Nattie Greer Counted Funeral Cars to Gauge Community Standing

Nattie Grover Grannison Greer spent his final decades in a small gray house in Mississippi, where he sat in a swiveling brown chair by a corner window. From that fixed position, he observed the road in front of his home and the fields across it. His primary activity during the day was reading his Bible, a routine he maintained for years without attending the nearby Ephesus Baptist Church.

The specific ritual that defined his later years involved watching funeral processions. When a hearse left the church, half a mile from his residence, Greer would sit on the front porch swing or in his chair to count the vehicles following. He did not use his sharpened pencil to record the totals. Instead, he relied on memory to recall the exact number of cars with their headlights on as they traveled to the cemetery. He would share these figures with his children later in the day, stating simply how many vehicles had passed.

Greer's daughter, his youngest of eleven children, interpreted the habit as a method for measuring the popularity of the deceased within the community. She noted that her father never explicitly stated this reasoning; he only provided the numerical data. The counts varied widely, ranging from eight cars to as many as fifty-seven. The precision of his observation required a quiet environment, prompting his granddaughter to act as a shusher to keep her cousins silent while he worked.

The family believes Greer stopped attending church services due to a personal conflict involving his oldest son, Frank. Frank served in the Korean War and was listed as missing in action. Two years after he went missing, the military sent a letter declaring him presumed dead. A memorial service was held at Ephesus Baptist Church without a body. The family subsequently began receiving a small monthly sum from the military for his service.

A neighbor who rented a house nearby commented to Greer that he had received his money's worth out of Frank. Greer’s daughter recalled the remark with emotion, noting her surprise that her father did not physically confront the man. Although Greer never spoke directly about the incident, he never cared for the neighbor again. The family speculates that this interaction contributed to his decision to stop sitting in the front row of the church, known as the Amen corner.

Greer was born in the 1800s and received a third-grade education. He was already elderly when his granddaughter was born. He died when she was twelve years old. By that time, the family had lived on an unnamed road for decades. Long after his death, emergency services arrived in the area, and the county officially named the road after him. His granddaughter noted that he was not a man who enjoyed crowds or attention, so she is uncertain whether he would have appreciated the recognition.

Greer is buried at Antioch, not in the cemetery where he counted so many processions. He is interred next to his first wife, Lottie May Robinson Greer, who died on June 18, 1928, at the age of 29. They had five children together, one of whom died at birth. A hospital receipt found later in Greer's trunk suggests his first wife died from a heart condition. His second wife, Mattie Mae Sephton Greer, died at 93 in 1991. She is buried on his other side. Her headstone lists their marriage date as April 13, 1929. His granddaughter rode in one of the cars that followed him to Antioch, though she does not know the total count.