Carolina, and reunited with his wife, Winnifred, and his two children. Because of the injuries he had sustained in the war, some of his slaves stayed on the farm to help him, despite the fact that they had been freed.
The year after the war ended, J. J.’s third child, Earl Van Dorn Best, was born, named after Major General Earl Van Dorn. Dorn, J. J.’s hero, had fought gallantly in the war but had suffered defeat at the Battle of Pea Ridge, in Arkansas. This battle had been a turning point, because it was here that the South lost control of the Mississippi River to the Union soldiers.
In 1880, J. J. donated some of the Best land for the construction of a new Methodist church and then more land across the dirt road to be used as the church cemetery. That cemetery is known today as Old Zion Cemetery, but back then the locals referred to it as the Best Cemetery.
Like his father, Earl embraced the southern tradition of tobacco farming, and he spent his childhood working the fertile land. As an adult, his knowledge of farming and his business acumen made him one of the wealthiest citizens in the small community of Galivants Ferry. In the late 1800s, Earl served as his pastor’s right-hand man and confidant, and in 1902 he was elected Horry County superintendent of schools.
Earl eventually married Anna Jordan, and the couple had eleven children, among them my grandfather Earl Van Best.
Then tragedy struck.
Earl Van Dorn Best was shot and killed by a former slave in 1907, when my grandfather was two years old, and Anna suddenly found herself a widow with a brood of children to feed.
The stories told to him about his father steered my grandfather into the ministry, and he would remain committed to God for the rest of his life. As a teenager, long before he had any formal training in the ministry, Earl became one of Bishop Francis Asbury’s circuit riders, who traveled from town to town on horseback preaching to anyone in Horry County, South Carolina, who would listen to their message of salvation. Earl later left his family home to attend the University of South Carolina, putting himself through school on a preacher’s meager salary. When he met the pretty Miss Gertrude McCormac, from Mullins, South Carolina, Earl fell in love with the talented girl, who could play the piano so well he knew the angels in heaven must be singing along. But Gertrude was not an easy girl to understand. She said she loved him, and Earl believed her, but when he could not be at her beck and call, Gertrude would replace him without a thought. It was a lesson she would teach him over and over again during the years they spent together.
On November 9, 1929, my grandmother wrote my grandfather a letter, explaining how grateful she was that he had recently traveled to visit her. She mentioned that she would soon be attending an oyster roast and she wished he could be there, but she understood how difficult it was for him to make the long trip to see her every day. “I want you to understand me now beforehand and know that my intentions will always be for the building up rather than the breaking down,” she wrote, before adding a postscript on November 10 that read, “Had a very good time at the oyster roast. Nick was kind. He brought me back. Wish you could have been with me instead.”
Her ploy worked.
Earl hurried back to Mullins to ask Gertrude’s father, Duncan, for her hand in marriage. Duncan gave the earnest young man his blessing.
“Will you marry me?” Earl implored, kneeling gallantly before Gertrude in the parlor as she reclined on a sofa.
Gertrude pouted prettily and thought for a moment. “I would love to,” she said, smiling into her fiancé’s eyes.
Gertrude was impressed by the minister’s intelligence. He was the most motivated and educated man she knew, even if he was a bit boring. The young woman was aware of the respect she would gain as the wife of a minister. It was a very appealing prospect.
Everything had
Jenna McCarthy and Carolyn Evans