Rosa Floye Hughie Robinson
1910-1981
Daughter of James Thompson and Rosa Hughie
Rosa Floye Hughie was born in Tallapoosa, Georgia on April 20, 1910. Her
parents had just moved from the area just southwest of Atlanta. Her parents
moved to a farm in Cleburne County, Alabama in the middle of 1915 and stayed
there for about a year before moving back to Tallapoosa. The family moved to
Atlanta, Georgia in 1922 where they spent the rest of their lives.
Rosa Floye Hughie Robinson wrote her own story. It was written during
the last years of her life. Much of the time she was in the hospital with
cancer.
Her Story
My very early childhood was spent on a farm in Haralson county, Georgia.
Of those days are some things that stand out in my mind very vivid, as
though it was yesterday. I remember mother use to wear large loose dresses
and when her supper was cooked and night chores done she would place her
chair in the west door of the country home and as she held my younger
sister in her arms I"d push my little self in between her knees and use her
old fashion dress for a swing. We sat there waiting for Dad and the older
children to come driving into the yard on the big two-horse wagon loaded
with cotton.
Most times as the sun died in the west I"d drop off to sleep and never
know when the wagon arrived. One evening I was very much awake and went
running out to meet them. Dad in his big strong voice called the large heavy
mules to halt. They obeyed and when the wagon stopped from what seem ed to
be way up yonder, my older brothers and sisters and Dad jumped to the
ground. I"ll never forget how small I felt, how large those horse hooves
looked and how high everything and everybody was above me. I felt so small
and insignificant. Never again when I was so small was I anxious to run into
the yard to greet those tired out snappy giants, but every chance I got I sat
in my swing in Mamas dress and teased at the baby and we watched the sun
sink out of sight.
We did not own a time piece of any description, few people did in those
days. So that sun meant lots to us. Mama always had an almanac and she
would take the almanac and open the door and tell you within a few minutes
of the correct time, by how far the sun shone in the door combined with the
almanac knowledge of when the sun would set on this day. Wonder what
became of the old almanac!
Back to the farm on the hill. While we only lived here about three or four
years, I have some very vivid memories. On Sunday our whole family would
get up and rush around and go to Sunday School and preaching. We most
usually had the preacher (or preachers) home to dinner so there was lots of
preparation. Mama usually cooked dinner while the oldest sister bathed and
dressed the younger children, and the next older sister made beds, swept and
dusted, and for sure put the white linen cloth on the table and set it with
our best of everything. Of course we always had chicken. And me, being one
of the younger children, I would never have known that the chicken had any
other parts except the feet and neck, if I had not see the running about the
yard, for tis true , Preachers do love chicken, the breast and all the rest,
except necks and feet.
When eleven years old, in prosperous years, everyone got pretty coat and
school cloths. Mama had lovely coat suit, black velvet hat with large soft blue
ostrich plum on it. She looked so nice, so dressed up. Come spring we all had
new shoes and a new hat. These were straw. Mama's was black straw shaped
like a nest, trimmed with red cherries. Dad teased her about her bird nest,
but frankly he liked it. This gave Mama a very dignified look. We girls had
leghorn hats with forget-me-nots.
They were very pretty. My sister just older than I, had bad luck with
hers. She wore it to the pasture when we went over to play while Mama
cooked dinner, which consisted of a large turtle. Dad caught on a trot line the
night before, which was Saturday nite. This being Sunday, we children were
permitted to go to the pasture to play til dinner. Gertrude hung her hat on a
low limb of a mulberry bush while we were playing in the branch. Suddenly
we heard Mama call, we tore out home thinking dinner was ready, but instead
one of our favorite uncles had come for the day and had brought our cousins,
one boy and two girls with him. (The uncle was Sam and Nora cook, children
Ruth, Ruby and Luther.) Oh we forgot all about dinner and with our cousins
rushed back to the pasture and to that ever enjoyable pastime of wading in
the branch, but when we arrive, there stood old bossy, having lunch on
Gertrude's beautiful hat. There was only a remnant of the straw left, but we
sure were mad at that cow. We wished there wasn't even a remnant of her hat
left. We soon got over that excitement and were wading in the branch again,
feeling the dirt squash between our toes, watching a minnow dash by now and
then, keeping an eye out for that tricky little crawfish that crawls backwards
and can make you think he is going to take a plug out with his pinchers. The
sun shown beautifully through the swaying tree limbs and we swung from the
grape vines hanging from them. Finally we heard the clanging of the dinner
bell. Like a streak of lighting we were home ready to eat. Most of the turtle
had already been eaten. We each had a smiggen, how tasty it was.
