Nell Collins Thompson had flair. She exuded it. She could have patented it. Her own inimitable style was upon everything she touched.
She used her flair in every phase of her life — her home, her classroom, her church work, her writings and especially on the dance floor. She saw beauty in objects which most would have passed by. She saw potential in the least promising student at James River High School in Botetourt County, Va., where she taught social studies.
Fred Anderson
|
She studied the history of her church and the other churches of the Roanoke Valley; and in her writings, she breathed life into the stories of God’s people. She discovered release and expression through ballroom dancing; and when she appeared at a tea dance, all eyes fell upon the lady with the beautiful face, hair and clothes.
Flair is not the expected possession of schoolmarms and pastors’ wives, and Nell Collins was born in the least likely place to inspire it — the cotton mill village of Schoolfield in Danville, Va.. It was a hardscrabble existence.
The girl was inspired and impressed by her schoolteachers, who may have given her the desire to become a teacher herself. She graduated from high school and took a well-worn path for Baptist women: Averett College, followed by the University of Richmond’s Westhampton College.
Women who transferred from Averett were not easily accepted at Westhampton. They had to prove themselves all over again; but at her class’s 50th reunion in 1994 Nell Collins Thompson clearly was “the star”; and in her stardom she shone brilliantly. The UR alumni magazine told about her performance at the reunion: “First she waltzed. Then she rhumbaed and finally [imitated a bullfight.] As she danced, she managed costume magic, changing from the graceful gown of the waltz to the showy flounced red and black one which fitted the Latin beat.”
After graduation, Nell returned briefly to Schoolfield to teach in the elementary school. One of her seventh-graders wrote a history of the class and remembered: “One evening Miss Collins room had a banquet at the Baptist Church. Every girl that came had an evening dress on and every one of them was pretty. The boys had sport suits on and every one at the party was nice even down [to] the teacher and her parents. Preacher Brown was there and he was nice as anybody there.” Even in that seventh-grade class in Schoolfield, Nell Collins used her gift for flair to turn mill kids into banquet guests if only for a single night.
Nell was among the promising young Baptist women tapped by Virginia Woman’s Missionary Union to go to the Training School in Louisville, Ky. There she met Robert Thompson, a Southern Seminary student from Georgia; and a year later, they were married.
Nell described her wedding: “The WMU gave a shower at the rehearsal, the bride’s dress was borrowed, the church was decorated free of charge by a local florist who wanted the honor of decorating for the first wedding [in the new sanctuary], and the pre-nuptial luncheon was provided.” Even under humble circumstances, Nell’s flair was contagious and friends and well-wishers had provided.
Following seminary, the Thompsons moved to Halifax County, Va. where Robert served five years on a field of rural churches and Nell was the church pianist. In 1956 they moved to Botetourt County and his pastorate of the historic Mill Creek Baptist Church. The new pastor’s wife absorbed everything about the church’s history. She also sought to understand and appreciate the people. She did anything and everything: preparing church bulletins, teaching Sunday school and missions, singing in the choir, leading the BTU and Vacation Bible School.
In her history of Mill Creek Church, Nell described Bob’s pastorate from 1956-67 and stated forthrightly for the record the story of her husband’s suffering depression, a brain disease and tragic disability. She faced the crisis of Bob’s dilemma in a straight-forward, up-front manner; and in so doing, she kept her own self respect and earned the respect of everyone else.
Nell Thompson summoned inner strength, fortitude and spiritual resources to survive what could have destroyed a person. She continued teaching and managed to acquire a home of her own and to send the couple’s daughter, Robin, to college. When she retired from teaching, she took her unused sick-leave pay and provided a set of hand bells for Mill Creek, presenting them in honor of her husband.
Others recognized that Nell possessed gifts, including the skill and perseverance of a researcher, the understanding and appreciation of the people with whom she lived most of her life and the ability to be an effective storyteller. She wrote the history of the Roanoke Valley Baptist Association, a 350-page book which became a model history of an association. In 1996-98 she was president of the Virginia Baptist Historical Society.
In retirement, she championed the creation of one of the Virginia Baptist Homes in the western reaches of Virginia and when The Glebe was opened, Nell was among the first residents.
On the last day of January, the hand bells she donated to Mill Creek were played brilliantly at her own memorial service. She had planned every aspect: the choice of hymns, a trumpeter, speakers and the hand bells. Like everything she planned, the service exuded her flair.
Fred Anderson ([email protected]) is executive director of the Virginia Baptist Historical Society and the Center for Baptist Heritage and Studies.