The judge looked between the middle-aged couple before him.
“Are you two sure this is what you want?” He asked, frowning looking down at the divorce paperwork and the empty line awaiting his signature.
The husband nodded, hat in hand, as the wife looked away in disgust.
Sighing and shaking his head, the judge moved to signed the documents. Then, from out in the hall, there was a sound.
At first it was hard to make out, but it grew in intensity, like a storm rolling in over the plain.
“Is that…a marching band?” Asked the judge.
The door to his chambers burst open, and in rushed the singing, dancing, tambourine and accordion playing parishioners of the Holiness Church.
They surrounded the couple, praising the Lord and signing about his unconditional love for the the couple. Also about how, unequivocally, the couple wasn’t getting divorced. They made such a ruckus the judge buried his head in his hands.
“What are we supposed to do?” Shouted the husband, panicking.
The judge tore the divorce papers in half. “Looks like you’d better kiss and make up.” He pointed to the mob of the faithful behind them. “Or answer to them.”
It was like any other day at the Memphis courthouse in 1933. Until the Holiness Church descended upon an unsuspecting judge’s office to stop the divorce of two of their long standing members. For fifteen minutes, the courthouse was overrun by them, singing and dancing and praising until the judge agreed to tear up the divorce papers. It is unclear how things worked out for the couple.