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Author Topic: Musician Horror Stories for Your Enjoyment  (Read 1051 times)

Offline Valeden

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Musician Horror Stories for Your Enjoyment
« on: August 06, 2014, 02:41:44 PM »


HORROR MUSICIAN TESTIMONIES"The helping hand"

Back in the 80's, the State Youth Congress of the COGIC was held in Daytona Beach, Florida. This was for the Eastern Florida Jurisdiction. I took my Hammond B2 to provide a good organ sound for the services. On the big day, the services were relocated in a public auditorium. So I moved my organ from School Street COGIC to the High School auditorium where the services were being held. I didn't own an organ dolly so we lifted it by hand. This preacher came out with a handtruck and insisted we use it. I tried to tell him it wouldn't work but he would not let up. So we gave in to his idea. Lifting the organ on the handtruck put too much weight on the side of two legs of the organ. However, things went fine. That is, until he hit a crack in the sidewalk. When he hit that crack, the organ cracked. The body of that Hammond cracked and began to fall completely apart on all four sides. When that preacher saw the damage, he turned and left that hand truck, walking away just as fast as he could without saying a word. I stood there sad and brokenhearted over my organ. After a moment, with care, I pushed all the loose joints back together, and picked the organ up by hand again. We took it inside and put it in place. I plugged it in and cranked it up and it worked like a champ. Hammond can take it. It is a really tough instrument.


 

"Hook me Up with a Ram in the Bush/Organ"


Back in the 70's, I purchaced a Hammond B2 with which to serve the Lord. I would take it to conventions, workshops, weddings, street services and revivals. Rev. Cooper, the father of Rev. Marc Cooper, asked me to come and provide organ music for his revival services being held in his store front church in Miami, Florida.

How could I know what I would experience at these services? A young minister, Minister Melvin Goggins attended the services one night and asked if he could play my organ. Now, I don't believe in being selfish, so I slid over and let Melvin play  . Normally, that wouldn't be a problem. But you see, Melvin has only three fingers and they were on his right hand. His left hand was amputated and replaced with a hook  . So he got pretty good at playing triads with his right hand and slapping the keys with his hook rather than playing chords with his left hand. 

The service got better and better while Melvin played faster and faster hitting the keys harder and harder with his hook.  That is, until he began to burst the keys out. I sat there watching this man destroy my lower manual with his hook and he would not stop. I thought to myself, "He got to see what he is doing!  How can I stop him without hurting his feelings?"  So, to get his attention, I started tapping him on his arm to bring it to his attention. He still didn't stop. He couldn't feel me touching him because he had no left arm. His arm was artificial as well. He was tearing up the wood frame in front of the keys and bursting out black and white keys.  So I tapped him on his right shoulder and said, "Melvin, your breaking the keys!!!"  He knew all along.  He simply didn't know how to stop and face the damages.  I could tell he felt bad about it, but he never appologized either. Crying or Very sad

In that same revival, you would think having the keys bursted out would be enough. But, no!    The deacon of the church and I had a technician come and replace five destroyed keys the following day. Of course, the church paid for it. I didn't have to ask them to do so and neither would I have asked. But the next night we were haveing a high time in the Lord as I was playing shouting music and the saints were rejoiceing.  There were seekers on the alter and people were rejoiceing and danceing.

This really big woman was shouting and ran across the church and directly into the back of my organ.  Upon impact, the whole top of the organ popped off and flew into my lap. The woman simply turned and danced off into another direction while I sat there looking down into the guts of my organ. Crying or Very sad




 

"Cast The First Stone"

New Bethel A.M.E. Church in Clewiston, Florida hired me as their organist just before time for the change of pastors. Methodist churches change pastors almost every year. I agreed to be their musician and in a couple of weeks, the new pastor showed up for duty; Rev. Jones. He was well known there because he already resided in town and was a school teacher and a well known homosexual. I had heard a lot of gossup about him in the short time I was in town, but took it to be idle talk. When he began to pastor, I could tell that he was very knowledgeable of God's Word and was very good at quotes from the scriptures.

