When I was growing up, the New Brighton, Pennsylvania, Free Methodist Church was like my second home. Our family was there every Sunday morning for Sunday School and worship. Then we returned at 7:00 PM for the evening service. Tuesday night was Christian Youth Crusaders (CYC) and Wednesday evening was the weekly prayer meeting.
Twice a year, we had week-long revivals that ran every night. On top of that were district quarterly meetings, district youth rallies and other special events. You get the picture.
When I was twelve years old, I decided to be brave; I announced to my father that I thought I was old enough to sit by myself in the Sunday night service. He responded that he and my mom would talk it over. I felt hopeful!
Shortly after that, he announced their decision: I could sit anywhere I wanted in worship on Sunday evenings - as long as it was in front of them! They sat in the third row!
A hollow victory....
Showing posts with label Childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Childhood. Show all posts
Sunday, January 8, 2017
Saturday, July 7, 2012
CAMP MEETING MEMORIES #3
Snippet Memories:
- The smell of the cottage.
- My Dad lifting me up onto the roof of the cottage to sweep off the branches.
- Falling asleep on my Mom's lap during church and having my Dad carry me to the cottage, put my pajamas on me and put me to bed!
- Sleeping in the same room as a family - with only curtains separating us!
- Trying to fall asleep while listening to my parents visiting with friends on the other side of the curtain!
- The first year I was allowed to sit anywhere in the front section of the tabernacle!
- The year I was 10, I got the eleven-day measles...ON THE FIRST DAY OF CAMP!
- My first case of "puppy-love" over Carolyn Van Valin - the song evangelist's daughter.
- Visiting my Grandma Haire at my Aunt Dorothy's cabin and eating her fresh-made peanut-butter cookies!
- Going to DairyLand and eating a 'Pig's Dinner' - an annual challenge for many. I still have the pin: "I was a Pig at DairyLand!
- Watching some older boys (PK’s) put M-80's in the old, drop toilets!
- The summer of 1966 when Cirkle's song, "Red Rubber Ball" hit the #1 spot on the charts!
- Bruce Kelly patiently giving every kid a ride around the campground on his1950 Harley-Davidson Motorcycle.
- When I was fourteen, (an unnamed) preacher's kid took me up on the ballfield to give me a sip of beer he had hidden there. It was the middle of the afternoon and it was HOT. I guess I owe him a debt of thanks for helping me to hate beer at an early age?
- The year Bobby Edinfield and I fell in love with one of the Whippo girls - it was Janie (and she was a little daredevil). We would take her up real high in a swing to try to scare her - but all she did was squeel with delight!
- Counting the number of times we sang verses of "Just As I Am" and seeing if it would break the previous night's record!
- Being impressed listening to every preacher give his benediction at the closing of camp!
- The intense sadness that came the day after camp - knowing that it would be a whole year before it would happen again!
Friday, July 6, 2012
CAMP MEETING MEMORIES #2
When I was a kid, getting to camp was all about FUN! The store was a big part of the fun. But that required money - and kids didn't have money in those days. As I said before, my Dad gave me a quarter a day to spend, and then there were the pop bottles. However, there was another rich source of income.
The tabernacle floor was dirt then. At time for camp every year, the men brought in bales of straw and spread it all through the tabernacle. When the offering was received, all the people would reach into their pockets to get to their money. In the process, change would fall into the straw. Therefore the straw was a goldmine of cash for the youngster willing to spend some time sifting through it!
Then, for the children, there was 'Camp-Within-A-Camp'. This was one of the coolest parts of camp to me. At the beginning of our morning lessons, we were led into the woods on the east end of camp. About fifty feet in we came to a small clearing known as 'Camp-Within-A-Camp'. Logs and boards were arranged for us to sit on. A rough, rustic pulpit stood before us. We would sing, pray, and hear a Bible story in this natural setting before heading back to the main camp for our individual classes and crafts.
