Southern Sisters 2 - Lazarus’ Dirty Laundry
Date: 10-15-2024
So many times I hear people say, I’d like to go back… Back in time when things were simpler. When time moved at a slower pace. When people were different. When they enjoyed the time it took to get to know one another on an old porch swing. When a handshake was better than a signature on a contract. When a person’s word was as good as done. Before you heard, “Take a number and we’ll be right with you.” Before automated answering systems. Before big development. Before the hustle and bustle. Before the rat race. Before the constant ticking of the clock. Let’s go back in time to Winter Garden, Florida in the late 1950’s as told to me by THE SISTERS seated around that Sunday night dinner table.
Winter Garden was very different back in the day. Everyone knew everyone, and no matter who you were, you felt like a local celebrity. Of course there were the founding families: the Ropers, the Reams, the Dunaways, and others; but no matter who you were you were greeted with a down home smile and the warmest Southern charm melting even the hardest of hearts.
Close your eyes for just a moment. Take a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Do you smell it? The intoxicating fragrance of orange blossoms fluttering through your bedroom window as you drift off to dreamland. Do you feel it? The cool, refreshing lake breeze flapping through the curtains on a sweltering Autumn night. Do you hear it? The clamorous cheers of the crowd as the Lakeview Red Devils score another touchdown against the Apopka Blue Darters taking their victory by force.
Long before the West Orange Bike Trail was a twinkle in a commissioner’s eye, there was a working railroad that came whistling down Plant Street called the Orange Belt Railroad. The churning vibration of the locomotive carried the precious cargo of our destiny. Of our dreams. As the conductor called out, “All Aboard!” it signaled the cadence of our continuous neverending faith. Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God. We walk by faith and not by sight. Father, we will chase after You evermore marching in lockstep momentum pressing towards the mark.
My grandparents, Jesse and Beulah, marched to His momentum from the hills of Tennessee to the sumptuous land of citrus looking for a better life for a family of ten: my grandparents, their seven children, and my maternal great-grandfather, Pa Cummings. They found a place to live and a small business all rolled into one settling into a mom and pop storefront with an attached home on the corner of Story Road and Coke Street in the heart of Burches’ Quarters. Yes you may remember it. During the 1940s-1960s, our family owned the old Bradley Market that burned to the ground a few years ago.
Jesse and Beulah owned several small convenience stores over the years, along with working other jobs, to support their large family. Granddaddy worked in the citrus industry, Grandmother worked at the hospital in the laundry, and the children took turns taking care of the store when my grandparents were working outside the home.
Down towards the end of Coke Street lived the meanest man in town named ‘ole Brother Lazarus. As you can imagine, he lived by himself because of his grouchy, uncontrollable temper and his unique ability to burn down every bridge in sight. Everyone used to cross over to the other side of the street as they saw him walking through town. No one tried to converse with him. He was on his own. He wanted it that way, and he took pride in people running from his presence.
When ‘ole Brother Lazarus wasn’t working at Heller Brothers causing chaos and confusion, you could usually find him on Lake Apopka fishing for bass. The lake was the quintessential tourist destination with its vibrant fishing center and marina. A nature lovers’ paradise, as people gathered around the piers and docks to dillydally and daydream about tomorrow. But one thing was for certain, if you met up with Lazarus you made an abrupt turnaround or else you faced the wrath of his insults and venom.
Occasionally ‘ole Brother Lazarus would come into my grandparents store to buy a few things on his way home from the lake. It was always the same argument on a different day between him and Jesse.
My granddaddy would always ring up his order, “Lazarus, Beulah and the kids said you were mean to ‘em again. You know I ain’t gonna have you being mean to my family. This better be the last time you bring your hate in here harassing us.”
My grandmother was always close by, “Jesse.”
Lazarus threw his money at Jesse, spewing some colorful language not appropriate for God-fearing people to repeat, racing out the door.
Jesse turned to Beulah full of anger and aggression, “That better be the last time Lazarus comes in here. I mean it. If he knows what’s good for him, it better be the last time.”
