The Old Folks' Day and the Empty Pew
Newport's Methodist congregation honored its elders with lined-out hymns and a shared meal—then buried an invited guest before the day was over.
The old folks' day, Sunday, at the Methodist church was a happy one for most of the church. Notwithstanding the inclemency of the weather, a score of the elderly people of our community, regardless of church affiliations, greeted the pastor from the front pews. The service was after the manner of ye olden time. As 'How Tedious and Tasteless the Hours' was 'lined,' the voices caught the strain of 40 years agone and the tunes were 'pitched' and sung in the memory of other days. The subject of the address, 'Duties of Present and Passing Generations,' was taken from Joseph's care of his father, Jacob.
At the close of the address Mrs. H. T. Robinson sang a touching solo, 'Don't Forget the Old Folks.' The noon hour was a cheerful one. The good things prepared by the ladies were heartily appreciated. The afternoon program was interesting. The testimonies were fervent. The Epworth League had a part. A solo by Mr. Brittain, a recitation by Miss Margaret Sutherland and one by Miss Lottie Higginson were well received.
The pastor was called upon to leave the afternoon session to preach the funeral of one who had been invited to the meeting, Mrs. Matilda Bacon, mother of Mrs. Stewart, of South Newport, who passed into rest Saturday night, thus closing a pilgrimage begun in Belfast, Ireland, 72 years ago. This funeral service was held in the Baptist church because of the service already in progress in the Methodist church. Brother Schlosser, of the Baptist church, assisted in the service. The singing was beautiful and appropriate by the Baptist choir, assisted by the Methodist choir. The obituary closed by saying, 'She died trusting in the Savior.' This enabled the minister to speak with assurance from the text, 'In My Father's House Are Many Mansions.' Thus one of our old people, not permitted to gather at our banquet, was taken to the marriage supper of the Lamb. Thus passed an old folks' day.
“Thus one of our old people, not permitted to gather at our banquet, was taken to the marriage supper of the Lamb.”
A century ago, Newport's churches were the town's main gathering places, where generations worshipped and mourned in the same afternoon. The old folks' day described here—hymns lined out, a shared meal, a funeral for an invited guest—shows how small-town ritual held community together. Modern congregations still honor elders, but few events so clearly bind celebration and death in a single day.
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