What you see here are the sad remains of what was once one of the most striking churches in the Georgia backcountry—Ezekiel Methodist Church—which finally succumbed to the elements in 2024. Built in 1899 by master builder Manning Thigpen, the church was named in memory of his young son, Ezekiel, who died at the age of twelve. Ezekiel rests in Kettle Creek Cemetery between his parents, a reminder of the family loss that inspired this sanctuary.

The little church served the Pebble Hill community in Ware County during the pre–World War I years, a time when this rural region was still far removed from major roads like U.S. Highway 1. A one-room schoolhouse once stood beside it, making the church and school the heart of the settlement. Local memory also recalls the area as a stopover for wagon caravans bound for St. Marys, where families collected salt water to evaporate into salt—an essential resource for cooking and preserving meat.

Ezekiel was likely built as a sister church to Old Ruskin Church, also in Ware County. The two shared nearly identical designs, but while Old Ruskin has been lovingly maintained, Ezekiel was not so fortunate. A 1968 newspaper article noted that the church had been renovated for “a few hundred dollars,” yet no long-term preservation followed. As the rural population declined, the congregation faded, and the roof began to fail. With each passing season, the structure grew weaker until its collapse. Had a tin roof been added during repairs, as many long-lasting rural churches enjoyed, Ezekiel might still stand today.

The story of Ezekiel Methodist is a familiar one—of rural sanctuaries lost to time, weather, and neglect. At HRCGA, our mission is to record these fading landmarks before they disappear altogether, while also calling attention to those that might still be saved with modest resources and community care.

We honor the craftsmanship of Manning Thigpen and the legacy of the families who once gathered here. Scroll the gallery above to see Ezekiel’s decline and, in contrast, the proud silhouette of Old Ruskin, still standing tall among the Georgia pines. One is gone, the other preserved—but both remind us of what is at stake in the effort to save Georgia’s rural treasures.