We made the neatest things while at camp! I still have some of these items. Often, it would take the whole camp to complete the project. Some I remember:
And then, when we were old enough, we got to walk up into Thompson Park and climb the 'Big Rock'! Now, that was fun! I've been there recently, and it doesn't look as big; but at the time, it was quite a challenge. You could climb straight up the front, or sneak up an easier way on the back side (if you were tall enough to make the first step).
Camp was and is a wonderful place for kids!
The tabernacle floor was dirt then. At time for camp every year, the men brought in bales of straw and spread it all through the tabernacle. When the offering was received, all the people would reach into their pockets to get to their money. In the process, change would fall into the straw. Therefore the straw was a goldmine of cash for the youngster willing to spend some time sifting through it!
Then, for the children, there was 'Camp-Within-A-Camp'. This was one of the coolest parts of camp to me. At the beginning of our morning lessons, we were led into the woods on the east end of camp. About fifty feet in we came to a small clearing known as 'Camp-Within-A-Camp'. Logs and boards were arranged for us to sit on. A rough, rustic pulpit stood before us. We would sing, pray, and hear a Bible story in this natural setting before heading back to the main camp for our individual classes and crafts.
We made the neatest things while at camp! I still have some of these items. Often, it would take the whole camp to complete the project. Some I remember:
- a matchstick cross
- a small valuable-box with a tiled top
- a wallet that we engraved with special tools and weaved together with plastic thread
- whistle necklaces that we braided out of plastic thread
And then, when we were old enough, we got to walk up into Thompson Park and climb the 'Big Rock'! Now, that was fun! I've been there recently, and it doesn't look as big; but at the time, it was quite a challenge. You could climb straight up the front, or sneak up an easier way on the back side (if you were tall enough to make the first step).
Camp was and is a wonderful place for kids!
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
CAMP MEETING MEMORIES - #1
When I was a kid, Camp Meeting* was the second-best time of the year - beat out only by Christmas! We would literally move the twenty miles to East Liverpool and live in a rustic old cottage for ten or twelve days! We all slept in the same room. We ate our meals in the dining hall with lots of other people. I had a lot more freedom than I had at home!
There would be classes for children all morning. Then in the afternoon we would play softball. The camp store would be open. We kids would go around hunting for pop bottles to return to the store for a two-cent return. Three pop bottles got me a popcycle.
As I recall, my Dad gave me a quarter to spend every day! I was judicious about the way I spent it. I remember one year when a guy gave me a dollar and asked me to run to the store and buy him a bottle of pop. When I brought him the pop and the change, he told me to keep the change! It was the best thing that had happened up to that point in my life!
In the evening, everyone went to the tabernacle for church. The singing was amazing! There would be someone playing the piano and organ, and they always hired a special song-evangelist to lead the singing. Often the song-evangelist would put together a camp choir.
One year, Clyde VanValin was the song-evangelist. He announced choir practice and I showed up - I was ten years old. The adults started shooing me away, telling me I was too young to be in the choir. Reverend Van Valin saw this happening and intervened. He told me I was welcome to sing in the choir. I was so proud and happy. I clearly remember singing the hymn, "He Could Have Called Ten Thousand Angels". That song still moves me deeply today!
I made my first commitment to serve Jesus at camp. Every year challenged me spiritually and helped me root my faith more deeply! I even joined the church at camp; my pastor at that time was Harold Mitchell.
I still attend camp every year. I'm actually writing this blog while sitting in a cottage on the campground! I come every year looking forward to the spiritual growth that God is going to foster in my heart and life!
And when camp ends - just like when I was a kid - I'll start looking forward to Christmas! :-)
* We changed it to Family Camp when I was Director in the 80's.
There would be classes for children all morning. Then in the afternoon we would play softball. The camp store would be open. We kids would go around hunting for pop bottles to return to the store for a two-cent return. Three pop bottles got me a popcycle.
As I recall, my Dad gave me a quarter to spend every day! I was judicious about the way I spent it. I remember one year when a guy gave me a dollar and asked me to run to the store and buy him a bottle of pop. When I brought him the pop and the change, he told me to keep the change! It was the best thing that had happened up to that point in my life!
