowd in Samantha. In addition to his beautiful voice, he has a wonderful repore with everyone he meets and you know immediately that he practices what he preaches – “loving folks”.

The band had some technical difficulties and Penrod asked to borrow a car to “run to Eat My Beats”. Without hesitation, a volunteer handed him the keys. It had a full tank when he returned, she said, “and it was probably on fumes when he left in it with all the running around getting ready for the event”.

Representatives from The Good Shepherd Foundation, who sponsored the event, said folks have already been inquring about when Penrod will be back to Shepherd Hill Opry.

Shepherd Hill Opry was built in memory of Johnny Williamson by his children on the property where he

Guests enjoy the sounds of Guy Penrod

called home and created deep roots. Concerts are held throughout the year. Well-known Nashville artists Lulu Roman (former Hee Haw Star), Allen Frizzell (Lefty Frizzell’s younger brother), Marty Raybon (lead singer with Shenandoah), Clinton Gregory Bluegrass Band, Jennifer Brantley, Gerald Smith, and Addison Johnson have performed at Shepherd Hill Opry as well as Donnie Lee Strickland and Shannon Knight formerly with The Gaithers in addition to many local artists. To find out more about Shepherd Hill Opry, visit the website at http://www.goodshepherdfound.org/shepherd-hill-opry.html or by calling (205) 233-3794.

Jesus in a Box? – A Samantha Landmark

July 7, 2016 / Becky Williamson-Martin / 1 Comment

Standing in line at the Dollar General in Samantha can be entertaining at times, and this particular day was no exception. I overheard a couple of fellas who had not seen each other since high school catching up. “Hey man, where are you living now?” “Oh, I live about one mile down that road in front of the Jesus statue.” I thought about that conversation on my way home and as I turned into my drive I stopped at the statue in my yard and thought about the story behind this local landmark. After the death of my grandmother, Pealie Mae Williamson, in February 1998, my daddy, Johnny Williamson, was inspired to create a representation of the 23rd Psalm. It was her favorite scripture. A Cypress log was chosen for The Good Shepherd Statue because of the longstanding belief that the Cypress is the “gopher wood” (or kopher, which is the Hebrew word for waterproof) that Noah used to build the ark. Daddy worked alongside his longtime friend and local artist/sculptor, Willie Logan, to carve the 6-1/2 foot statue of The Good Shepherd.

It’s sort of amusing how you can become so accustomed to something that you no longer see it, or think about it. This statue has just been part of the normal landscape in my daddy’s yard for years. But, a few years ago I started noticing it when I would visit him. I developed a desire to know and understand what he saw, what his intentions were, and how he viewed The Good Shepherd Statue. I began to ask questions, and we spent hours sitting in the rockers on daddy’s front porch, shelling peas or peeling apples, as he tried to teach me.

Shelling peas with daddy on his porch

Finally, after a ton of my questions, he said, just read, Joshua 4. You see, my father was a great teacher, but he didn’t just simply give you all the answers. He was a deep thinker and that is what he wanted me to do: think about it, ponder on it, dig for it, and come to know it on my own. Local newspapers had done some articles in the past on the statue, and I dug them up. He had told those reporters, “The Statue is a testimony of my faith. It isn’t meant to be an idol. You don’t worship it, but it gets people to think and do good deeds.” Hmm, Good deeds. Well, I had certainly seen him do many good deeds over the course of my life. Time and time again, I saw my daddy give to others. He was selfless. I don’t recall ever hearing him say he wanted anything for himself. Giving to others was always on his mind. And somehow, he managed to know what their needs were. A friend told me once, “your daddy was like a magnet, you just wanted to be around him.

Daddy had a heart attack in March (2013) and died four months later. I had the privilege of living in his house with him during those four months. During many long nights, when he couldn’t sleep, he talked intently about life, pouring story after story into my heart and life that I will never forget. A few weeks after his death, I was looking through his books and found A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 by Phillip Keller. I could feel my daddy’s big hands on the book as I opened it. Reading this book helped me connect the dots of what daddy had tried to tell me and it gave me a new understanding of The Good Shepherd. I went back and read Joshua 4. This time I really read it with my heart’s ears. Joshua 4 teaches us to set up memorials as a testimony of what God has done and so that our children and others will ask us “what does this mean”? If provides an opportunity to tell others about Jesus – to tell our story. Since 1999 when it was erected, The Good Shepherd Statue has caused much conversation. Some understand it, some don’t. It has certainly fulfilled it’s purpose of setting down stones as memorials according to Joshua 4. Folks from all over the United States stop by to see it and take pictures. The sheep was stolen once, but thanks to some good Samaritans it was returned to it’s place next to The Good Shepherd Statue. Some call it Jesus in a Box. Daddy never really liked that term. He would say, “everyone knows it’s not Jesus, and you cannot put Jesus in a box”. If you are ever traveling along Highway 43 in Samantha, you are welcome to stop and pay a visit. Check in on Facebook. Take pictures and ponder the meaning of The Good Shepherd.