New Providence Presbyterian Church, Mercer County, Kentucky

I grew up steeped in history, stories, and the Presbyterian Church (note: this is not a proselytizing post). My mother may have moved to her husband’s hometown, surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of his kinfolk, all attendees of the local First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), but she was not going to give up her family’s devotion to all things Presbyterian. So for a while, the young married couple attended two different churches on Sunday morning, just a few doors down from one another on Main Street.

My paternal grandmother’s keen ears caught whispering about this peculiar practice (this was the late 1960s), and she took my father aside. With what I imagine were a few choice words, she informed him that she would not listen to gossip about her only – and much adored – child, and he would attend church with his wife. So my father became a Presbyterian, and there isn’t a Sunday I don’t sit in church now and think about him: the pointed look when my sisters and I were giggling too much, or the twinkle in his eye when he would sing and sway back and forth, well aware that his lack of musical talent prompted more stifled laughter from us.

The point of this story is that visiting the various small Presbyterian churches (and cemeteries) of my mother’s people was part of the historic education of my childhood. Chief among the buildings was a small, handsome brick church from the 1860s in the rural community of McAfee, in Mercer County, Kentucky.

The facade of New Providence Presbyterian Church.

The simple and balanced facade of New Providence Presbyterian Church – a double doors flanked by large,  8/8 double-hung sash windows, each bay separated by brick pilasters – formed many of my early architectural preferences. The Flemish bond walls hearken back to an earlier stylistic influence (the Federal) and even the Greek Revival detailing is subdued, but powerful nonetheless in its spareness.

Undated historic photo (pre-1960) of the facade of New Providence. Photograph from the NRHP files.

Five windows pierce the side elevations, each bay again separated from the next by a brick pilaster with an elegant, slim capital. I’m not sure what changes have been made to the windows, though the bricks suggest alterations over time.

The south elevation.

Rather than monumentality or heaviness of stylistic details, the materials and form of this building speak visually, an arresting representation of vernacular tradition, the “Greek Revival country church.”*

New Providence is one of the oldest Presbyterian congregations in Kentucky, formed in 1784 by David Rice, the first Presbyterian minister in the Commonwealth.  Later, the church was heavily involved with the formation of Presbyterian Churches and the governing bodies of the denomination in the state.

A detail of the entryway, with it Greek Revival detailing.

My great-great-grandmother, Lucy Renfrew Latta Johnson, attended church in this building. I grew up on stories of Lucy too, and although we have no photographs of her, I see her vividly in my mind. According to family lore, she was independent, strong-willed, lively, and loved horses. When Civil War troops pillaged and stole livestock and horses in the summer of 1863, Lucy’s horse was taken. Somehow, she managed to follow the troops and reclaim her mount – that’s how the story was told to me, anyway.

One of the windows on the north wall of the sanctuary.

Many years later, her son (my great-grandfather) would travel to Chattanooga, Tennessee, to try and find the burial location of Lucy’s older brother, who died at the Battle of Missionary Ridge. I like to imagine that Lucy’s quest to recover her horse was fueled by anger and grief over Jimmy’s death. He joined Basil Duke’s 2nd Kentucky Calvary on July 15, 1862, and was dead a month later.

Following the death of John Latta, her first husband, Lucy remarried – to a veteran of the Union army. There were gasps about this, and I can picture Lucy grinning at her detractors and daring them to say something to her.

The north end of the entry vestibule.

The interior of New Providence is divided into an entry vestibule with a curved staircase at either end, and the sanctuary, the two aisles of which are accessed by two sets of four-panel double  doors with Greek Ear trim. The stairs lead to the gallery, which has been partially enclosed.

I didn’t get to the gallery, as I hadn’t planned on being able to go inside when I pulled over to take a photograph of the church, and my long-suffering mother was waiting in the car. (Yes, she should have known that her history lessons would lead me astray…)

Looking toward the facade of the church, toward the enclosed gallery/balcony.

The sanctuary has been modified over the years but the changes don’t detract from the space, which is filled with calmness. The floor has been redone, so that it slopes downward toward the pulpit (eastward) and is higher at the west end, which does cut off some of the door surround.

Looking northeast in the sanctuary.

In the northeast corner of the sanctuary is an organ that was recovered from the former Presbyterian Church in Salvisa, Kentucky – another rural brick church of a later vintage, later turned into an automotive garage.

This organ was originally in the Salvisa Presbyterian Church.

Unlike the church in Salvisa, which is in poor condition (it may have well fallen down by now), New Providence is still an active church. The membership is nowhere near the high of 1865, when Lucy Renfrew and 344 other people called it their church home. When the building was listed in the National Register of Historic Places, the congregation had dwindled to 70 souls.

I never anticipated being able to venture inside New Providence on happenstance – but I am so happy that I finally got to admire the church from both within and without.

*Guy Newland, New Providence Presbyterian Church. Nomination to the National Register of Historic Places. Listed 1975.