In the evening, everyone went to the tabernacle for church. The singing was amazing! There would be someone playing the piano and organ, and they always hired a special song-evangelist to lead the singing. Often the song-evangelist would put together a camp choir.
One year, Clyde VanValin was the song-evangelist. He announced choir practice and I showed up - I was ten years old. The adults started shooing me away, telling me I was too young to be in the choir. Reverend Van Valin saw this happening and intervened. He told me I was welcome to sing in the choir. I was so proud and happy. I clearly remember singing the hymn, "He Could Have Called Ten Thousand Angels". That song still moves me deeply today!
I made my first commitment to serve Jesus at camp. Every year challenged me spiritually and helped me root my faith more deeply! I even joined the church at camp; my pastor at that time was Harold Mitchell.
I still attend camp every year. I'm actually writing this blog while sitting in a cottage on the campground! I come every year looking forward to the spiritual growth that God is going to foster in my heart and life!
And when camp ends - just like when I was a kid - I'll start looking forward to Christmas! :-)
* We changed it to Family Camp when I was Director in the 80's.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
PUDDLE JUMPING
What makes a kid want to jump into puddles? Is it genuine inquiry? Is it discovery? Is it adventure? Does he realize his shoes and feet will get wet? Or doesn't that matter?
Why don't adults jump into puddles? Most of us will walk twice the distance just to avoid the puddles!
Are we afraid we'll get our shoes wet? Or our feet? Is that inconvenient? Instead of fun?
What changes in us that makes us stop this type of behavior?
Is there still a kid in you? A desire for fun? A yearning to explore? A sense of wonder at a water fountain?
When I was a kid on the Tri State Campground in East Liverpool, there were two things that made camp totally fascinating.
The first was the water fountain in front of the Oakland cottage on the top row. If you held your finger on it, you could squirt water twenty feet! It was a great way to surpise innocent passers-by!
The second was the daily arrival of the 'ice man'. Oh boy! He would drive his truck around the camp delivering ice to cottages with their sign hanging out. When he had to chip the ice, it would create lots of refreshment for all the kids following him like he was the Pied Piper!
As soon as he would disappear into a cottage, we'd hop on the truck to grap ice chips! Now that was the perfect recipe for fun because it also invovled risk!
Maybe that's the secret. Maybe as we grow older, we quit taking risks. And without knowing it, we quit having fun.
I'll be back.
It rained last night. I'm going out to look for some puddles!
Monday, April 23, 2012
PLANTING TREES
I was probably six or seven years old. My Dad took me along as we drove to a friend's house down on Oak Hill. In his back yard he had cultivated some silver maple saplings. We selected about four.
We took them home, dug some holes and planted them in strategic places in our yard. They varied in height from three to five feet. It was fun working with my Dad!
Those saplings grew much faster than I did! Before long, I was climbing them.
Over time, I helped top them several times. My Mom would comment every time, "Well, Leonard, I think you killed them this time." I always got the feeling that the neighbors were laughing at our work...
But the next year they would be just beautiful!
Dad and I raked the leaves and burned them in the yard every fall. I loved that job and the smell of burning leaves is still one of my favorites.
Hmmm. Is it because of the smell - or because it takes me back to good times with my Dad?
The next time I'm in New Brighton, I'll ride past and see if they're still there!
We took them home, dug some holes and planted them in strategic places in our yard. They varied in height from three to five feet. It was fun working with my Dad!
Those saplings grew much faster than I did! Before long, I was climbing them.
Over time, I helped top them several times. My Mom would comment every time, "Well, Leonard, I think you killed them this time." I always got the feeling that the neighbors were laughing at our work...
But the next year they would be just beautiful!
Dad and I raked the leaves and burned them in the yard every fall. I loved that job and the smell of burning leaves is still one of my favorites.
Hmmm. Is it because of the smell - or because it takes me back to good times with my Dad?
The next time I'm in New Brighton, I'll ride past and see if they're still there!
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
WHAT CAN A KID DO?
