NOTE: I wanted to get this up on the 31st, but didn't make it. If you didn't read my last blog, you might want to do that first

One evening, I think it was in the fall of ’84, we went out knocking on doors and passing out tracts. I can’t remember where exactly we were at, but it was somewhere on Briary Road. Regardless, we came to a place where there were two gravel side roads that branched off the main road. Dad and Deacon Tim Underwood took the right side road while Kenny Oglesbee and myself took the left.

There were about five houses on this lane and it didn’t take Ken and I long to knock on all of their doors. We would take turns doing the talking. We would introduce ourselves if we didn’t know the person who answered, invite them to our services, give them a tract, and thank them for their time. Sometimes, the people would have questions and we would take time to answer them, but usually, that wouldn’t happen. On this night, there were no questions. After we were through with those first five houses, I thought we were finished.

I was wrong.

Before I go on, let me explain something. Back then, Ken Oglesbee would go forward in an invitation at church and rededicate his life at least three or four times a year. After these rededications, Kenny would be almost impossible to be around for a few weeks. He would speak in King James English half the time and preach at me whether I needed it or not.

Not much time had passed since his last rededication.

“Brother,” he began, “did we not vow unto the Lord that we would take the Gospel to every creature in Lewis County?”

“Well, yeah,” I replied.

“There is one more house on this road!”
Well, he was right…kind of. At the end of this lane was an old, broken down house. It had been abandoned for years, though and I told Kenny as much. He wasn’t having it.

“Brother, we hath promised to put a tract in every home,” he said with as much authority as possible. “There art a soul in every house!”

“But, Kenny, nobody has lived there for years!”

“Brother, there is a light in the window of that house!”

I was about to tell Kenny that he was nuts, but when I looked down to the end of the lane, he was right. There was a faint light in the window, almost like a candle. But it was a light.

“Brother, there is someone there and THEY HAVE A SOUL!”

“Ok, let’s go!” I said. When Kenny got rededicated, he also felt the need to constantly remind me that everybody had a soul.

So we walk down to this ramshackle old house, stepped onto the rickety old porch and I knocked on the door…no answer. I knocked again…no answer. Knocked the third time. No answer. I was about to say, “let’s go”, when suddenly the door swung open!

Before us, stood a man. He had hair that sprang from his head in every direction and a scraggly, patchy beard. His clothes were old, ragged and dirty His eyes were wild and bloodshot. He did an amazing thing. I was standing in front of him, but for several seconds, he didn’t look directly at me. His eyes looked above me, around me, between Kenny and I. Finally, he looked me right in the eye and an evil grin spread over his face. His teeth looked like a wolf’s.

That was not a pleasant experience, friends and neighbors.

“OH!” he exclaimed. “It’s yooooouuuuuuuuu!”

“Well, uh, yes...I’m from Faith Baptist Church, this is Kenny and I’m Clarence. We’d like to invite you to our services and give you this tract…”

When I offered the tract, he shrank back like I was holding a snake. Then, he gave me that wicked smile again.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to our services, sir,” I stammered. “We…uh, well we didn’t think anybody lived here.”

“Oh, I don’t live here,” he replied, “ I only staaaaay heeeeere…in the niiiiiiiiight!”

With that, the strange man walked backwards, well, it seemed more like he glided though the door. The door slammed behind him and I honestly didn’t see him touch it. As the door slammed, the light in the window went out.

“Well, what about that?” I said to Kenny, but Kenny wasn’t there. He had taken off and was already almost back to the main road!

I used to laugh at Ken for that, but the longer I live, the more that I think he had good sense to get out of there! After that night, I looked for a light in the window every time I passed that house, but I never did see any signs of life there again. To this day, I have no idea who or what it was that I spoke to that night, but I’m glad I invited him to church. After all, he had a soul!

I hope…..