‘Jesse, you know we have to love everyone if we’re gonna go to heaven. Even mean ‘ole Brother Lazarus. We have to love everyone.” Beulah said, calming him with a hug and a smile.
“I know, Beulah. I know. It’s either love everyone or bust hell wide open. I’ll try my best to do better next time.”
Beulah silently prayed, “Lord, do whatever it takes to save Lazarus. He needs you.”
The next morning as Beulah left for work, she could tell this wasn’t another ordinary day. It was going to be quite different. She could feel it. The Lord had something incredibly wonderful in store for her and she was ready.
“Lord, I’ll follow You wherever You go, and I’ll do whatever You want me to do. I promise. You always come first to me. Always.”
Each morning Beulah loved to walk through town on her way to work making the turn on Plant Street from Park Avenue; always giving herself extra time to chat with anyone who might be shopping at Leader Department Store or coming out of the Edgewater Hotel. She loved telling people about Jesus witnessing to anyone who would listen.
Turning left at First Baptist, she took a moment to thank the Good Lord for the beautiful day He had made, “Lord, thank you for waking me up for another day. Thank you for the sun shining down on me reminding me of Jesus. Thank you for my salvation, my family, and all of the many blessings you’ve given me. You are My Faithful Father and a Wonderful Friend. I will love You all the days of my life.”
As she came closer to the corner of Dillard and Division streets, the West Orange Memorial Hospital came into full view. It took up the entire city block. The building’s main entry was on the west side while the Emergency Room was on the east side. It was such a blessing to have a hospital closeby. Everyone took such pride in knowing they didn’t have to go into Orlando if they needed medical attention. It was a symbol of progress for our little town.
In the lobby area hung large pictures of the doctors in their traditional white coats: Dr. Bradford, Dr. Carter, Dr. Gleason, Dr. Scanlon, and a few more. Times were clearly different back then. These doctors, with their undeniable bedside manner, were a part of anyone’s family instantly; making house calls and lending a helping hand whenever they could.
As Beulah made her way to the elevator, she was ready for whatever the day held. As the doors closed behind her, she pressed the “B” and felt the immediate descent into the basement where she spent most of her time.
Across from the morgue, at the end of the hall corridor on the right was a large laundry room. As Beulah entered the doorway, there were several washing machines and dryers on both walls to her left and right. Wash. Dry. Repeat. Wash. Dry. Repeat. The continuous cycle of her day.
Along the wall directly in front of her was an area used for ironing equipped with 5-10 irons, ironing boards, several large baskets on wheels, and basic tools she might need to fix any malfunctioning equipment. In the very center of the room was a large table used to fold the unending loads of towels, sheets, pillowcases, and blankets. Most would cave to the monotonous workload, but Beulah enjoyed drowning in lint.
Upon arriving Beulah emptied the contents of the dryers onto the large table in the center of the room. She folded, and folded, and folded some more; packing one of the rolling baskets full of clean items to return to the rooms. Before leaving the basement, she retrieved another empty rolling cart. As she made her rounds from room to room, Beulah pushed an empty cart for soiled items, and pulled a full basket of clean items; a routine she completed 5-6 times a day.
On her second round of the day, as Beulah passed one of the rooms she heard the ear-splitting sounds of ‘ole Brother Lazarus. She’d recognize those screeches anywhere with all of the confrontations she’d heard between him and Jesse. Lazarus was attacking one of the nurses and saying all sorts of hateful things to her. It was horrible abuse. Just horrible.
As the nurse came out with tears streaming down her face, she looked at my grandmother and said, “I’ve had enough. I’m telling the doctor he’s giving him his ENEMA, and I hope IT HURTS!”
Beulah giggling at the nurse’s need for vindication chimed in with, “My goodness, that sounds painful. Do you know what happened to him?”
The nurse responded, “Some boaters found him on the lake, and he almost drowned. They said they really didn’t want to help him because he told ‘em off for being too close to HIS FISHING HOLE. They did the right thing by bringing him here, but he’s our problem now. The doctor said he may not make it though. There’s a lot wrong with him. All I was trying to do was ask him if he wanted me to call his pastor and he hurled insult after insult at me.”