I just read yesterday about Thomas Edison. He gave us more than a thousand inventions which are integral and essential to modern life. Yet he was deaf from age twelve, and such a poor student he was unacceptable to the school, and had to educate himself.
Hmmmmm.
Stephen and Alex Kendrick, in their book The Resolution For Men write:
He writes (in Too Small To Ignore):
Unfortunately, in American culture we have created a relatively new view called adolescence. This view establishes a moratorium on responsibility and prolongs childhood indefinitely - sometimes through the twenties and into the thirties!
It's time to wake up!
Hmmmmm.
Stephen and Alex Kendrick, in their book The Resolution For Men write:
Alex and Brett Harris, authors (at age nineteen) of Do Hard Things, tell how history abounds with examples of young men who rose to the occasion after being given great responsibilities. At twelve, David Farragut, the U.S. Navy's first admiral, took command of his first ship by sailing a captured vessel back to America. George Washington began mastering geometry, trigonometry, and surveying at the same age as a modern fifth or sixth grader. At sixteen he became a county surveyor. At twenty-one he owned 2,300 acres of land. (p.62)Dr. Wes Stafford, President and CEO of Compassion International, is one of the world's greatest advocates for children. He tells of the responsibility he and the other children had in their African village. They contributed to the food supply by "harvesting a delicacy, the huge...fruit doves...as big as a chicken and just as tasty." They also protected the fields from marauding gorillas and monkeys by using their sling-shots to pelt them with rocks!
He writes (in Too Small To Ignore):
Kids want more than entertainment; they want the chance to make a difference...We simply must learn to engage our children and walk with them day by day to foster their dreams and make them come true...Children are more than we think they are; they can do more than we think they can do. All they need is a vote of confidence from grown-ups, whom they will ultimately replace anyway. Their dreams will become the realities of tomorrow. (pp.43,50-51)The Kendricks write: "When a young man is passive and irresponsible, he greatly limits his freedoms, opportunities, and successes. Whereas responsibility builds up a man and everything around him, the lack of it only weakens and destroys. Irresponsible men are dangerous to whatever they touch." (p.62)
Unfortunately, in American culture we have created a relatively new view called adolescence. This view establishes a moratorium on responsibility and prolongs childhood indefinitely - sometimes through the twenties and into the thirties!
It's time to wake up!
Friday, March 30, 2012
HIGH MOMENTS - CHILDHOOD
The feeling of security when my Mom would tuck me in!
Christmas every year!
Recess during 5th and 6th grades when I attended Thompson School on Mercer Road, outside of New Brighton, PA. We'd play kickball in the pasture.
Family Camp every summer - sleeping in the cottage and listening to the crickets!
Playing 'razzle-dazzle touch football' with Bob, Larry, and John up at Dr. Martsolf's after school.
Climbing the neighbor's tree at the end of the summer and eating cherries till we were full!
Playing 'kick-the-can' on summer nights with the Brighton Heights gang! The smell of lilacs while I was hiding in the lilac bush!
Watching the Beverly Hillbillies with my Mom while eating popcorn!
Playing Careers on the porch in August when it was too hot to do anything else.
Sleeping out in the backyard on warm, summer nights.
Camping at the Red House area of the Allegheny National Forest near Salamanca, New York, every summer
Playing catch with my Dad in the front yard.
CYC Camp every summer!
My Mom tickling my hair while I laid on the pew with my head on her lap.
Dad carrying me into the house and then Mom putting me to bed.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
NEIL CASTILUCCI
He was a big guy! He was a truck driver. He loved kids! I was a kid!
I grew up in a growing church that bussed kids in from poorer areas of a neighboring town. On Wednesday nights we had over one hundred kids in our Christian Youth Crusader program.
Neil was the CYC Director (along with his wife, Norma). Neil drove the bus to get the kids! Sometimes he would invite me to ride along - as his side-kick!
To be honest, we were all a little afraid of Neil; did I mention he was a big guy? So, we wanted to please him! And we knew that he had a gentle heart.