When I was a small girl, we attended the Baptist Church in the country.
Then there were two elderly ladies who had a wonderful experience with God,
and they would get happy and shout, and one of them would come out of
benches and walk up and down the isles and praise God and sometimes plead
with souls, and when this happened there was weeping all over and some
hearty Amens. What struck me the most was not just what I saw, but what I
felt. The whole atmosphere seemed to be electrified. My little body shook, I
wanted to go to the mourners bench. Folks didn't understand God's moving
and children's hearts. So such a thing would have been out of order. So I
just hid myself in Mama's big full skirt and wept. Mama placed a comforting
hand on me and wept too. Mama didn't know how to find God, neither did I.
When I was around six and seven, we lived by a most precious woman who
was wife of the Chief of Police in our little town, which made her an important
person to the folk there, but to me she was a most important person, one who
played one of the most important roles in my life, not because she was Chief
of Police wife, but because she knew Jesus. She was a wonderful Christian.
She lived with God. In her I saw the thing my soul hungered for - that living
Word the Giver of Eternal Life. Then only a child, I said when I'm a big girl
and can do as I want to, I'm going to be like our next door neighbor. I will
go to her kind of church and I will get what she has. As for what she had it
was something wonderful that helped one to be good and caused one to be
very happy.
Then ÿwe moved to the deep country 4 miles from any town. Some
memorable things took place during the next four years. There was the
longing in my young heart for something I knew not what. Therefore I was
very active. I'd climb trees to a dangerous height, I'd get a long pole and
run across the farm vaulting and seek the deepest ditch to vault over,
seeking a thrill as a child to satisfy the inward longing. I was venturesome,
reaching out for peace and satisfaction.
Sometimes after I was ten years old late one afternoon Mama sent me to
our neighbors, (who had supplies for all his tenants) for some kerosene.
Child-like I played with their children and before I realized it, it was getting
dark, so I grabbed my kerosene and away I went toward home. The nearer I
got to the old empty house beside the road, the faster my heart beat and the
darker it got. By the time I was passing it I was so frightened I could
hardly make my little feet go, yet I was really making good time. I though I
heard foot steps behind me and it got so real I could not stand it any longer,
so out of fear and deep curiosity I turned and look ed back and to my
surprise, there before my young eyes was "An Angel" hovering over me. In
my ignorance I didn't know what it was - but then and there all fear left me
and a "great Peace flooded my soul". I turned and walked calmly home, but
this was my secret. I never told this until I was a Christian. No one would
have understood.
Somehow during these years we lived here, there was a longing deep
inside of me to preach - to tell about God - but any knowledge of him, I did
not posses. We children would play church on Sunday afternoon and I was
always the preacher. I can remember telling over and over that God made the
sun and stars the moon and the heavens. A very slim knowledge I had of
anything spiritual.
Near my eleventh birthday on a Saturday afternoon one of our neighbors
came leading a mule and bringing his children. On his arrival he announced
that he had come to help us finish planting our crop. This was a kind
neighborly act, but not uncommon on the farms in those days. This was before
the tractors were in use in our part of the country.
The men folk loaded the two horse wagon with cotton seed and guano and
helped all the children up on top to ride over to the unplanted field. I took
the reins of the mule to lead behind the wagon. Off we went, as we drove out
of the yard and beside the barn over a large terrace which caused the wagon
to jostle real bad. This frightened the mule and she shied away from the
wagon jerking the reins throwing me off the wagon and between the front and
back wheels. And I felt the wagon passing across my left cheek down across
my right shoulder and arm pit down the right arm, onto my right leg near the
hip and on down the inside of that leg across the ankle and off the center
bottom of the foot. I could hear my father and the neighbor hollering whoa,
whoa, over and over and the children hollering with fright. Then I heard dad
say drive on off her foot. The wagon had stopped on my foot. I pictured
myself crushed to pieces.
