"Oh come to the church in the wildwood, Oh, come to the church in the vale; no spot is so dear to my childhood as the little brown church in the vale."
Walking through the doors of Shiloh Methodist Church feels like stepping back in time. The wooden pews are backless and have no padding. There is no hum of heating or air conditioning and no buzz of electricity. Instead, the large-paned windows are opened to welcome the breeze, and sunlight provides the perfect lighting to fill the room. Shiloh is simple, which is at the heart of its timeless charm.
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Inside the church. |
Nestled in the woods off Shiloh Church Road in Troy, North Carolina, Shiloh Church’s history is rooted in a humble beginning. According to Montgomery County deed records, Joseph Haltom donated the land in 1836, and a log building was constructed near a small spring. Furnished with backless benches and a fireplace, it served as a church and a one-room schoolhouse. In 1883, after a fire destroyed the original structure, the congregation constructed a new building at the present site. In the early 20th century, changes in the rural population affected attendance, and many people left the congregation. Abandoned, Shiloh’s doors closed in 1928. In 1939, former students and members met together at the church. It became known as the Shiloh Reunion, and its purpose was to keep the memory of Shiloh alive for years to come. That purpose continues to this day.
This year’s reunion was on Sunday, September 22. It was a beautiful day as we celebrated 85 years! No matter how often I travel down that long gravel driveway through the woods to get there, I always feel excited. I’ve attended this reunion with my family since I was a kid. The Shiloh Reunion is not just an event; it’s a tradition that carries deep meaning for our family. It’s a tradition I cherish, and I look forward to being part of it again every year. As I walked up the weathered steps of the church, I thought about all the family and friends who had passed through these doors over the years. Many of them are no longer with us, and the crowd grows smaller each year. It’s a quiet reminder of how quickly time passes. This year, we were fortunate to have about 35 people join us, including a lady who attended the very first reunion in 1939!
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Page 121 from the hymnal |
The service began with morning announcements and a prayer. Then, everyone picked up the Cokesbury Hymnal to sing the opening hymns, “The Church In the Wildwood” and “Revive Us Again.” Thanks to the church's natural acoustics, everyone's voices echoed beautifully. This year, Rev. Jim Hunsucker preached a powerful message from the book of Matthew. As the service closed, we sang, “God Be With You Till We Meet Again."
After the service, everyone gathered around the long concrete picnic table for dinner on the grounds like those early Beamans, Russells, Cranfords, Hurleys, and VunCannons did. The table was filled with the best homemade dishes and desserts. My favorites were mashed potatoes, green beans, beef stew with carrots, and my mom's chicken and dressing casserole. As I sat down, I was surrounded by laughter and conversation. I enjoyed seeing people I hadn’t seen in a year and talking with them and my family.
Once I was finished, I walked through the cemetery, filled with my family's history. Many of my Beaman ancestors are buried there—my grandpa, great-grandparents, great-great-grandparents, great-granduncles, and others. This year, my little cousins joined me, their curious questions breaking the silence as they pointed to the headstones and asked about the names carved into them. The 9-year-old asked me, "Why do you like going to the cemetery?" I told her I like to because I am a genealogist. Then she asked, "What's a genealogist?" I said, "It's a person who studies family history. She grinned and said, "That's what you should be!" The moment made me smile, knowing I was passing pieces of our family’s story to the next generation.
Ultimately, I feel a warm embrace and a sense of belonging when I visit Shiloh, no matter the time of year, but it's even greater when I come for the reunion. When September comes again next year, I'll step back in time for a couple of hours at the little brown church in the Wildwood.