Our Stories: Walter S. Wilson
Written by Walter S. Wilson, Published on July 16, 2018
I started attending St. Paul’s Church at age 4 with my father, also named Walter W. Wilson, and two sisters. My mother had passed away when I was age 2 ½.
Our godparents introduced us to St. Paul’s. My sister used to ride to church with Father Gordon Smith. She would walk to his home (the rectory), which was located at 42nd Street and Grand Avenue. The Reverend Smith served as priest until he was elected bishop in April 1950. The next priest was the Rev. P.M. Casady.
I was baptized and confirmed at St. Paul’s. Father Fletcher led the confirmation classes, and he had us memorize the Catechism book, which I still have. After memorizing, we had to go into a room to recite the entire book back to him.
I also played on St. Paul’s basketball team, which included Tim Rawson, Hobie Bannister, Tom Redd, Bill Prouty, Jeff Lowe, Bob Jolley, and Skip Meyers. Mr. Robert Jolley (Bob’s dad) served as our coach, and we practiced at the YWCA, which was on the block across from the church. We played games at Central Presbyterian, Plymouth Church, the Methodist Church, and St. Mark’s Episcopal Church. Father Hedges was also involved with the team.
Mr. J. Locke Macomber was Sunday school teacher. He once took all members of the class to a baseball game at Sec Taylor Stadium.
The church’s undercroft was divided by dark green burlap drapes for classrooms; the drapes could then be drawn apart for large meetings.
Dr. Nathan Jones served as children’s choir director, and his wife Betty was the organist. We had a men and boys’ choir, as well as a women and girls’ choir. Services were held at 8 a.m., 9:30 and 11 a.m.
Once a month, Father Casady spoke from a lectern down in front of the nave, where we could ask religious questions, and he would attempt to answer them.
We also had envelopes for taking our offerings to church. One Sunday, I recall, one of the boys, took 10 cents out of his envelope and put an empty one in the collection plate. I asked my dad if this was the right thing to do. And, he said, “Absolutely not!’’
The church owned two old apartment buildings in the parking lot. Parishioner Brownie, and his wife Helen, were avid members of St. Paul’s. Brownie asked my dad to raise money to tear down the buildings for additional parking and new asphalt. Eventually, the parking lot was replaced by parishioner V.C. Benderoff at cost, which my dad said was very lucky.
My dad also worked very hard with many others to acquire money for remodeling. He also tried to get extra money for a rainy-day fund, which was accomplished.
Brownie owned several small parking lots, including one that was across the street where 801 Grand is located now. He allowed St. Paul’s attendees to park there on Sundays.
At the time, the church would get very hot, because it only had two fans and no air-conditioning. I remember one Sunday when a couple of folks passed out at a Sunday service and were attended to by doctor members of St. Paul’s. One doctor said that it was due to locked knees.
I also served as an usher for many years, and helped teach Sunday school.
In 1974, I was married to Janet Strongfellow at St. Paul’s. Our two sons attended St. Paul’s, and our granddaughter was baptized at the church.