Neil and Norma would have the whole CYC come to their country house for outdoor parties. I remember how fun they were!
Eventually, I graduated into Neil's all-boy Sunday School Class. He took every boy out on his birthday. We were told that we could go anywhere we wanted - but Neil always managed to steer us to the New Brighton Hot Dog Shop where we could eat as much as we wanted!
Even though I had a great Dad, Neil still filled an important role-model need in my life! I respected him and admired him. At times, I envied his kids!
I am who I am today, partly because of his influence in my life! The world needs more Neils and Normas today!
Dear Lord,
Help me to adopt kids unofficially. Help me to give them attention and help them to know that Jesus loves them! Help me to never overlook them or make them feel insignificant! Help me to be generous with them. Help me to live my life in such a way that I point children to You!
Oh Yeah!
I grew up in a growing church that bussed kids in from poorer areas of a neighboring town. On Wednesday nights we had over one hundred kids in our Christian Youth Crusader program.
Neil was the CYC Director (along with his wife, Norma). Neil drove the bus to get the kids! Sometimes he would invite me to ride along - as his side-kick!
To be honest, we were all a little afraid of Neil; did I mention he was a big guy? So, we wanted to please him! And we knew that he had a gentle heart.
Neil and Norma would have the whole CYC come to their country house for outdoor parties. I remember how fun they were!
Eventually, I graduated into Neil's all-boy Sunday School Class. He took every boy out on his birthday. We were told that we could go anywhere we wanted - but Neil always managed to steer us to the New Brighton Hot Dog Shop where we could eat as much as we wanted!
Even though I had a great Dad, Neil still filled an important role-model need in my life! I respected him and admired him. At times, I envied his kids!
I am who I am today, partly because of his influence in my life! The world needs more Neils and Normas today!
Dear Lord,
Help me to adopt kids unofficially. Help me to give them attention and help them to know that Jesus loves them! Help me to never overlook them or make them feel insignificant! Help me to be generous with them. Help me to live my life in such a way that I point children to You!
Oh Yeah!
Saturday, February 4, 2012
BUZZY'S
I remember my father telling me about his first haircut. He was a teenager and his father took him. He said that when the barber touched his head with the electric shears, he felt a shock go through his whole body.
Then came the day that my Dad took me with him to Buzzy's Barber Shop. It was at the top of Ross Hill Road in Patterson Heights (Beaver Falls). The shop was located in a small corner of a fire hall, right beside Waite's Restaurant.
Buzzy was an older Italian man whose English I had a hard time understanding. He was stern and lacked a gentle hand. The shop smelled of tonics and colognes; it had a masculine fragrance that I enjoyed.
It was a male environment. I heard words there that I never heard at home. I remember my Dad winking at me when it happened. I was always the only boy there. Most men weren't willing to spend $.75 to get their son's hair cut.
My Dad always went first. It made me proud to be there with him. This was one of the few things we did together - it felt like a male rite of passage.
When it was my turn, Buzzy threw a booster seat on top of the arms to the barber chair. He covered me with a sheet and pinned it tightly around my neck. He mostly used his scizzors and seemed to enjoy making them work fast - whether he was actually cutting hair or not. I assumed that was just a hazard of being a professional barber!
When he was finished, he put Vitalis on my hair and combed it to look real nice.
I grew up going to Buzzy's with my Dad. Later, I drove there by myself. Then, I went to college and grew my hair long. When I would go home for a visit, I would often wake up on Saturday morning and find a dollar and a quarter on the corner of the kitchen table. I knew what it was for!
Then came the day that my Dad took me with him to Buzzy's Barber Shop. It was at the top of Ross Hill Road in Patterson Heights (Beaver Falls). The shop was located in a small corner of a fire hall, right beside Waite's Restaurant.
Buzzy was an older Italian man whose English I had a hard time understanding. He was stern and lacked a gentle hand. The shop smelled of tonics and colognes; it had a masculine fragrance that I enjoyed.
It was a male environment. I heard words there that I never heard at home. I remember my Dad winking at me when it happened. I was always the only boy there. Most men weren't willing to spend $.75 to get their son's hair cut.
