Ray Stevens – “The Mississippi Squirrel Revival”

“Scroll down to the end of the article to listen to music.”

Introduction

Have you ever heard a song that just makes you laugh out loud every time it comes on? That’s “The Mississippi Squirrel Revival” for you. It’s one of those tunes that doesn’t just get stuck in your head—it plays out like a mini-comedy show right in your ears. Imagine a mischievous squirrel wreaking havoc in a sleepy Southern town’s church, and you’ve got the gist of this hilariously heartwarming song.

The genius of “The Mississippi Squirrel Revival” lies in its storytelling. The song spins a yarn about a young boy who, quite innocently, brings a wild squirrel to church. This isn’t just any church session, though—it turns into utter chaos when the squirrel escapes and starts darting from pew to pew. What unfolds is a series of confessions and revelations, as the congregation starts admitting to their sins in the midst of the pandemonium, hoping for divine forgiveness as the squirrel scurries around.

What makes this song truly special is the way it captures a slice of Southern life with humor and a bit of cheekiness. The imagery is so vivid that you can almost see the old ladies fainting and the men shouting, turning a regular Sunday into a spectacle of revelations and laughter. It’s not just a song; it’s a community experience packed into a few minutes of uproarious melody.

“The Mississippi Squirrel Revival” isn’t just funny; it’s a reminder of the unpredictable moments that bring communities together, showing us that sometimes, it takes a little chaos to see the humor in our human follies. The song has a timeless appeal, resonating with anyone who appreciates a good story and a good laugh, making it a cherished piece in the annals of country music.

Video

Lyrics

Ooh, ooh
Well, when I was kid, I’d take a trip
Every summer, down to Mississipp’
To visit my granny in her Antebellum world
I’d run barefooted all day long
Climbing trees, free as a song
One day, I happened to catch myself a squirrel
Well, I stuffed him down in an old shoebox
And punched a couple holes in the top
When Sunday came, I snuck him into church
Well, I sit way back in the very last pew
Showin’ him to my good buddy Hugh
When that squirrel got loose and went totally berserk!
Well, what happened next is hard to tell
Some thought it was Heaven, others thought it was Hell
But the fact that something was among us was plain to see
As the choir sang “I surrender all”
The squirrel ran up Harv Newlan’s coveralls
Harv leaped to his feet and said
“Something’s got a hold on me! Yeah!”
The day the squirrel went berserk
In the First Self-Righteous Church
In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula (Pascagoula)
It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival
They were jumpin’ pews and shouting “Hallelujah!” (Hallelujah!)
You know Harv hit the aisles dancin’ and screamin’
Some thought he had religion, others thought he had a demon
And Harv thought he had a Weed Eater loose in his Fruit-of-the-Looms
He fell to his knees to plead and beg
And that squirrel ran out of his britches leg
Unobserved, to the other side of the room
All the way down to the amen pew
Where sat Sister Bertha better-than-you
Who’d been watchin’ all the commotion with sadistic glee
You should’ve seen that look in her eyes
When that squirrel jumped her garters and crossed her thighs
She jumped to her feet and said, “Lord! Have mercy on me!”
As that squirrel made laps inside her dress
She began to cry and then to confess
To sins that would make a sailor blush with shame
She told the gossip and church dissension
But the thing that got the most attention
Was when she talked about her love life
And then she started naming names
The day the squirrel went berserk
In the First Self-Righteous Church
In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula (Pascagoula)
It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival
They were jumpin’ pews and shouting “Hallelujah!” (Hallelujah!)
Well, seven deacons and then the pastor got saved
And 25, 000 dollars was raised
And 50 volunteered for missions in the Congo on the spot
And even without an invitation
There were at least 500 rededications
And we all got re-baptized whether we needed it or not
Now you’ve heard the Bible story, I guess
How He parted the waters for Moses to pass
All the miracles God has brought to this ol’ world
But the one I’ll remember ’til my dyin’ day
Is how He put that church back on the narrow way
With the heart praise and a Mississippi squirrel
The day the squirrel went berserk
In the First Self-Righteous Church
In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula (Pascagoula)
It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival
They were jumpin’ pews and shouting “Hallelujah!” (Hallelujah!)
The day the squirrel went berserk
In the First Self-Righteous Church
In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula (Pascagoula)
It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival
They were jumpin’ pews and shouting “Hallelujah!” (Hallelujah!)

