Service at Mt. Olivet ~ A Step back in time

Those that remember and love Mt. Olivet,  gather faithfully each year for the annual service.

The descendants of those buried here still gather and will never forget.

They have established a committee and fund drive to keep the tiny church in good condition and maintained.

The cemetery has its own fund and is well taken care of, thanks to those that care.

God Bless each and every one of you!

The modest altar inside the church.

The view from the cemetery ~

The stone in fhe foreground on the left is Welzia A. Arrowood's, the next stone in the middle, is Sarah Ellender Winters Arrowood Miller's, and the one on the right, is Isabell Correll Arrowood's, wife of Welzia.

The stacked stone foundation columns have been replaced with brick ones, after a windy storm knocked the tiny church off its foundation.

Mount Olivet United Methodist Church Invitation~ 2012

This tiny church has an annual worship service and it is so charming!

In the cemetery directly behind this church, rests Welzia Augustus Arrowood. Alongside Welzia, his wife, Isabell Correll Arrowood.

Welzia's mother, Sarah Ellender Winters Arrowood Miller also rests here.

Please join in and help keep this tiny church (and our history) from falling into ruin from neglect!

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A Journey Thru Time ~ Mount Olivet Church

The sunny afternoon was a delight; nice , but not too warm. The tiny white framed church's doors and windows were flung wide open, beckoning us to come on inside.

 A service at the tiny Mount Olivet church is a sweet, wonderful, inspiring experience. The wooden planks in the floor are rippled and wavy, the small slatted wooden walls are showing their age, but the stories that old wood could tell us, would be amazing.




The windows were once again propped open with planks, and the cool springtime breeze wafted past me in the pew. An occasional bumble bee floated in on the breeze, but I figured all were welcome here.

The bees politely stayed up in the high ceiling area and left us worshippers alone.



The oil lamps are positioned around the perimeter of the room. I was told they used to have a larger lantern to light the night services. I would have loved to have attended one of those!



This tiny country church first opened it's doors way back in 1879. It is on the Historical Registry as the 'only remaining one room wooden Methodist church' in Gaston County.



The winds came some time back,  and they blew this tiny church nearly off her foundation but she still stands firm. The rocks were replaced with bricks and mortar and she remains where she belongs. Keeping her place in history and firmly standing where she will, hopefully, well into the future.



There are plans underway to keep this tiny church restored and the cemetery kept up with, as well.

Contributions to this cause are always accepted. If you wish to donate to the preservation of this tiny church attached to our family and to my heartstrings, just contact Judy Shannon at 704-867-4713.



This year, Joe Carpenter presided over the memorial service and Reverend Richard Cloninger gave the sermon. It was a beautiful service.



Old timey hymns were raised to the glory of the Lord, with the help of Wilma Craig, playing the old style pump organ. We all sang heartily with Wilma kindly requesting that we limit the number of verses sung on each hymn, because her leg was 'plain giving out' pumping that old organ. Grin.

It just doesn't get any more 'old-timey' than that, folks.

I took in the sights and smells of the wonderful old church ,as we sat there on those scarred wooden benches.

I let my mind travel back in time to a simpler place, when life was slower paced. I think I would have enjoyed living in that time, but I would have definitely missed  the air-conditioning.

I met a man after the service that beamed when I spoke to him. He glowed with love for the place and you could tell how special it was to him. He recalled coming to services as a child with his grandmother and he showed me the wooden cross that sat on the altar in front of the pulpit. He had made it himself in shop class , years ago and donated it to the church. It was lovely.

An old framed portrait of Jesus hangs on the wall,  behind the pulpit.

 The spirit of our Lord was surely in that place.



The average age of those attending this service was about 75, I would say. This is a sad fact to relay. The ones that truly love this place are getting older, and we are losing them one by one. I heard of a number of those connected to the church that have passed in just the last year. I was among the youngest ones there. We are the ones that will carry the torch forward for this tiny church. I do not want this torch to be laid by the wayside. I consider this place my heritage, too.


I spoke with Wilma Craig, who has vast knowledge of the history of this tiny church, about our Welzia and his possible role in this church. He is not officially listed among those that pastored here, but I feel sure that he must have preached here a time or two. His heart was surely here, or he would not have wanted to be laid to rest here.

