When we decided to leave Manila, Arkansas after two years, I first decided that I would quit preaching. I just thought that there must be a better way of life. I went to Jonesboro to talk to my brother, Ray and he would not help me find another job. He wanted me to preach. I went to my old friend, Floyd Winningham and talked to him about a job in his business or about him helping me find a job. Floyd said, "I would never help a preacher quit preaching!" He gave me some really good advice and we decided to continue our life in preaching the gospel. So, I began looking around and setting up times to "TRY-OUT" (I sure didn't like that term and still don't.")
Someone told me about the church at Swifton, Arkansas looking for a preacher. I didn't know one thing about the church there, but I made an appointment to go there to preach on a Wednesday night in May 1963. We rolled into town with a flat tire and three of the poorest looking characters in the country. I went to Lewis Hudgeons Texaco station to get the tire fixed and then we went on to church services. I don't remember much about that night except the sermon that I preached and it was probably about as flat as the tire was. However, they greeted us like we were really something and the next day they called and invited us to move there. I accepted the offer and began making plans to move in about 30 days.
Then, a preacher that lived close by told me that the Swifton church just fought all the time. That was one thing that we didn't need. I drove over to Swifton and met with the elders and told them what I had heard. Ira (Buck) Hulen said, "We don't have enough energy to fight" and they assured me that they had no desire to have anything but peace and unity. The first Sunday that I preached there I told the entire church about what I had heard, and that if they wanted to fight they would have to give us time to get into fighting shape because we had been through some hard times the previous two years. I will say right now that the 3 1/2 years that we lived at Swifton were some of the greatest years of our life, even until right now.
We had been in the house for about two days and a man knocked on the door. When I answered, he pushed me aside and walked through every room of that house and came back through and walked out and never said one word! I was in shock. What had I moved My Lady and Son into? I thought that the elders had lied and had sent a guy to whip us before I had even preached my first sermon as the local preacher. But, in a few minutes to same man came back, carrying a cold watermelon, introduced himself and we sat down and ate watermelon and had a great visit. The man's name was Bill Wheeler, Sr. He and Vesta his wife and thier family became very, very, dear to us. He was one of the most outstanding Christian men that I have ever known and taught me lesson after lesson about living for the Lord. I could write a book about Bill Wheeler. How we loved them! I could not possibly write in one blog post all the people at Swifton and what they meant to our lives.
It was at Swifton that our KATHY DEANN KNIGHT was born on February 16, 1966. When she was born at 2:30 in the morning I was so excited that I ran down the hall and woke up Oneida Chapman who was a patient there and told her about our baby girl. Then, I went to Tuckerman and stopped and called Ewell and Eloise Webb and told them that our Kathy had just arrived. Ewell could have shot me for waking him up that early but he was gracious. Our Kathy was named after their daughter, Kathy. So now we had a Son and a Daughter and Barbara thought that we were the only couple in the world with a child of each sex.
Life sure was good and we were still only about 40 miles from Herman Junction and could go there often and visit.
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