“He doesn’t have a pastor. Would you like for me to try?” Beulah said.
“Oh no, it’s okay. The doctor is coming to take him down to surgery. I’ve gotta check on another patient. Thank you so much, Beulah. You’re the best.” expressed the nurse before racing off to her next patient.
For the rest of the day, Beulah prayed for ‘ole Brother Lazarus. She asked the Lord to give him another chance to ask Jesus into his heart. “Please Lord, just give him another chance. I know he’s as mean as a snake, but he’s hurting. He’s been hurt. Please Lord, just give him another chance to ask You into his heart so he can feel what real love is like. Wash all the pain away.”
As she made her remaining rounds she went by his room, but there weren’t any heaves of hostility launching his medical staff into a frenzy. Where was ‘ole Brother Lazarus? Maybe his surgery wasn’t over yet? Beulah began looking for his nurse, but she couldn’t find her either.
“Lord, please save him. Please. Whatever it takes.”
As she returned to the laundry to end her day, she emptied the dryers one final time draping several towels over her shoulder. Suddenly, she heard a loud, “BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!”
What was that? It sounded like it’s coming from across the hall. How can that be?
Again, “BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!”
My grandmother armed herself with a hot iron in her left hand and a hammer in her right, and decided to walk across the hall TO THE MORGUE.
“Lord, I am about to walk THROUGH the valley of the SHADOW OF DEATH. Please don’t leave me there. Let your rod and staff comfort me as You carry me through to the other side.”
As she charged through the door with her hot iron and hammer ready to fight off the would-be bandit, she screeched, “The Lord is My Hammer! You better get behind me Satan!”
Beulah was standing in a very empty morgue. No one was there. No one. Not one person.
Oh but wait… Wait…. I promise you this is the absolute TRUTH….
Suddenly again, like a shock wave she heard “BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!”
“Jesus! If that’s you, I promise you I am RAPTURE READY. Take me home, Lord. Take me home.”
Immediately she realized it was coming from one of the freezers where they STORED THE DEAD BODIES.
Now I don’t care who you are, whether you are a sinner or a saint or somewhere in between... When you hear sounds coming out of a dead man’s freezer, you’ll call on the Name of Jesus… And that’s exactly what Beulah did.
“Jesus, I know it says in Your Word that You go before me and You’ll be with me. Please help me, Lord! I don’t want to open the freezer door without YOU. You have to go before me, Lord. Please, be in that freezer before I open the door! Please don’t leave me or forsake me. Take away all my fear right now in the Mighty Name of Jesus. I have faith in You. It’s the substance of things hoped for, and it's the evidence of things not seen. Jesus, please don’t let me see a dead body in that freezer.”
As Beulah took a few steps closer, there it was again “BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!”
Making a quick mental decision to put down the hot iron and hold onto the hammer as a weapon, she turned the handle of the cooler, saying “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Oh Jesus, there’s power in the Name of Jesus!”
Out jumped mean ‘ole Brother Lazarus reaching for the towels draped across Beulah’s shoulders as the hammer barely missed him. Lazarus came out of that cooler the exact same way he went in. Butt naked. He was reaching for anything that would cover his hind parts because he knew Jesse was gonna KILL HIM FOR REAL when he found him.
My poor grandmother exclaimed, “Lord, forgive me. My eyes! My eyes! Lord, I am going to bust hell wide open. I’ve done seen another man necked other than Jesse. Forgive me, Lord. Please forgive me.”
As ‘ole Brother Lazarus covered himself up, he charged across the hall for a blanket. Beulah followed behind him, “Lazarus, what in the world happened? You scared me to death!”
“Beulah, my feet were on fire in that freezer. How could my feet be on fire in a cold freezer? How?”
Beulah, letting him process what had just happened, said. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll go get a nurse for you.”
“It’s okay. I feel great. Absolutely fine,” the look of shock was still on his face as he was in deep thought.