One sunday, after the Sunday morning services, several of the leading ladies of the church were standing near me in the rear of the church and were makeing plans to get rid of him. I couldn't understand why they chose to plot agains't the new pastor and not give him any chance to prove himself approved of God. So I went directly to him and told him the things I heard and who was saying them. I then told him, "If you require me to repeat it again in their presence, I will."

He then invited me into his parsonage, set me down at the kitchen table and said, "...Don't worry about it." He went on to say that he had sermons already prepared like, "He without sin cast the first stone" and several others. Then he continued on to say that his boyfriend was in jail. He said, "He asked me to have a baby for him." And his answer to his boyfriend was, "I would if I could But I can't." As if that wasn't enough, he began to say that he had a finer figure than any woman. I couldn't get out of there fast enough and prayed no one saw my escape.  He continued preaching there every sunday til' he died of aids two years later.



 

"A Clean Sweep"


You wouldn't expect to be mistreated by sanctified, Holy Ghost filled and fire baptised saints, but guess what! In eastern Florida's jurisdiction of the COGIC, the Youth Congress was starting in Miami. The president of the convention asked me to be the convention's musician for the week and I agreed. He promised to give me something without saying what it would be, but I trusted him.

These services were being held in the Bishop's church and the Bishop was sore displeased with the filth left in his church the first night of service. So the president of the convention came to me and asked me to clean the church each night after service; I agreed without complaint because I was more than willing to serve in any capacity.

So, every day and night I was on time to play for the day and the evening services. And when everybody finished converseing after the services and had gone home, I searched the church to find where they kept their brooms and utensils for cleaning. After service every night, I started in the choir stand and swept the whole church, picking up fans and trash and carried it all out the front door and dumped the trash. When I would finish, I would be the only soul there and had to lock the doors of the church. Now, this was not my church.
Finally on the last day, Sunday, I followed the same procedures. This was the biggest day and there was much more filth. I worked hard all day without a break. When I finished, I looked around and I was alone again. The people from all over the state had gone home and there was no one to pay me or give me an offering.


 

"Throw me Overboard, I've got a hideing place"


I once lived in a small town called "Pahokee", Florida which was about five miles north of "Belle Glades".  I was employed by the local cable television company as an installer / technician.  It was a bright and sunny day but not too hot when I had climbed this power pole and hang there about 25 ft. off of the ground to hang a cable drop and install service for a customer.  I heard a woman calling but ignored the call asumeing nobody knew me in this area.  But the woman was persistant and I looked down to see this nice looking young lady beckoning me, asking, "Are you the piano player?"  I said, "Yes!"  She says to me, "Come follow me.  My pastor want to talk to you."  "But I'm working", I said.  But she would not take no for an answer.  I climbed down and followed her to her church where her pastor awaited our return.

He quized me about my ability to play and asked me to audition for him then and there.  I did not like this situation but cooperated with him.  He then asked me how much I would charge to play for his church.  I answered him, "I don't charge churches but I except what ever they give."  He hired me and said that he would let me know later what they will give me.  He then excused me and allowed me to go back to work.

I gave that Missionary Baptist Church service for a month and heard nothing from the pastor about pay.  So finally one sunday morning after service, I decided to ask the pastor if they decided to give me anything.  It just so happened, this was the last day of the pastor's anniversary and a visiting church from West Palm Beach, Florida was coming at 3:00pm to finalize the celebrations.  But when I asked if the church had decided what they were going to do for me, he became very angry and demanded, "Take your organ and get out of this church before I have the deacons throw it out!!!"  I was so very surprised and hurt.  But I packed my equipment and carried it all out as the pastor demanded.  But I came back in the church.

When the visiting church arrived, they were ushered to a nearby school cafeteria for dinner before the 3:00pm services.  Mean while, I stood on the steps of the church talking to the musician from the other church.  After a while, the pastors and congregations of both churches began entering the church to start the services, so the other musician and I turned to enter as well.  That is when the pastor turned back, took hold of the lapel of my coat and attempted to throw me down the stairs and demanding while cursing at me, "Don't follow me in the church.  get out!!!"  But I stood firm and he saw that I wouldn't be thrown if I don't want to be thrown down and out of the church.