Dad picked me up and rushed to the house, on the way he told someone to
run and tell our neighbor to get a doctor quick. I calmly said I'm alright- I
don't need a doctor. So they did not get the doctor. They gave me a through
examina tion. They were astonished. Even though the wagon had passed over
my head, face, shoulder, arm, leg, ankle and foot, the only sign of a tiny
scratch was bare pin scratches on my left cheek. There were no bruises.
There never was the slightest bit of soreness. You say "impossible"! My
answer yes except for the fact God's hand was upon my life and he had sent
his angel to watch over me. Bless His Holy Name!
My parents didn't like the "way" that my soul longed for "that feeling."
They were church members but they did not have the joy or peace that
neighbor had, but her way was a persecuted way. In those days all
Pentecostals were called "Holy Rollers", and my Dad let us know that he did
not want us mixed up in that. But my heart kept telling me that I wanted to
be one.
In the meantime, dad's mother broke up house keeping, and divided some
of her things among the children. There was silverware, pictures, books, etc.
Among the books was a New Testament and Psalm in large type. We were so
happy to receive these gifts, as we were so poor even on Christmas we would
receive only an apple and maybe a couple of oranges, a little candy and a few
nuts, so anything different coming into the home made us very happy.
Somehow out of all the things she sent, the New Testament and Psalm
fascinated my very soul. I would read the Psalms for hours. Somehow I loved
them (and still do) but none of those precious words seemed to stay with me.
Yet I spent many hours day after day reading that book.
In 1920, Dad worked in Atlanta Ga. boarding in homes among common
people. He bought a home in one of these neigh borhoods, in fact one of the
nicest. Most of the homes were in the $2500.00 class where ours was $4500.00.
He notified us that we were to move to Atlanta.
December 1922, two weeks before Christmas we were moving. ÿOur
belongings were few. One small truck was all that was needed to convey our
furniture and all other items.
At the time I had never ridden in an automobile or on a train. So this was
a wonderful adventure for all the family, especially we children. Both of these
unusual feats were accomplished in one day.
I had become twelve the April before. That day when we had said farewell
to our three older sisters and their families, and boarded the train headed for
the Big City. Mom was weeping, but in my heart I longed to go down a certain
street to the police chief's house and just look in the face of this kind wife
and hear her sweet voice once more, tell of the one who was all in all to her.
I realized we were leaving and maybe I'd never meet another person who had
what she had. Was this the end of my great expectation ? All this lay within
the breast of a twelve year old.
We arrived in Atlanta about midafternoon and were met at the station by
an older brother in a model T Ford. You can imagine the sight (and you have
my permission to laugh, we have had many a hearty laugh ourselves). Big
Brother, Mom. and Dad were in the front seat with the baby on Mama's lap.
Gertrude who was 14, I who was 12, Jewel who was 10, Paul who was 8 and
Ada who was 6, stacked in the back just entering into the Big City two weeks
before Christmas. Never had we seen anything like this. Each one striving to
stay on top, craning our necks trying to not miss any of the "out of this
world" Christmas decorations.
We arrived at our new home unloaded and raced to see who would explore
the mansion first. We raced in one room and out, up stairs and into the attic,
back down stairs in and out of the house. In no time at all we had explored
the place for we lost no time in doing so. Well we decided we liked it. We
could go up stairs and look down on our neigh bors, as we were the only ones
who had an upstairs. We were proud of our home.
At the supper table, the ten of us seated around filling our empty tummys,
Dad said to Mama," Now Rosa, I hate to have to tell you this and if I had
known it I would not have bought here, but since I bought this place I have
learned that all upon the hill above us here (waving his hand) is just a
settlement of those Holy Rollers. That settlement is called Beulah Heights and
too, only two blocks away, there is a large camp ground. But to put you at
ease, let me tell you something else, the border line for this Beulah Heights
Settlement comes just past the second house above here. See! It is no part of
this what-so-ever.
We had lots to learn. Our street was the only one to the Heights or to the
camp ground, and to cap it all there was a Bible School too. This was the
providence of God making a way for the hungry heart of a 13 year old girl.
