One trick I’ve learned on this trip was that I have to be patient to be lucky. The number of “Concords” of Georgia has proven to be frustrating to define. I always thought there was only one Concord in Georgia, a fine old town in Pike County south of Atlanta. I had a great visit there in 2018, but while I was there, I found two more Concords in Georgia, so I raced around the state to visit those two. As I was writing up that visit, I stumbled across a dozen other places called “Concord” in Georgia. When I zoomed in on Google maps, I found that some of these places were just a cemetery or a street name, and didn’t appear to qualify as a place once or currently called “Concord.” However, I did have a new list that required a second visit down to Georgia. Staying at the home of my friends Ann Marie and Rawson, we headed out on an adventure to visit the rest of the Concords in Georgia. While I try to find a contact either through web searches or genealogy websites in each Concord Before I visit, sometimes I just have to show up and see what happens. Concord, in Walker County, lies near Villanow, which is another unincorporated town. The Concord United Methodist Church was marked on the map, and there was a Concord Road and a Concord River and other signs that there once was a community in the area. We arrived near midday and drove down Old Concord Road and Concord Road, but there was no sign of life, but we were patient. We stopped at the church and took some pictures and finally just waited awhile in the shade. I figured if we were obvious enough, someone would be curious. Sure enough, a pickup truck slowly rolled up to us. I walked up to the cab, and the driver rolled down his window. I gave Gilbreth and Bertha my spiel about visiting the Concords of America. The initial response was underwhelming: “Well, we are heading off.” “Pleasure meeting you.” I replied, and then Bertha chirped up, “I got some information on Con-cord.” This chance encounter led to a most pleasant visit. They lived about a ¼ mile away, on top of a well-shaded hill. Bertha went searching for a pamphlet of the history of the Concord Methodist Church, while Gilbreth, Rawson and Ann Marie sat on rocking chairs on the porch. I wandered outside the barn. Each side was a new tableau. Bertha returned triumphantly with the pamphlet. “It’s supposed to be the oldest church around Walker county, I reckon.” “They don’t nobody hardly go there very much…. The minister comes every second Sunday. I think it’s just one family that comes.” “The History of Concord United Methodist Church, near near(sic) Villanow, Georgia” contains some 16 pages of local history, stories, and lists of traveling preachers and temporary pastors. “In the year 1842, a preacher began coming on horseback and sometimes on foot .. to bring the Gospel to the people who had settled in this Valley. The only pay he received was feed for his horse, and the hospitality of the people while he was here. The Rev. Peter Cartright was working for the Lord and had a great desire to win others to Christ. It is told how he acted at one time when some sheep had been stolen in a community where he was preaching; when he took his place in the pulpit, he had a rock in his hand and said ‘In this way, I can find the guilty party; I am going to throw this rock out into the congregation. The Lord will make it hit the guilty man.’ He drew back as if to throw and a man dodged. ‘There is your guilty man, the sheep-stealer,” he said.” The Concord Church was organized in 1844, and the first building was a log cabin 20’ by 24’ that acted as the local schoolhouse also. A new two-story building was erected in 1851 that served as a church and a Masonic Lodge. “Soon after the establishment of the Church, a campground was laid-off. Annually until the Civil War, a camp meeting was held. A 60’ x 90’ arbor was erected all hewn from oak logs. People came from far and near to attend these meetings. The crowds were estimated at 1,500 people. Houses were built to accommodate the throng. Houses built mostly of logs contained sleeping rooms, porches, and passageways. Cooking and eating was done in the open. Visitors and strangers were given a hearty welcome. Great numbers of horses, oxen, wagons, and carts crowded together. Those who did not have housing or tents slept in their covered wagons as shelter.” The lady’s prayer meeting would start at 8 AM in the grove “Often there were praises and hallelujahs. It was said that the shouting would begin in the grove and continue until the 3 o’clock services began.” Sometime only one family member could attend. “Uncle Ezekiel Harris once said ‘Me and my wife both could not come, and I told her that she had better stay at home and let me come since there was no danger of her falling from grace.” These camp meetings were held in September and would last five days “People would return home with their souls fed from the Word, to talk about the great experience and to long for the next annual meeting.” “I was told you could smell cabbage cooking across the camp ground. It came to my mind how distasteful to God the odor of the burnt offering were, but I knew the cabbage odor was not held against those who came with clean hands and pure heart.” The community butchered a pig, and cow a goat and sheep to feed the visitors “The women must be baking light-bread, sweet bread, and ginger bread. Stacks of pies were baked. Those who had more of the world’s goods would share with others to help them get ready for the Camp Meeting.” The camp meetings were discontinued during The Civil War but resumed and continued until 1892. During the Civil War, the church was used as the headquarters for a general (unnamed) while guns and ammunition were stored on the first floor. Soldiers bunked on the second floor. There were many answers given for why the camp meetings ended. One said, “The people were too poor to take care of the preacher.” Another reason may have been that apple brandy sellers were following the preaching circuit. At the final meeting in 1892, a man named Longley kept driving his wagon through the middle of the campgrounds. “Mr. Surrett was bailiff and tried to stop him, but he was persistent and went on. The bailiff picked-up a piece of plank and stopped him very forcefully and effectively.” While “the singing, praying and preaching was very pleasing to God, but the evil had to get his work in.” The poverty of the post-war south led to the disintegration of the once powerful congregation. The handsome church lured in preachers, but they rarely stayed more than a year. Annual salaries were often less than $100. There were 50 different pastors in the 80 years between 1870 and 1950. The pastor in 1950 was paid $150. I returned the pamphlet to Bertha, and we settled in for a nice chat, punctuated by long pauses when we just sat there listening to the sounds of nature. Gilbreth and Bertha have about 300 acres on which they raise fatten calves. Over the years they reared goats, sheep, cattle and two boys. They’ve always had chickens, but these days the wildlife: foxes, coyotes and bald eagles keep killing the hens. The boys will take over the farm soon, but they still go down to feed the calves every day. “What do we like about Con-cord? Well, it’s our home.”