When we say it’s a one-room church, we’re serious.
We celebrated our 20th anniversary yesterday, which seems impossible since we only just met, fell in love, and decided to spend our lives together! But here we are, a chunk of LIFE under our belts. I think you could say our wedding was pretty uniquely Appalachian with some special, “rural” touches. I say it was perfect.
We got married at Laurel Fork United Methodist Church in West Virginia. I’m the fourth or fifth generation in my family to attend the little, white church on the hill and it was where I wanted to pledge my heart to my husband for life.
We invited our friends and family, but didn’t expect many to make the trek to Nowhere, WV, for the nuptials. Those who did travel from SC (where we lived then) were encouraged to use the facilities at their hotel before coming to the church 30 minutes away in Laurel Fork.
Ha-ha, they thought, a West Virginia joke. Nope. Even today the only bathroom is an outhouse. Of course, some adventurous souls might have enjoyed the experience, but I’m pretty sure everyone held it until the reception back in town.
When I was a kid, we actually had TWO outhouses at church. One for the ladies and one for the gentlemen. The ladies had two stalls (fancy) each with a separate door for privacy. It was painted white and tucked back in the trees behind the church for discretion. Unfortunately, it’s leafy, protected eaves seemed to be prime spots for wasps to build their nests, but you often have to sacrifice something for the sake of your dignity.
The men’s outhouse was a much roomier one-seater with an open end that served as an, ahhh, urinal. It was closer to the doors of the church, which often made it preferable when I was young. The wooden seat was worn remarkably smooth and there was always a stack of church bulletins in place of toilet paper. Waste not, want not.
And honestly? It wasn’t unpleasant to use. Oh, it wasn’t great on a January morning, but in general, it served just fine. It smelled of worn wood as much as, well, what you’d expect, and members of the church maintained both outhouses well. MUCH nicer than any port-o-let I’ve ever been in.
Outhouses have become something of a redneck or hillbilly joke, but I’ve used them and they’re no joke. They’re just the best way to deal with a necessity in a place with no running water. And trust me, if your power went out (along with the well pump), you’d be glad to have one.
And there is no photo of Sarah in her wedding dress peeking out the door of the outhouse, although it was a thought in my mind. 😉 As soon as I started to read this, I thought of our dire needs at Burla’s burial…
Oh for an outhouse that day! No one locks up the outhouse so visitors can’t get in . . .
Yup, outhouses are alive and well–and usually kept pretty clean. Though nowadays I’m thankful they’ll usually include a big bottle of hand sanitizer in thre, though! Lovely church!!!
Hand sanitizer–how modern!
I remember that outhouse well, but of course, I remember the outhouse at home also. I also remember no running water, in the house, and the pump outside. From those days to being connected to the world 24/7. The world has changed SO much in my lifetime, and I’m only 55.
I know . . . some days I just want to yell SLOW DOWN!!
I love this story and LOVE the photo! What a gorgeous bride!
The grinningest bride ever!
I remember that day so well. It just can’t be 20 years, can it?
Sure doesn’t feel like it!
Love this story Sarah. Beautiful little church! I recall using a “scary” outhouse every summer when camping with family reunion. Lots of potty stories in our family over the years!
Potty stories are always the best for laughs!