On Sunday evening, February 17, 1952, the service at Prays Mill Baptist Church was in progress when the lights flickered off and on four times. Each backout declared a death. Pastor Carl J. Buice was preaching when our next-door neighbor, Mr. Renzo Duren, exploded through the door and lunged down the aisle. One gallus on his overalls was fastened, the other bounced on his back. His house slippers slapped naked heels. His chin trembled and his voice cracked as he told us about the casualties. Four members of the Chapman family, our neighbors, had been electrocuted. Nine year old Ralph was the sole survivor. A field at the corner of Big A Road and Kilroy Lane had caught fire. The three Chapman boys, who lived nearby raced to extinguish the grass fire. They assumed a careless smoker had caused it. But a 6,900 volt line had slipped from its anchors and sagged into the field. It grazed the ground and started the fire. The circuit breaker failed. The wire was hot. Charles, the fifteen year-old, stumbled into the cable. Thirteen year-old Bryan tried to save his brother. Both were killed. Ralph attempted to pull Bryan off the wire. The power burned his hands but slammed him free. The father and mother, Tom and Esther, heard Ralph’s screams and rushed into the field. They were killed in a vain attempt to rescue the boys.
On Friday, Douglas County Sentinel writer, Marie Matthews wrote, “We trust time, love and sympathetic understanding will help him overcome the shock and grief experienced so early in childhood.” They didn’t. Ralph endured a family squabble over custody that had to be settled in court. The tornado of tragedy that swirled around the orphan embittered him toward God. He early sought solace in alcohol and drugs. By age thirteen he was an alcoholic. Trouble trailed Ralph into manhood. Demonic twins, alcohol and drugs, swindled him out of hope and happiness. He and his wife lost three babies in a row. He was sinking in a sea of sorrow. Then at age 30 a revolution reversed his life when he responded to a sermon entitled. “There’s Hope for the Hopeless.” Jesus Christ swept into his life. A surge of peace cleansed, calmed, and changed him. His testimony was that he never touched drugs, alcohol, or even said a swear word after that encounter. For over 30 years he was a busy minister in Carroll County. He served as chaplain for the county jail, the county prison, the sheriff ’s department and the board of commissioners. He was responsible for 16 services each week. Ralph identified with Psalm 40:2: He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings. On Sunday October, 2008, Ralph was promoted to heaven where he worships by sight the one whom he loved and served by faith for so many years. The victim of tragedies became the victor over trials. “…thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
The tornado of tradegy that swirled around the orphan... I went with my dad to the scene. The stifling smell of death hung over the field. Sheet shrouded bodies awaited J. Cowan Whitley, the undertaker. My eleven-year-old mind clouded with gloom. Life had never seemed so uncertain nor eternity so sure as they did that somber Sunday evening. On Wednesday, a throng, estimated at 2,000 assembled for the funeral at the Flint Hill Methodist Church. Most couldn’t get seats. Four caskets lined the front of the small auditorium. Reverends C.H. Smith, Selby Allsworth and Reuben Baxter read Scripture and tried to comfort friends and neighbors—and Ralph.
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by Neal Beard, a retired pastor living in Douglasville, Georgia. He writes history / humor about the rural northwest Georgia community where he grew up in the 40s and 50s.
