Roadside Memorial Baptist Church

Just outside of Saratoga, Texas is Roadside Memorial Baptist Church. Presently, the church sits on the south side of the highway, but it used to be on the north side. When it was in its former spot, it was what we called a one-room church house. Now, it actually had three rooms. Two were in the back and off to each side. They weren't big enough to seat more than six or seven people, and if memory serves, there weren't even that many chairs in them. If you wanted to go to the bathroom, you had to go outside, walk to the back and enter the outhouse to do your business. There was no running water.

Back in the day, the pastor was Alfred Marcontel. Alfred was a hard working man who loved God, family and life....in that order....more than most of the men I've met. He was a godly man and had a raspy voice from all those years of 'hollerin' from behind the pulpit. I haven't yet met a Marcontel that couldn't sing, though. Even if you couldn't sing not being a Marcontel, by some strange occurrence if you happened to marry into the family, voila! You could sing. It's a miracle.

Without going into details, Alfred showed me a great kindness one day that endeared me to him forever. He had a heart of gold and temper to match, but you rarely saw that side of him. My parents were so grateful to him for helping me, they began to pour their tithes and offerings into that little church. Now, I know a whole lot of other people gave of their means, but if it hadn't been for mom and dad they wouldn't have been able to build the new church building as quickly as they did.

I was married in that little one-room church house, by Alfred. It held a lot of good memories for me. It's been gone a long time, now. But the newer building is still there and from what I hear they still hold services there.

Alfred has also been gone a little while, but what he did for me will not be forgotten. I had a chance to go see him shortly before he died. It was a good visit, and I'll treasure it forever.

There are places in our past that hold significant value to us, as well as places that don't. It's best we forget the latter, and hold firm to the former. Even though Roadside had a short existence in my life, it still has a special place in my heart. The singing was great, the fellowship was awesome, and the preachin' weren't that bad. All in all, I guess I have to say it was what a church ought to be. It was a family. And it just don't get no better than that. (Bad word usage written on purpose. It's how I really talk.)