I am not for sure what to call myself nowadays other than a partially white haired, right wing extremist that has a deep concern about the country in which he lives. I guess I was raised somewhere between the roller skating crowd and the flower children and the hippies and soon after came the yuppies and preppies. Is there a name to my generation? I was once told the children of the late 50s should be called the instant generation due to calculators being introduced and instant mashed potatoes amongst other instant items becoming available in a box. Anyone that was born in the 50’s must have a deep concern about where we have been and where we are heading.
As a youngster, I remember Sundays as being the day of the Lord or Savior. This day started by having a small breakfast and then attending church. I will be presenting facts based on my childhood recollections and I realize all have not encountered what I have. At Church as a child, we went downstairs and played in the sandbox and had a great time with toys that I wish I could hold to this day. During that time, we were interrupted at play for a morning Sunday school lesson. I have no idea who the instructor was at the time, but the Great Stories from the bible she told are still with me.
I am not for sure if being raised as a Quaker was always the best way. I am not for sure why I always thought once doomed for hell there is no way back. Maybe that is why I was such a rebel. Hell, I didn’t have anything to loose.
Sometimes Church Service would last like ten hours . LOL. Not really but as a kid it seemed like all day and wow … Was my stomach ready for chicken and noodles! Just about every Sunday after church, we would have the best cooking in the World at our or Grandma’s house. Being raised on the farm, our family was never short of anything. We had a one acre garden patch, livestock, fruit trees and a small patch of vineyards and women that knew how to make it come together on the table. Chicken and noodles with fried Chicken, green beans, corn on the cob, gravy and biscuits was the norm.
I remember playing outside after we got home from church with a group of my church friends and, of course, my Sis. I came in for a drink instead of using the pump well to quench my thirst. When I was running through the living room, right off the kitchen and the family room, I was stopped by the minister with her arm out, saying, “Come here David”.