No one passed our way but that we all gathered at the window to see who our
visitor was to be, only to discover that lots of people pass your house in the
city and few ever visit. In the country everyone who came our road was
either our company or an acquaintance. So different this city life.
I noticed in the face of some people who passed there seemed to be a light
akin to the Police Chief's wife back in the little town. Sometimes they spoke
kind words as she. A hope seemed to be revived in my breast. Soon came
June and Camp Meeting time. For some unknown reason Dad went to Camp Meet
the first service on Sunday. Mom and all we children went. We were under
strict orders to behave ourselves and stay near the back but under the
Tabernacle by all means. I was use to the behavior, for in those days I'd
never heard of anyone misbehaving in church. We walked the two blocks and
entered the Tabernacle and this family of children almost filled one long bench
near the back with Dad next to the isle.
Things began to happen. Dad began to act miserable, for there on the
rostrum on the very front seat sat a minister and his wife who use too
minister in the little school house out in the country whom Dad though lots of.
In testament service, which they always had in those days, the good news
rang out. This preacher and his wife had received "The Light", and were so
glad and they wanted the world to know they were now "One of Them". Dad
twisted and turned. This was a "Holy Ghost" Service Amend.
The benediction came then everyone was shaking hands with a hearty "Gad
Bless You". The next thing I knew I heard Dad saying, "But you must go,
Rosa's cooking Dinner and she'll be glad to have you." Sure enough she was.
Funny thing you know, we had holiness for dinner - main meal and desert.
Now these good folks wanted to know how in the world my Dad happened to
find a place so convenient to a Pentecostal Camp Meeting and Bible School.
Dad turned that one off. To him it was a definite "inconvenience and shame",
bordering onto a "disgrace". To them "convenient". To me the Providence of
the Almighty God, who satifies hearts, providing a way for a young girl in her
teens to find "the way" to heaven. For God Himself had laid his hand on my
life.
Camp meeting 1925, I found myself at the alter. God saved my soul. This
was a wonderful experience but I didn't hold on long. But during the short
time I walked with him, he delivered me from an awful fear of storms, which
has hung over me all my life like a heavy weight. This particular day the
atmosphere was so heavy and there was not enough oxygen in the elements to
carry off the smoke in the big city and suddenly at midday it was black as
night. A neighbor came running and wringing her hand and screaming "Mrs
Hughie, the world is coming to an end" Over and over she said it. I turned
from the porch and went to the piano and began to play and sing "Rock of
ages cleft for me, let me hide my self in thee". Way down inside me I realized
I had a hiding place and no harm could befall me.
Camp meeting 1926, I found myself at the alter again and I found Him only
to loose Him again. I missed Him so, but there was no one to encourage me. I
was not allowed to go to the church of my choice. and they knew nothing of a
new life separated unto God, as the Pentecostals taught. So I decided since I
could not go to the church of my choice, and I could not hold out in the cold
nominal church, that I'd just go the way of the world, my family and friends.
The first time I went with the crowd, watching closely to know how to act and
really relate. I rolled my eyes at a young man and as he started towards me,
making his way through the crowd, an other young man turned to see the
attraction and as he faced me he holloed right out loud "Oh Oh she's a Holy
Roller, I know cause I saw her down at that alter". From there out I was
poison ivy. The truth was , I was "Marked" for God had his hand on me. And
these were my thoughts: "I'm ruined for the world, I'm marked. I've been to a
Pentecostal alter and the whole world knows. I felt like a badly misplaced
person. I had left Jesus and gone out into the world, only to find I was not
wanted.
Camp meeting 1927, I attended regular and fought off conviction. Told God
from my heart that he knew my heart, that one day I was going to serve him
and it wouldn't be long til I would be a woman of my own and I'd do as I like
and that I would get saved and live for him. For then I could join the church
and be with the people who I believe walked closest to Him. God heard that
vow. He began to work.
In August, God saved my soul, and brought me back to him and restored
unto me the Joy of Salvation. On Sept. 4 1927 at 9:15 PM I received the
mighty Baptism of the Spirit. This was a wonderful experience. Since that day
I've seen lots of folk receive the Baptism of the Spirit, but few have had such
an experience as I. That night at the alter when I was just about to fall
under the mighty power of God it fell upon me and over I went. Like a flash I
thought, this is Glory and opened my mouth to say Glory and the Holy Spirit
began to speak for him. He had possession. In desiring what these people had
all these years, there was just one thing that I did not want. That was the
"tongues."