Country Music

Emmylou Harris Returned to the Ryman After the Balcony Had Become Too Dangerous to Use In 1970, Emmylou Harris was serving drinks at the Hi-Hat Lounge near the Ryman Auditorium. Her daughter was an infant. Harris had not yet found a durable place in the music business, and customers sometimes came into the lounge after attending shows at the Ryman. She later remembered thinking that perhaps she would see a performance inside the building someday. Twenty-one years later, she entered through the stage door with a new acoustic band and recording equipment. The Grand Ole Opry had moved away in 1974. Although preservation work had begun on the Ryman’s exterior, the interior remained badly neglected. The balcony was considered unsafe, and no audience member could sit in it or beneath it. Only about 200 people were placed in a narrow section of the lower floor. From April 30 through May 2, 1991, Harris and the Nash Ramblers played three concerts there. The band included Sam Bush, Roy Huskey Jr., Larry Atamanuik, Al Perkins and a young Jon Randall. Instead of building the performances around Harris’s radio hits, they prepared country, bluegrass and folk material that was largely new to their stage set. The conditions shaped the sound. Acoustic instruments moved through a room built before electronic amplification. The empty balcony and unused pews became part of the recording’s air. The musicians could hear why singers had once regarded the Ryman as an instrument of its own. Released in 1992, At the Ryman won a Grammy. More importantly for the building, the album and accompanying film allowed the public to see the old auditorium as a working music room rather than an obsolete shrine. In March 1993, its owner announced a full interior rehabilitation. The Ryman reopened as a concert hall and museum in June 1994. Harris did not restore the building by herself; preservationists, owners, architects and workers carried that responsibility across many years. What she did was place live music back inside before the renovation was certain. The balcony remained empty for those three nights. The room below it proved the building was not finished.

Country Music

Marty Robbins suffered his first major heart attack in August 1969, at forty-three. Five months later, doctors opened his chest for coronary bypass surgery, a procedure still new enough that survival could not be treated as routine. Between those two events, Robbins recorded “My Woman, My Woman, My Wife.” The woman was Marizona Baldwin, whom he had married in 1948. She had known him before “El Paso,” the Grand Ole Opry, television shows and the stock cars he drove at speeds few heart patients would have considered sensible. By 1969, they had been married for more than twenty years and had raised two children. Robbins later connected the song to his hospitalization, saying the experience showed him what a woman endured across a shared life. Over time, the story hardened into the image of him writing the entire lyric from a hospital bed. His biographer found evidence that the song existed earlier and was likely refined during his illness. Robbins himself once told Ralph Emery that he had written it on a bus. The less cinematic truth carries more weight. The heart attack did not necessarily create the song. It changed what Robbins understood himself to be saying. He recorded it on January 2, 1970. On January 27, surgeons operated on his blocked coronary arteries. He recovered quickly enough to receive an Academy of Country Music award three months later and returned to NASCAR competition that October. “My Woman, My Woman, My Wife” reached No. 1 and earned Robbins the Grammy for Best Country Song. Its language belonged to an older style of marriage, but its gratitude was specific: a restless man acknowledging the person who had absorbed the consequences of his restlessness. Robbins would live with heart disease for the remainder of his life. He kept touring, recording and racing until shortly before his death in 1982. The song survived as a love letter to Marizona. It did not need to have been born beside a hospital bed. The man who carried it into the studio already knew the words. The failing heart taught him how little time he might have left to mean them.

Country Music

WHEN WILLIE NELSON’S CHILDHOOD CHURCH WAS PUT UP FOR SALE, AN OLD FRIEND CALLED HIM In 2006, only a handful of worshippers remained inside the small Methodist church in Abbott, Texas. The denomination decided to close it. The white wooden building where Willie Nelson and his sister Bobbie had sung as children was placed on the market and could have been moved away for use as a wedding chapel. A longtime Abbott resident named Bernice Pope heard what was happening and contacted Don Reed, one of Willie’s oldest friends. Reed called Willie. Willie’s instruction was brief: make an offer. He purchased the church and entrusted Reed with keeping it open. This was not intended to become a Willie Nelson museum or another performance property. Willie wanted it to remain a church for the town that had raised him. The building contained some of his earliest musical education. Willie and Bobbie had been raised by their grandparents, who brought them to services and encouraged their music. Bobbie played the church piano. Willie sang hymns, learned guitar and absorbed songs long before Nashville knew either sibling’s name. The reopened church was celebrated with a Sunday service in July 2006. Willie stood beside Bobbie’s piano, joined by family, friends and Leon Russell. They sang “Uncloudy Day,” “I’ll Fly Away,” “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” and “Precious Memories.” After the famous visitors left, the building returned to smaller work. Don and Joyce Reed cared for the property. Services continued. The church helped support scholarships for local students. Management later passed to another caretaker chosen before Reed’s death. Willie also bought Abbott’s old cash grocery around the same time because he did not want the town to lose its store. Neither purchase could reverse every force emptying small American communities. They kept two doors from closing. Years later, Willie and Bobbie returned to the sanctuary and performed “Family Bible” around the piano. By then they had played stages across the world. In Abbott, the room still asked only that Bobbie sit down and Willie stand beside her.

Ray Stevens – “The Mississippi Squirrel Revival”

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