“There’s a church in the valley in the wildwood. No lovelier place in the dell. No spot is so dear to my childhood, as the little brown church in the vale. Oh come, come, come, come. Come to the church in the wildwood. Oh, come to the church in the dell. No spot is so dear to my childhood as the little brown church in the dell.” – William S. Pitts
Adventures with Pepper: Day 27
It was with a bit of reluctance that I left Carthage Gap and the family that had adopted me, but I was on the road in time to watch the sun come up.
It never did. While the weather was calm, it was a completely overcast day.
But the roadside scenery, when I had time to look at it, more than made up for the missing sun.
But it was a hard day’s drive on Highway 50, through the Appalachian foothills, and the road got most of my attention. The route was mostly narrow, mostly winding, and the primary two directions it traveled was either up or down.
It wouldn’t have been too bad if I were going my usual 100 to 150 miles, but I was facing a journey of 270 miles. The distance wasn’t by choice, but because I couldn’t find a decent campground to spend the night until I reached Front Royal, Virginia.
I’m not sure why, but I suspect it was the many church steeples I was seeing as I drove through West Virginia that caused me to start singing “The Church in the Wildwood” to Pepper. I hope she is tone-deaf because I couldn’t carry a tune if my life depended on it. Usually the only time I ever sing is when I’m driving, and usually only because I want to stay awake.

After many twists and turns and fall colors around most of them, I ended my day at Front Royal, Virginia. — Photo by Pat Bean
The hymn, written by Iowa school teacher William S. Pitts in 1857, was my grandmother’s favorite song.
When I did some research this morning, because I wondered if I had the lyrics right, I discovered an amazing story in the Des Moines Register about the song.
The article said Pitts wrote the song following a coach ride that stopped in Bradford, Iowa, where he saw a wooded valley in which he envisioned a little brown church.
Five years later, when he returned to that same Cedar River valley, the church he had imagined had been built, down to its brown color.
. During the winter of 1863-64, Pitts taught a singing class at Bradford Academy, and had his class sing the song at the dedication of the new church in 1864. This was the first time the song was sung by anyone apart from Pitts himself, according to the newspaper article.
The second amazing thing is that the little brown church still exists. It’s a popular tourist attraction in Nashua, Iowa.
Interesting story behind that song, and what a wonderful autumn photo !
Thanks Wazeau. I hope all your birdies and cats have a great day.
The Little Brown Church in the Wildwood was frequently heard in my home but I didn’t know there was really such a church. Thanks for this post, Pat, and all the others. I enjoy following your travels.
On another subject, I saw the following announcement in the email newsletter sent out by our local library. Since you’re in the Appalachians, how about a drive south to North Carolina. There’s not much around here in the way of rv parks, but you’d be welcome to use my driveway.
“HILLSBOROUGH, NC –The Orange County Main Library will host a writing class led by local author James Maxey. The class entitled, “How to Write Fast: Tips and Tricks for Blasting Through Writer’s Block and Jamming Out 10,000+ Words a Week,” will be held at 10: 30 a.m. on Saturday, October 27.
James Maxey is the author of a dozen novels and scores of short stories. His first novel took him two years to write. Lately, he’s been able to complete two novels in a year, and finished the first draft of his novel, Burn Baby Burn, in only a week. With National Novel Writing Month (November) fast approaching, James will share the tricks and techniques that have increased not only the quantity of his output, but the quality as well.”
Thanks for the offer Barbara. Gypsy Lee sits quite well in driveways when ever she can. But my travel plans are to drive through Smokey Mt. National Park, stop in Nashville for lunch with my editor, the drive the Natchez Trace. And my kids in Texas are expecting me for Thanksgiving.
I understand, Pat. My sister and I traveled the Trace in April 2011. A lovely park -Tomishingo State Park – in Georgia, I think was our best place to stay. My photos don’t compare to yours, but you can see a picture of the lake at Tomishingo at http://amullabout.wordpress.com/2011/04/05/stiff-bodies-but-satisfied-souls/