I spoke in tongues from 9:15 to 11 O'clock and was so filled with the
Spirit that I was completely be-sides myself. The good folks helped me up
from the alter and tried to talk with me about what had taken place, I could
not speak English! I was so drunk on this new wine that I had to be helped
to the car in which I was to ride home. I was placed in a car with 4 people
who just didn't quite know about the Baptism. There were questions in their
mind as to the necessity of it or Him. They were convinced when they
witnessed my experience that night. There were several souls who were saved
and in that state of mind. And God used this 17 year old girl, one without
much learning, from the country and rather timid in company to convince
them. Within a short while each of these had received their Baptism.
On the way home that nite I did not talk. When the car stopped in front
of my house I got out and went in. I was still speaking in tongues, softly. I
tried to get control but could not. Finally I called my sister thinking maybe
she could help me. She came into the kitchen where I was. I could not speak
to her in English even though I tried. So I reached out my hand and touched
her shoulder, thinking she would realize my situation and help me in some
way. But when my hand touched her shoulder, the power of God struck her
and opened up a well to the bottom of her being and she let out one loud
shout and she began to speak in tongues too. Out of the bed jumped my
brother-in-law demanding to know what was the matter. He didn't like no part
of it. So I went out and sat down on the edge of the back porch and the Holt
Ghost kept speaking. Finally I got down to a whisper. Then at 1 O'clock I
retired, but the last thing I knew that nite I was still speaking in tongues.
Now as far some of the other things that happened after my Baptism. My
brother-in-law soon made me know I was not wanted at his house any longer.
Now I was ruined just like my sister. We had both gone crazy. Dad didn't like
him say ing that about me so he told them to tell me that he wanted me to
come back home. This I did.
The first meal at home, we were all seated at the table with a young
friend of my brother. I had a deep desire to thank God for the food but was
not given a chance. Then dad began to open bottles of "home-brew" an
intoxicant he made in the home and we were privileged to drink. Down inside
me a voice whispered "you have me, should I be subjected to this? Will this
be pleasing to God?" With that I know I could not eat at the table with this
so I kindly said "you all pardon me and I'll eat later," rose and went to the
living room. I was followed by my father cursing me for thinking I was too
good to eat at the table with him. Saying he was a christian and never had
felt too good to eat with any one. I simply said "Dad, you don't have my
Jesus. For if you had you couldn't eat at the table with that stuff". Some
more words and he returned to the dining table mumbling under his breath.
There was a fine young man who came into Pentecostal about two months
after I did. For about seven months we were in service together working for
Jesus. We began dating and kept on fire for God too. On August 31 1928 we
were united in marriage. He was a wonderful ambitious young man who had
the responsibility of his widowed mother and several child ren. This he did
without complaint.
I had the glorious privilege of praying my mother through when she was
dying. As I prayed for her a ball of light from heaven fell hitting the top of
my head and burst on me and went through my being like lightning and the
next thing I knew I was shouting all over the room. The enemy contended for
that soul to the last. When I started to pray with mama, dad and an older
brother screamed at me to get away from there with that stuff. I stepped
back. Mama looked at me again and said "please do something for me." All of a
sudden fear of dad and brother left me and I felt as large and strong as a
giant. With this I turned to my dad and said "you let mama pray, she's lost
and she's dying and on her way to hell." Then I turned and told mama how to
pray. She ask Gad three times to have mercy on her, a sinner, as she said
that the third time, the ball of light hit.
For years my father didn't want anyone to talk to him about Holy living.
God gave me the favor with dad and many an hour I've spent teaching him
the way of holiness, and he never got the least bit ruffled. After 20 years he
called me on the phone one day and said he wanted to tell me some thing. He
said "I've decided one thing, if a man is born of God he want even want to
sin". Then he quoted a scripture, and he was exceeding happy. A year later
with victory in his soul he went to be with Jesus.
The end of Her Story
Rosa Floye Robinson died on January 20, 1981 in Atlanta Georgia. Her
husband, William J. Robinson had died in 1963 in Atlanta also. They raised ten
children there.
