I went home Saturday.
By that, I mean I went to Rocky Branch.
If you’re new to these parts, let me fill you in. Rocky Branch is a small community in Union Parish about 45 miles from Ruston. It’s where I grew up in the 1950s and 1960s.
It’s also where I was introduced to the wonders of four-part a cappella harmony – especially the alto part. I discovered alto in the ninth grade – that would make the year about 1967 – and my life was never the same.
By that, I mean it was vastly improved.
Yes, this past Saturday I went home to Rocky Branch. And I sang with my Southern A’Chord Chorus in the Rocky Branch Gospel Jubilee.
The event was held in what used to be Rocky Branch Elementary School, but what is now the Rocky Branch Community Center. After school consolidation a couple of decades ago, the building was abandoned for a time but now has a new lease on life.
I haven’t lived full-time in Rocky Branch since 1970, when I enrolled at Louisiana Tech, but I would often go back for visits to see my parents, until Mama’s death in 2000. Since then, I’ve mostly just driven through once in a while and gone to nearby churches for funerals.
But going back to sing a cappella harmony in front of an audience? That’s a horse of a different color. Or in this case, a hymn with a different harmony.
Frankly, I was hoping that this performance wouldn’t be a repeat of the one my sister and I were slated to give at the school talent show when I was around 7 years old. Mama had chosen the song “High Hopes” for us to sing together, and at just the right spot, we were supposed to pop a balloon with a pin. Maybe you remember the song. It concludes:
“A problem’s just a toy balloon
“They’ll be bursting soon
“They’re just bound to go, ‘Pop!’
“Oops! There goes another problem ker-
“Oops! There goes another problem ker-
“Oops! There goes another problem ker-
“Plop! Ker–plop!”
Well, we got on that stage, and I wouldn’t utter a word, wouldn’t sing a note – and sure wasn’t going to pop any balloon. I think I was still shaken from the time Daddy threw some firecrackers onto our front porch. I’m still incredibly jumpy.
What I was really worried about for this past Saturday’s performance was becoming emotional when I had to say my part of the script. I mean, I had to reminisce about both Mama and Daddy’s being principal of the school, about my being a pupil there during first and second grade, and about seeing long-time friends out there in the audience that day.
But thankfully, I did fine. Pretty much the only malfunction was my voice cracking on the fourth note of a solo – and, later, accidentally inventing a new harmony where I was supposed to be resting. (I don’t think anyone noticed except the director.)
Hopefully, Mama would be proud. And Mr. Broadus Smith, the longtime Rocky Branch Church of Christ song leader. And Kelton Howard, one of the people I’m most looking forward to singing in heaven with. And a host of other songsters from the Rocky Branch church. Somehow, I think they all were looking down and giving their blessing that day.
Standing on that plot of land where Mama and Daddy once led, I felt the echo of their lives. As our final chords faded, I thought of them, of Mr. Broadus and Kelton; of my now-departed high school classmate Freddy Armstrong, who helped found the Community Center. All part of the soundtrack of my life.
Going home again reminded me that God doesn’t waste a single note. He takes our cracked voices, our changed melodies and blends them into something beautiful. Maybe that’s what I felt that afternoon – heaven leaning close, the old familiar harmonies meeting the new.
One day, we’ll join the everlasting song – where voices long missed rise again, and the harmony never fades.
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Sallie Rose Hollis lives in Ruston and retired from Louisiana Tech as an associate professor of journalism and the assistant director of the News Bureau. She can be contacted at sallierose@mail.com.
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