A Boost for the Youth Group!

I've mentioned in many blogs the fact that I was raised in a home where the Sabbath was rather strictly observed.

• no games
• no TV [till later - my dad decided that after evening church it was ok. I'll bet my mom didn't agree with that decision.]
• no playing outside [A few times I recall my dad taking me out to play catch in the front yard. I'm confident that my mom was NOT happy about that!]
• eventually, they did let me ride my bike
• attended Sunday School, Morning Worship, Youth group and the Evening Service.

My mom had been raised in the Scottish Presbyterian tradition. For those who are familiar with the 1981 movie, Chariots of Fire, telling the story of how Eric Liddell refused to run his 1924 Olympics race because it was scheduled on a Sunday  -  this is the tradition that my mother was from.

My dad worked at Townsend Company [mostly in Fallston] for 48 years. Through that long period, he rarely was scheduled to work on Sundays. Even though he resisted, there were a few times that he didn't have a choice and had to submit.

When I became a teenager, I must have overheard a conversation between my parents where they discussed what they would do with my dad's income from a recent Sunday of work. I learned that when he worked on a Sunday, he gave all of his income for that day to the church.

Well, becoming aware of this gave me an idea. Our church youth group was raising funds for a special project. I so wish I could remember what it was, but it was something that we were excited about.

I approached my dad and asked if he would consider giving his Sunday pay to the youth group's project. He - in typical fashion - told me that he'd think about it and talk with my mom. 

In the end, they decided to submit to my request and our project got a bit of a boost as a result!

______________________________

 

Here's some 21st century humor for you to consider. I know from later conversations that my dad never made big wages working at Townsend. I know this because after Debbie and I were married, I excitedly told him about a recent raise I had gotten while working part time at UPS in Lexington, Kentucky. When I told him that I would now be making $4.70/hour, I noticed his lack of excitement.

Being sensitive to him and desiring his approval, I later questioned him about his lack of zeal over my raise. That's when he told me that he'd never made $4.70/hour! I was humbled. This conversation probably took place around 1974.

Factoring this in, I'm guessing that the youth group back around 1967, probably received a gift of approximately $24. 

Last week Debbie and I spent $24 on a meal at Hot Heads!  Perspective is everything!

THE QUARTET

I grew up in a singing church.  There were a lot of musically talented people.  I learned to sing in the church.  For the first eleven years, I sang soprano.  Then for a couple of years I sang alto.  This transition was easy, we had several strong alto singers in the church - I simply sat in front of them and matched my voice to theirs.  Thanks Betty Paugh, Jean Miller, and a few others.

Then I learned the tenor part by listening to Chuck Payton and Morrison Baker.  I sang tenor for a few months - I've been a bass ever since!

As our skills grew, we were occasionally allowed to sing in the contatas for Christmas and Easter.  That was quite a thrill! 

Then, Martha Smeltzer, our youth leader, recognized some of our individual ability and worked with us on solos.  Jeanne Crow was most frequently used.  Linda Funkhouser sang a few times, too.  Then she asked me.  I was terrified to sing my first solo, but it went pretty well.

The next logical step was to put together a trio of girls and a mixed quartet.  The trio was always great!  The quartet seemed to be a blessing too!  It included Jeanne Crow, Ann Smith, Paul Funkhouser, and me. 

One Sunday night we were scheduled to sing.  We practiced and learned our song.  But something went dreadfully wrong as we began to sing.  It tickled my funny-bone, which quickly ignited Paul's giggle-spot too.  Essentially, Jeanne and Ann sang a duet that night while Paul and I giggled, laughed, and choked our way through the song - trying to regain our composure! 

Although we only lived three miles from the church, it was a LONG, QUIET ride home that night!  Upon arriving home, my Dad laid down the law:  I was never to sing in the quartet again.  I don't believe I ever did...