The death of the Rev. Bryan Clinton Childress of Willis, Va., on December 19, 2006, was not a surprise. He was, after all, 85 years old, and had been in poor health for some time. His pastoral life, spent entirely in Appalachia, was not remarkable in terms of great achievements, but it was a sincere witness to Christ and the meaning of a life dedicated to him.
I met Bryan nearly 50 years ago in Pendleton County, West Virginia. I was the summer student minister of a field of six preaching points in the area of Circleville and Seneca Rocks. My work was under the supervision of the Rev. Dale Jones, who gave devoted service to those churches and chapels before he returned to teaching the deaf at the school in Staunton, Va. Bryan came to conduct a revival at the Seneca Rocks Church, and I was present for several of the evenings he held forth in that beautiful stone church. I was sophisticated in those days, and wondered about this rather rough-hewn mountain man, who came with his accordion and uncultured voice to proclaim the Lord’s message to the gathered folks.
I decided that I would participate by playing the church’s pump organ, which I had tried to rehabilitate over a few weeks. I doubt that my playing of that Estey organ inspired many, but I was doing my part. So, it was Bryan Childress and his squeezebox, and Lawton Posey, sophisticated seminarian at the more cultivated reed organ!
Many years later, when I stood talking with Bryan in the churchyard of the Buffalo Mountain Church, which had been built by his energetic missionary father, the Rev. Robert Childress, he reminded me that I had abandoned him in the midst of the revival, to return home to South Carolina. I don’t recall leaving in that way, but Bryan probably knew that his basic, unadorned ways might have put me off a bit.
Nonetheless, over the years, Bryan and I were friends, and after learning more about his dad Robert Childress, I grew in respect of both these men.
Over his years of ministry in the area not far from the Blue Ridge Parkway, the elder Childress built several beautiful stone churches. He designed them, supervised the labors of the workers, and preached in them. Names like Buffalo Mountain, Slate Mountain, Mayberry, Bluemont and others come to mind.
His son served some of those same congregations. I remember the younger Childress as Minister of Word and Sacrament at Buffalo Mountain, and at Gilbert, W. Va. For many years, perhaps twenty, he developed the ministry of Stone Memorial Church in Marion, Va., where several congregational locations are united in one ministry. “In his twenty years there at Stone Memorial,” says his obituary, “he gave tirelessly of himself, and his influence upon the people of Southwest Virginia shall endure for years to come.”
My last contacts with this mountain man and devoted preacher occurred in relationship to the annual Strawberry Festival sponsored by the church at Buffalo Mountain. My friend Vaughn Earl Hartsell and I had discovered that the church had an historic Estey “Cathedral” reed organ that had been renovated by our Union Seminary schoolmate, the Rev. Harry Painter. Mr. Hartsell and I developed three programs, using the 1885 instrument, which were presented at three successive Strawberry Festivals. A fourth concert was presented during that same festival by Ned Phoenix, a famous organ expert from Vermont, who also cleaned and prepared the organ for continued service.
Bryan Childress was justly proud of his association with Buffalo Church, and of his father’s work in procuring this fine musical instrument for a church well off the beaten path. At one festival, he described the organ as having been brought to the church by mule wagon.
He enjoyed people, and his open and pleasant demeanor resulted in quick friendships.
In his later years, with signs of heart trouble, he continued to work hard. He preached on Sunday, visited with people, and labored in the fields, literally making hay while the sun shone. At the age of 34 he had been ordained by Abingdon Presbytery. Bryan devoted 51 years to ministry in congregations that would never make it on to the “best attended” or “most innovative” list. He was plain. But not simple. After all, he was an alumnus of both King College and Union Seminary.
There have been few like him, but the world of the church is blessed by his years of service. I understand that his favorite benediction went something like this: Only one life; it soon shall pass. Only what is done for Christ shall last.
I salute him, and remember him standing at the pulpit, singing to the sound of his accordion.
Author’s note: The Man Who Moved a Mountain by Richard C. Davids (still in print and available) tells the story of the Rev. Bob Childress with mentions of all his sons. A nephew serves one of the “Childress Churches” to the present day.
Lawton W. Posey is a retired minister living in Charleston, W. Va.
