The last thing I would ever do is disparage the name Oral Roberts. My Grandma would come sailing forth out of Heaven, switch in hand, ready to dispense the Justice of the Lord upon any heathen who would dare do that.
Grandma Salley presided over the family farmhouse just outside Eupora like a sweet but dominating force of nature. Having raised six children through the ups and downs of the Depression, she was a combination of Granny from the Beverly Hillbillies and Elizabeth I of England, and only the fool would think for a minute that this 98 pound woman was someone to be trifled with.
A Mississippi woman.
She slept with a .38 revolver under her pillow and a rifle leaning against the bedroom wall. She would defend the castle from water moccasins and other country pests with a wood handled hoe from her garden, then go back to cooking dinner.
From the time I was little all the way to adulthood, she invested much time and effort into bringing me into the good graces of the Lord and the inspiring words of Oral Roberts.
In her world, God was behind the wheel and Oral was riding shotgun.
For those of you too young to know, Roberts had a huge following as a TV preacher in the 1950’s through the 1970’s, and my guess is that thousands of Magnolia State grandmommas were on board the O.R. train.
During periods of time when my mother was in the hospital and my Dad was over in South East Asia helping to fight the communist scourge, I would live with Miz Eliza out in the country.
She was determined to bring me – the first of my generation – into the Light of the Lord.
At the farmhouse there was a radio and a black and white TV that seemed to (barely) get only one snowy channel. The only time the TV was on was when Roberts’ “Abundant Life” program was scheduled, or when I tried in vain to find the “Lone Ranger”.
Grandma had at least one of every “free give away” item that Oral provided when you would send in a small donation. Buttons, pens, pamphlets, books and doodads. You name it.
But most popular of all… the official Oral Roberts Prayer Cloth.
A $5 donation (or more if you love the Lord!) would get you a 5”x5” piece of blue cotton cloth which had been carried by Oral himself to the top of the Prayer Tower, where he would pray over it to ask God to answer your request. Whether it was to cure your diabetes or to replace your broken refrigerator.
Nothing was out of reach for the Almighty.
No matter where I was in the world over the years, from elementary school on, every so often I would get a letter with that unmistakable handwriting.
Inside was a short letter, a Prayer Cloth and a $1 bill (to spend on whatever I wanted).
The last time I received one, I was 41 years old. Still a dollar.
Wish I would get one now.
Thom Caraccio ([email protected]) is a retired musician and retired motion picture scenic artist living in West Palm Beach, Florida who hails from Columbus. He graduated from S.D. Lee High in 1968 and still considers Columbus his real hometown.
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Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 34 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
