IS IT TRUE WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT DIXIE?

by Mort McMillan

Many of Bob Walkup’s sermons were song title sermons. It was almost a trademark of his to begin by quoting the words of a song familiar to his hearers. One of these, which Bob preached in several places, was “Is It True What They Say About Dixie?” This also was a sermon in the style of the prophet Amos, gaining the attention and approval of the hearers, and then, suddenly turning to challenge them. Regrettably, no printed or taped copies of this sermon seem to have survived. So, I am reconstructing it from memory.

Bob first used this at the meeting of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, U.S., at Montreat, North Carolina, in 1949. He and my father, an elder from Monroeville, Alabama, were commissioners of the Presbytery of Mobile to that assembly. One of the issues before the assembly was the dissolving of the Snedecor Memorial Synod, a separate, segregated, black synod, and the establishing of black presbyteries within the other synods. During the debate on this issue, several commissioners had spoken against the dissolution, using time-worn arguments like the importance of maintaining the separation of the races for the benefit of all. Then, Bob spoke in favor, telling the assembly that he was known in his presbytery as “a juke box preacher,” and using the song title to begin his statement.

Bob’s speech apparently helped to carry the day, and the action to begin the process of dissolving the separate synod was approved. My father was moved by Bob’s words and asked him to preach on this later that summer when Bob was supplying the pulpit in the Monroeville Presbyterian Church. This was the occasion when I heard it.

Bob began by quoting the song, “Is It True What They Say About Dixie?”, made popular by Al Jolson.

“Is it true what they say about Dixie?
“Does the sun really shine all the time?
“Do the sweet magnolias blossom at everybody’s door?
“Do folks keep eating possum till they can’t eat no more?”

From this, Bob moved to some of the good things that were said about the South: the generally favorable climate, the good hunting and fishing, some delectable regional dishes, the strong sense of home and family and place; and the reputation for gentility and courtesy and hospitality. The congregation obviously enjoyed this, smiling and nodding in agreement.

Abruptly, Bob shifted to other less pleasant things said about Dixie: to things said by Hubert Humphrey at the Democratic Convention in 1948, criticisms raised by Eleanor Roosevelt, things written in Time and Life magazines, or expressed in statements of the Federal Council of Churches (predecessor of the National Council of Churches). He mentioned charges of racial discrimination, injustice, oppression, unfairness and unkindness. This brought a change of mood in the congregation. People were frowning and sighing, shaking their heads and acknowledging, “Yes, they said all those bad things about us!”

Then, Bob paused and asked, “Well, what about this? Is it true what they say about Dixie?” He paused again.

In a softer tone, he continued. “Let me answer that by telling you of a recent experience of mine. I was back in Senatobia, Mississippi, where I did much of my growing up. One afternoon, I was coming out of the Post Office where I met a black man and his little boy walking up the sidewalk. sidewalk. The boy was eating an ice cream cone.”

“Just as I got to them,” Bob continued, “a dog on the edge of the street began barking very loudly. The little boy was frightened by this and reached to grab his father’s legs. In his confusion, however,” Bob said, “he grabbed me instead and smeared his ice cream down one leg of my pants. In an instant, the man was down on his knees, whipping out his handkerchief, wiping the ice cream from my pants, and saying in an urgent, pleading tone: ‘Cap’n, I’m so sorry he’s gone and done this! I’ll pay to have your pants cleaned! Please, Cap’n, I know he didn’t mean to do it! You won’t hurt him, will you, Cap’n? He’s just a little bitty boy and all!”

Bob paused again to let that sink in and then continued, “I looked into the faces of the boy and his father and saw fear in both of them. The little boy was afraid of the dog who had barked. And, the father was afraid of what the white man would do to the little black boy who had dared to smear ice cream on his pants!”

Then, Bob concluded the sermon. “Now, brothers and sisters, as long as there is fear like that on a black father’s face, it’s true what they say about Dixie! God forgive us, it’s true!”

I remember the congregation’s being very quiet going out. I do not think that anyone said, “Nice little sermon!” or “I enjoyed the sermon!” or anything like that. While I, like many others, cannot remember being converted to Christianity, cannot recall a time when I did not know I was a Christian and a Presbyterian, I can remember a conversion experience on the subject of race. It came when I heard Bob Walkup preach this sermon, “Is It True What They Say About Dixie?” in the summer of 1949.