The people looked at me as if I had done something to the pastor.  For, surely he would not do such a thing without just cause.  When he released me, I went in the church and sat down in the back while being stared at like a trouble maker and the enemy of God.  Soon, I walked up to the front and sat on the very front row.  When the visiting pastor discovered I was an ordained elder, he had me ushered up to the pulpit.  Now the musician is sitting in the pupit with the pastor that rejected him and tried to throw him out of the church without cause.  Of course, when he hired me, he didn't know I was a preacher.  That church gave him $10,000 that sunday and fired him in about two months.  The next pastor knew me and asked me to come and play for him and I went back.


 

That's our song!!!


A few years ago, I served as the musician for Friendship Missionary Baptist Church in Clewiston, Florida.  Rev. White was the pastor at the time.  He was a young man who wanted to be a sport rather than a family man and pastor.  I was their full time musician.  However, I worked with other churches and groups before I started with Friendship and I found time to continue doing so.

I made a mistake that greatly offened Rev. White.  I taught his senior choir a song that I taught to another choir in the community.  When he heard Mother Woodard's choir sing a song that his choir sang, he was fit to be tied.  He truely chastised me for teaching their song to another choir.  It seemed not to matter that the song belonged to James Cleveland.


 

Touch not my anointed...


I was a contractor.  I was hired by the telephone company to install and repair business and data communication systems.  I worked mainly with Key and PBX Systems.  I thought I would be working in Tampa, Florida, but they sent me to the Ft. Myers, Florida office who then transfered me to Clewiston, Florida.  I had occasion to pass through Clewiston before.  But I never had reason to stop.  It was a small town which took less than a minute to enter from the east side and exit on the west.  But now I find myself working here.  First order of things is to find the black community, find the Church Of God In Christ and the deacon of the church, Dea. Dudley, who is suppose to greet me and help me settle in.

I found the church and the deacon's home.  But he was at work.  I decided to ride around and see what the black community was like.  As I traveled down a street, not knowing what street it might be, I heard people calling on the name of the Lord.  "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus Jesus, Jesus!!!!"  Somebody was crying out to the Lord, but who and why?  I turned around and discovered that the cries were coming from a mason hall.



I parked my van and went inside to join in the prayer and discover what was happening.  It was a fine group of young adults.  Tall and strong young men.  And beautiful young women.  About twenty of them, crying out to God.  When the tarrying service was over, they began to pray.  I felt I was blessed by being in the midst of them.  My greatest surprise came when the prayer was over.  They all got up, organized themselves in a constructive seating arrangement and began choir rehearsal.  There was a piano and a organ in disrepair.  But there was no musician.  Yet they sang with power and with the anointing in the Spirit.

Individuals would glance at me, questioning themselves who I might be, but no one said anything to me.  Finally I asked, "Do ya'll mind if I play the piano for you?"  Thats how I met some of the greatest singers in central Florida.  But they were under the teaching of a female pastor in an independent apostolic



church which was growing by leaps and bounds.  They were witnessing in the streets and conducting street services.  They built a new church building with their own hands and the Lord added to the Church such as should be saved.  But the Church Of God In Christ was anemic.  All my life I had been taught that women can't lead God's Church.  So I decided to draw all those young saints over to the Church Of God In Christ.  My pastor, Elder Hulen, instructed me to leave them alone.  But I was determined to do it and use my music to start the draw and Bible study to finish it.  After about a month of winning their confidence, the Lord spoke to me in a dream.  His message was a short merciful warning.  The Lord's words to me were, "Leave them alone!  If they come to the Church Of God In Christ, they will die."

Realizing I was not acting within the will of God, I did an about face.  Not only was I out of the will of God, but if I was succesful, the people I was trying to draw would die.  Whether it be a spiritual or natural death matters not.  Death would not be good.  I went to their pastor, Mother Woodard, to tell her everything I was doing and what God said to me.  I testified in their church service that sunday morning and confessed everything and told them what God said.  But most of all I decided that if God is with them, I'm going to be with them too.  Because I want to be where Jesus is.  The youth choir of "Tabernacle Of Witness" became the best youth choir in central Florida.

 






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