“Praise Jesus, you’ve been healed Lazarus. They said you were near death earlier today. The Lord has touched you, and you’re healed. You’re a walking miracle. Thank you, Lord.” rejoiced Beulah.
“Beulah, you know you’ve told me about heaven and hell many times. Do you think I was on my way to hell? Is that why my feet were on fire?”
“Lazarus, I know the Lord loves you and He wants you to wake up. He's been trying to get your attention for a long time. The Lord has already healed your body and now He wants to heal your hurting heart too.”
At that very moment, the Lord allowed my grandmother to lead the meanest man in town through the prayer for salvation unlocking the prison doors to his heart.
“Lazarus, ask Jesus to forgive you and to come into your heart.”
With tears streaming down his face, he said “Jesus, forgive me. Come into my heart.”
Beulah saw his chains fall to the floor as his countenance supernaturally changed in an instance. Lazarus come forth! His smile radiated the love of Christ. Jesus performed another miracle by saving his soul, and stripping away the despair, discouragement, and sorrow of his past. She rejoiced in knowing the Lord had taken every one of Lazarus’ burdens, lightened his load, and gave him rest. It was what the Lord had been preparing her for all day… Leading Lazarus to the Lord. Whatever it takes…
“Lazarus, if the hospital says you’re free to leave, I’d like for you to come to the house for supper. Get yourself cleaned up and come on down. You’re more than welcome to have dinner with me and Jesse and the kids.”
“Oh Beulah, I don’t know. I don’t think Jesse would like that at all. I’ve done horrible things. I’ve said horrible things.”
“Lazarus, the Lord has changed you. You’re a new person. Your past is in the past, because Jesus has made you new. Jesse will be just fine with you coming over. There’s always a seat at the supper table for family.”
That night was the first time ‘ole Brother Lazarus joined our family for dinner, but it wasn’t the last. As everyone sat down for a traditional supper, the down home Southern delicacies filled the table: fried pork chops, old-fashioned fried potatoes, turnip greens, black-eyed peas, corn bread, biscuits with chocolate gravy, and a blackberry cobbler for dessert; but the best part of the meal was the conversation between family. They shared. They laughed. They enjoyed each other’s company.
Before leaving for the evening, Lazarus asked Jesse if he could speak with him privately on the porch. “Jesse, I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you and your family. Please forgive me. I’ve been horrible to you. You’ve always shown me nothing but kindness, and I want to say thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Lazarus. If you’re not too busy we’d like for you to come with us to church on Sunday. Whatcha think?”
“Jesse, I’d like that a lot. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“And we’d like for you to join us after church for dinner.”
“Jesse, I don’t want to be a bother. You’ve been too kind to me already.”
“Lazarus, there’s always a seat at the table for family. Always. You’re welcome anytime.”
“I’m looking forward to it, Jesse.” The men shook hands before Lazarus began walking home.
Beulah was close by watching as she made her way onto the porch. “Jesse, I am so proud to be your wife. You’re a very good man.”
“Beulah Josephine, your most enduring quality to me is your love for brokenhearted people like Lazarus. The Lord used you to melt his hard heart, and to show him who Jesus is. You’re beautiful to me.” Jesse said as he embraced her.
“Oh Jesse, I love you. You better stop, because seven is God’s perfect number. We don’t need no more kids.”
Lazarus was the first of many strays my grandmother brought home to the dinner table. You never knew who she’d be inviting for supper to show them the love of Christ. One thing was certain, they would always leave as family of the heart. Beulah had an undeniable way with people that broke through the toughest and meanest walls ever built by men. She was the Lord’s secret weapon, His Hammer, anointed to breakthrough the pain of the past leading people to their future in Him.
Blessings!
Stacey Bryan
P.S. This picture shows the hospital staff at the West Orange Memorial Hospital. Pictured with the rest of the employees is Beulah, my grandmother; my Aunt Nell, who was a cook; and my mother, Bettie Lou, who worked in the office. I’ll hide their location unless Bettie Lou chooses to identify them. Lol!