Evangelist. Volunteer. Mentor. Trailblazer.
Those are the words used to describe an incredible woman who went beyond boundaries, challenged gender and racial norms and used her faith to transcend barriers. This is the story of Evangelist Rose Armstead.
“Everybody knew Evangelist Rosie Armstead,” said her daughter, Velma Davis. “Everybody knew her. She was determined, and she kept striving to spread the Word to young people, for them to live a better life than what can be described as the street life.”
Born on a sharecropping farm on Feb. 22, 1907 near the Thornton community in Holmes County, Armstead was the oldest child of Lucius and Dora Johnson. After the passing of her mother when she was only six years old, Armstead was raised by her father and paternal aunts in the sharecropping community.
But it was later in life that Armstead’s true calling came to fruition. She was a very active member of her family’s church, Calvary Baptist Church. But in the 1940s, she took a far more active role than just a member.
Aaron Dorsey, her great grandson, has spent many hours doing research on his family history. He compiled the details surrounding Armstead’s entrance into the ministry.
“In the late 1940s, she received ‘The Calling’ to spread the Word of God,” Dorsey writes. “Following this divine call, she began preaching in Yazoo City’s red-light district, a bold and unconventional move that mirrored the work of early evangelists who sought to bring faith to society’s most marginalized populations.”
Davis said her mother was a champion of reaching out to young people. She was determined to spread the Word to the younger generation, set the tone and correct their paths in life.
“She wanted to minister to young people, to get the Word out,” Davis said. “She had gone through a lot in her younger years, and she knew what it meant to find a better life. She wanted to spread that message to the young people.”
But Armstead’s desires to spread the Gospel met its challenges. Being a female, her initial attempts to become ordained were met with resistance. Women’s roles were typically reserved with secondary positions, such as choir directors, Sunday School teachers or missionaries.
“But she was determined to still spread the Word,” Davis said. “She kept striving to get that. It was at Bethel A.M.E. Church, where they agreed to ordain her a minister.”
After her ordination, Armstead was able to sit in the pulpit with the other male ministers, wear the customary collar and robe and preach, Davis added.
Pretty soon, Armstead went beyond the walls of Bethel A.M.E., attending other denominations. And although her status as a minister may not have been recognized in some churches, her worship, praise and testimony continued.
“She had a booklet made with the Word and her photograph,” Davis said. “She would go out into the streets with it. She didn’t want to just stay behind a pulpit. She wanted to go everywhere, praising the Lord.”
It was during this time she became known as “Evangelist Rosie Armstead.”
“Her ministry extended beyond the church walls,” Dorsey said. “For years, she dedicated herself to serving the sick by visiting Afro-American Hospital in Yazoo City, a historic institution and the only Black-owned and operated hospital in Mississippi. Every Sunday morning, Rosie would visit patients, offering prayers, comfort, and encouragement.”
And, soon afterwards, Armstead’s message was met with technology. She held virtual worship services on WAZF AM in Yazoo City, every Sunday at 6 a.m., for over a decade.
“This radio ministry allowed her to connect with a broader audience, spreading the gospel to listeners who may not have been able to attend church due to illness, work obligations, or racial segregation policies,” Dorsey said. “Her program ran for over a decade until her health began to decline.”
“And the local businesses supported her, both black and white,” Davis added. “They would sponsor her program and kept it going for over ten years.”
Beyond her feet-on-the-ground ministry, Davis said it was her mother’s hymnal singing that she remembers quite frequently. The song? Come and Go with Me.
“She would sing it with Nancy Hudson, who still sings that song today,” Davis said, with a smile.
Come and go with me to that land where I'm bound. There'll be freedom in that land where I'm bound. There'll be justice in that land where I'm bound. There'll be singin' in that land where I'm bound.
Armstead had an unwavering faith and a progressive style, states her daughter Odell Armstead.
“The way she worshipped and praised back then, she could have been called a nondenominational minister of praise and worship,” she said. “She was ahead of her time in the way she worshipped."
Progressive, yes. But the traditional foundation remained. Armstead took her life’s journey, her praises and struggles, and transformed them into a relatable ministry that transcended barriers.
“I took all my children to church,” Davis said. “She had that influence on me. I feel for her as a young lady. But she was determined to spread the Word.”