I went out after service and paid my respects to him and Isabell..as well as Great grandma Sarah Ellen Winters Arrowood. Surely they were all smiling down from heaven, watching the service from above.


The crowd gathered after the service outside, inside the white picket fence that surrounds the cemetery.

They served cookies and lemonade to all in attendance.

I thought it was lovely to gather among those long gone, in fellowship.

I made my way among the stones, looking for a Maypop vine. Dad loved to come here to pick those Maypops, but it is a tad early for those, I guess.

A wonderful old timey Sunday afternoon....sigh...

Service at Mount Olivet, Gastonia ~

The Arrowood Family Crest





Mt. Olivet Methodist Church, Gastonia, North Carolina



I had the chance to go to a service at Mt. Olivet one bright day in May. The cars lined up along the road leading up to the tiny church. The sun shone bright against the dazzling white whitewash of the building. The doorway was small and narrow, inside were bare plank floors and you could smell the age of those boards. Not a bad smell, just a slightly musty, woody smell. I thought of the souls that had crossed that doorway a long time back..and I thought about the soles of the shoes that scuffed along those old worn boards. There was a spot empty beside the window, on the end of a pew and I found my seat. The window was large paned and held open by a chunk of wood. The smell of spring and honeysuckle coming through the open window is something I will not forget. Looking out that window, I could see the headstone of Welzia, my great grandpa. I looked at the pulpit and tried to imagine him standing there, delivering the sermon. Tall and dark haired, with a mustache.

There was an old upright piano before me to the right and on it a large vase of purple irises. My Dad's favorite. I let my heart be taken back to a simpler time and place.
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Welzia and Isabell Correll Arrowood





Welzia was born February 28, 1860, in Yancey County, North Carolina. Born the son of Samuel Arrowood born about 1836, and Sarah Ellen Winters, born May of 1840, Carter County, Tennessee. Welzia was the firstborn son of six children.

On the 1880 census record of Harrell's Township, North Carolina, Isabell was living with her father David and her mother Nancy. Two houses down, in the home of James Garland, lived Welzia, working as a farm hand. One can only imagine how they met and fell in love. They were married that same year. Welzia was 19 and Isabell was 16.

Welzia worked in the Claire Mill as a dolfer and was also an ordained Methodist minister. From stories I have heard, he was a "circuit preacher" and would travel around when folks needed "preaching to".

For awhile, he and Isabell lived right by the mill. There is a water tower that stands just about where the house once stood, according to my Dad's descriptions. Gastonia has moved on and spread out and only the old store once attached to the mill remains.

Welzia and Isabell had a large family. Isabell was a no-nonsense sort of women, she took no "guff" off of anyone, according to my grandmother. She always wore an apron with big, deep pockets and carried things around with her most all the time. Grandma was intrigued by the woman, I could tell by her stories. She seemed almost to "know things" according to grandma.

Grandma thought it was because she had 'Indian Blood' in her..not sure about that as a fact.

Together they had twelve children, one of which was Lewis William Arrowood, my grandfather.
They lost one baby in infancy, Samuel, from choking on a peach pit. Then she lost Fielden three years after losing Welzia.

Welzia died at the age of 55 years from pnuemonia. He is buried alongside of Isabell in the Mt. Olivet Methodist Church cemetery in Gastonia. Early on, Mt. Olivet was known as Ebeneezer Methodist Church. The Gaston Gazette newspaper ran an article about area old churches and published a picture of the church with Welzia's stone in the foreground. My Dad was so excited about that article.

My Dad, Steve Arrowood, never had a chance to know his grandfather. Steve was born about 16 years after Welzia's death. Welzia was way too young to die.

Isabell was born to David and Nancy Harrington Correll. Her family and her were listed on the census of 1880 in Harrell's Township in Mitchell County, North Carolina. After Welzia's death she went to live with her daughter's family, Esther and George Long on the Modena Extension in Gastonia. Esther was a twin to my grandfather, Lewis William. Isabell fell while living there and broke her hip, she became partially bedridden and never really recovered. She developed pnuemonia and died. Isabell was 72 years, 8 months and 18 days old at the time of her death and she was buried alongside Welzia.

I cherish the memories of my own grandparents. I had all four until I was 18 years old. Makes me feel very lucky to have had them. Those memories are cherished.