My Dad always went first. It made me proud to be there with him. This was one of the few things we did together - it felt like a male rite of passage.
When it was my turn, Buzzy threw a booster seat on top of the arms to the barber chair. He covered me with a sheet and pinned it tightly around my neck. He mostly used his scizzors and seemed to enjoy making them work fast - whether he was actually cutting hair or not. I assumed that was just a hazard of being a professional barber!
When he was finished, he put Vitalis on my hair and combed it to look real nice.
I grew up going to Buzzy's with my Dad. Later, I drove there by myself. Then, I went to college and grew my hair long. When I would go home for a visit, I would often wake up on Saturday morning and find a dollar and a quarter on the corner of the kitchen table. I knew what it was for!
Saturday, January 28, 2012
DR. CHADWICK
I was delivered into this world by Dr. Chadwick. My parents must have respected him, since they gave me my middle name, Eugene, in his honor! I don't know how the relationship formed, but my Dad did odd jobs for Dr. Chadwick and his wife.
They lived in a beautiful colonial-style home across the street from the Beaver County Country Club. They owned the equivalent of four lots in this exclusive residential area. Every spring, my Dad would assemble their outdoor awning; then every fall take it down and pack it away.
I think my brother, Ira, worked for the Chadwick's. At the age of eleven, my Dad took me up to the doctor's house and trained me on how to work. Together, we mulched flower beds. My father taught me to work on my knees. If you're sitting down, Mrs. Chadwick might look out and think you're not working. He also taught me to work steady instead of working in hard spurts and then resting for awhile: "When Mrs. Chadwick looks out the window, you want her to always see you working!"
He taught me how to start and service the mowers. He showed me how to trim the trees and shrubs. I learned how to put a sharp edge around their many flower beds. And then, he turned the job over to me for the rest of the summer. The Chadwick's paid me a dollar and hour! I thought I was rich!
On Saturdays, I would ride my bike from my home on Brighton Heights, down through Oak Hill, across the 10th Street Bridge, under the 5th Street Bridge, up what we called "Story Book Hill", past the Country Club and to the Chadwick's. On the way home, after working all-day, I would change my path to pass Waite's Restaurant where I would splurge on a hot-fudge Sundae! It seemed to taste better because I bought it with my hard-earned money! Sitting in Waite's made me feel big!
Mrs. Chadwick (and her daughter, Joan) would always invite me in for lunch on Saturdays. They would have a table set for me in their kitchen. They used china settings with multiple pieces of silverware. I was nervous about eating properly. Mrs. Chadwick and Joan would stand and watch me eat. The food was always different from what I ate at home, but I enjoyed it.
I continued working for the Chadwick's until I left home for college at age 17. I am grateful to them - and especially to my Dad - for the opportunity to establish a strong work ethic as a young boy!
They lived in a beautiful colonial-style home across the street from the Beaver County Country Club. They owned the equivalent of four lots in this exclusive residential area. Every spring, my Dad would assemble their outdoor awning; then every fall take it down and pack it away.
I think my brother, Ira, worked for the Chadwick's. At the age of eleven, my Dad took me up to the doctor's house and trained me on how to work. Together, we mulched flower beds. My father taught me to work on my knees. If you're sitting down, Mrs. Chadwick might look out and think you're not working. He also taught me to work steady instead of working in hard spurts and then resting for awhile: "When Mrs. Chadwick looks out the window, you want her to always see you working!"
He taught me how to start and service the mowers. He showed me how to trim the trees and shrubs. I learned how to put a sharp edge around their many flower beds. And then, he turned the job over to me for the rest of the summer. The Chadwick's paid me a dollar and hour! I thought I was rich!
On Saturdays, I would ride my bike from my home on Brighton Heights, down through Oak Hill, across the 10th Street Bridge, under the 5th Street Bridge, up what we called "Story Book Hill", past the Country Club and to the Chadwick's. On the way home, after working all-day, I would change my path to pass Waite's Restaurant where I would splurge on a hot-fudge Sundae! It seemed to taste better because I bought it with my hard-earned money! Sitting in Waite's made me feel big!
