Following is a random gallery of some of my favorite photographs of Youngs Chapel Methodist Church in Ben Hill County. Since its no longer with us, I thought I’d share. I’ve made around a thousand photographs over the years, so it was difficult to pick just a few. I hope you enjoy them as much I enjoyed making them.
When I first photographed Youngs Chapel, in 1999, I was just beginning to appreciate historic architecture around my hometown of Fitzgerald.
I was nearly 30 at the time, and though I had spent far too much time rambling the back roads of the area, Young’s Chapel was new to me. It was proof that even in a small county, there was always something new to discover.
At the time, the church still had a wooden sign on the front porch, the roof was still intact, and most of the wall boards were intact. The pews were also still present, before being removed by a family member for safe keeping.
I learned of the existence of the church through an article in our local paper, and armed with a good county road map (this was before our phones became our navigators), I easily located it.
Over time, Youngs Chapel became an anchor in my travels around Georgia. Even after I had documented all 159 of the state’s counties, it held a special place in my heart.
On visits home to Ben Hill County, I usually made the 18 mile trek out to its northwestern corner to “check on the church”.
For me, it was a symbol of everything I wanted to photograph, the forgotten simple places people built to serve immediate and utilitarian needs.
When I went to check on the church at Thanksgiving, I had a heightened sense of worry. When I turned onto Youngs Chapel Road off the Lower Rebecca Road, I had a strange feeling, and as I got closer, I couldn’t see the familiar roofline in the distance.
Upon my approach, my worst fears were confirmed. Youngs Chapel, already weakened by a tornado and long abandoned, had collapsed sometime earlier. Somehow, I knew before I arrived that it was gone.
And so ends the long history of just another country church, lost not to lack of concern but to the elements.
The place wasn’t just an anchor for my travels and discoveries. It was also the center of a long lost community and held a special place in the hearts of the families who sustained it for over a century.
People moved away but their descendants still came and kept its grounds manicured and its cemetery free of weeds and brambles as long as they could.
Youngs Chapel was built in the waning years of the 1800s and was the heart of the long forgotten Ashley community.
Congregants first met in a brush arbor circa 1875.
They built this church, but moved it to its present location about three miles from its first home, circa 1890.
The land was donated by John Thomas Young, an area pioneer, and may have been named for him. It possibly had another name when it was organized.
The congregation dwindled over time, as older members died and younger generations moved away.
The last renovations to Youngs Chapel were made in 1971 and by 1974, the church was closed.
I like to think that the members would be shocked by all the interest in this little building that was their church home, but I think they would be proud of what they built and how long it lasted.
I am sad for the building and bemoan its loss, but I’m thankful that I was able to document it and share it with the wider world.
Thank you for sharing these. Sad…
Sad. But, fantastic photograhy!
Brian,
Thank you for all your work in documenting pieces of Georgia history that would otherwise be lost to the ages. If there were an award given for doing so, it would surely be yours. Your photographs are a testament to the sturdy folk who settled these parts, eked a difficult life out of the elements, and managed to survive and somehow prosper. Current populations owe them a great deal.
The piano in your photographs is a touching counterpoint to how strongly the congregation of this small country church embraced it. It might not have cost much to saw/plane planks for the rudimentary pews that fill this church. But the dedication to the place it took to accumulate the funds necessary to acquire and install a piano — in those difficult time — speaks volumes about the people who lived here.
A testament not easily recognized; but preserved here, forever, in your photographs.
A simple, but greatly inadequate, “Thank you.”
I got a real sense of the place through your pictures and descriptions. Although I’ve never been there, I could imagine all the ceremonies that took place there, smell the BBQ at a church picnic, feel the love circulating through the congregation and up to heaven through the clear blue Georgia sky. Thank you for your work.