Mrs. Chadwick (and her daughter, Joan) would always invite me in for lunch on Saturdays. They would have a table set for me in their kitchen. They used china settings with multiple pieces of silverware. I was nervous about eating properly. Mrs. Chadwick and Joan would stand and watch me eat. The food was always different from what I ate at home, but I enjoyed it.
I continued working for the Chadwick's until I left home for college at age 17. I am grateful to them - and especially to my Dad - for the opportunity to establish a strong work ethic as a young boy!
Monday, January 23, 2012
CHIPPY
When I was a young boy, I had a pet hamster named Chippy. Chippy was nocturnal. I eventually learned to sleep to the never-ending squeek of his running wheel.
We were alike in one respect: I always picked the almonds out of my Mom's bowl of mixed nuts; Chippy always picked the sunflower seeds out of his tray of food!
Occasionally, I would put corn curls in his cage and watch him stuff them into his side-cheek-pouches. By the time he got one in each side, he nearly doubled in size!
Chippy loved to travel with me. He went to church a few times and nearly always accompanied me at Family Camp. He rode in my shirt pocket. It was fun to watch people's responses when they would see my shirt start to move. Then, when Chippy peeked out of my pocket, their eyes would nearly bug out!
Chippy helped me get through many LONG evening services at Tri-State Camp. I would sit on one end of the old, board 'pews' and Bobby Edinfield would sit at the other. We would each have a supply of sunflower seeds. Chippy would scoot back-and-forth across the bench shelling and eating. When he was done, we'd simply sweep the seed-shells off into the straw on the dirt floor! :-)
Chippy broke out one day and was MIA for over a week. I found him again though, with my Mom's help. Her warning scream brought me running when Chippy shot out across the kitchen floor!
We were alike in one respect: I always picked the almonds out of my Mom's bowl of mixed nuts; Chippy always picked the sunflower seeds out of his tray of food!
Occasionally, I would put corn curls in his cage and watch him stuff them into his side-cheek-pouches. By the time he got one in each side, he nearly doubled in size!
Chippy loved to travel with me. He went to church a few times and nearly always accompanied me at Family Camp. He rode in my shirt pocket. It was fun to watch people's responses when they would see my shirt start to move. Then, when Chippy peeked out of my pocket, their eyes would nearly bug out!
Chippy helped me get through many LONG evening services at Tri-State Camp. I would sit on one end of the old, board 'pews' and Bobby Edinfield would sit at the other. We would each have a supply of sunflower seeds. Chippy would scoot back-and-forth across the bench shelling and eating. When he was done, we'd simply sweep the seed-shells off into the straw on the dirt floor! :-)
Chippy broke out one day and was MIA for over a week. I found him again though, with my Mom's help. Her warning scream brought me running when Chippy shot out across the kitchen floor!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
When I Was A Kid
We played army all day long down in the woods.
Careers and Monopoly were our favorite board games.
A tree could become a helicopter.
My three best friends were: Bob, Larry, and John!
Every day - after school - we played football till it was dark!
On summer evenings we played 'Kick-the-Can'.
My favorite hiding place was in the Lilac bush!
My family went camping for two weeks (every July) in Salamanca, NY.
When my Mom wanted me home, she blew a whistle three times!
Phillips' yard was like a community park!
On hot days, a drink from Phillips' pump was as good as it could get!
Those were good days!
Careers and Monopoly were our favorite board games.
A tree could become a helicopter.
My three best friends were: Bob, Larry, and John!
Every day - after school - we played football till it was dark!
On summer evenings we played 'Kick-the-Can'.
My favorite hiding place was in the Lilac bush!
My family went camping for two weeks (every July) in Salamanca, NY.
When my Mom wanted me home, she blew a whistle three times!
Phillips' yard was like a community park!
On hot days, a drink from Phillips' pump was as good as it could get!
Those were good days!
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