Drills

I spoke a little while ago about dad growing up during the Cold War. And, because they lived on the east coast, they had regular air raid drills. They are fairly similar to our tornado drills out here in the midwest. The sirens would blare for a good solid minute and the kid would shuffle out in the hallways where you would cover your head and crouch down against the wall. That way if they were being attacked, they would hopefully be out of the way of shattering glass and debris. The difference between air raid drills and tornado drills are that it wasn't just for school children. Everyone in town was expected to comply with these drills. So, if he was at home, he had to go into their tiny and I mean TINY, little hallway between the two bedrooms and do the same thing. Knowing personally how small that hallway was, I can't imagine getting 6 people in there for these drills! Anyway, if it was dark outside when these drills went off, the lights in the house had to be shut off. During the day, the blinds would be closed. And, no one was allowed outside during these drills. If someone was found outside, they could be ticketed. If they didn't turn off the lights or close the blinds, they could get a ticket as well. Times were scary back then and the USSR was their enemy. And, these drills were used as a way to get the americans prepared for attack.

(The picture above is not a picture of my dad or anyone he knew. It's just a picture from the early 50s of a classroom of children during a nuclear air raid drill.)

Orchestra

When my dad was a teenager, there was an orchestra in their church. It calls it an orchestra because they had violinists. :-) It was made up of youth kids and it consisted of:

His sister Judi - violin
Kathy Kinders - violin
Dad - trumpet
Bob Bowers - trumpet
Stanley Lentz - clarinet
David Manduka - clarinet
Jane Lentz - flute
Jean Manduka - piano

He said they would play and it would never fail that he and Bob Bowers would start laughing and next thing he'd know the notes would come out a bit stilted, because of their giggles. He said anytime he sat next to Bob, whether it was in the orchestra or just on a pew for service, they would start laughing. He said he was surprisingly immature in those days. Shocking, I know.

Christmas Programs

Every year at Christmas, the kids would put on a Christmas program. In the sanctuary, in the pulpit area, there were thick curtains. And, behind those curtains was a set of doors. For the program, the doors were opened and the kids would do their performance to the joy and adoration of their parents and the other members of the congregation. They would practice for weeks - every Saturday and Sunday afternoon for 4-5 weeks. But they never seemed to get it until the day of the actual performance, when it would miraculously go off without a hitch. They would say their verse, "...which is Christ the LORD." VERY LOUDLY! Well, at least dad said it really loudly. I don't know that at that age, he really understood the whole "indoor voice" thing. Neither does my son though, so it might be genetic. ;-) He said he would see his mom in the audience, mouthing the words along with him. The Christmas program was something they all looked forward to every year.

Noisy

When dad was a kid, there were old pews in the sanctuary. Not like the ones I knew of when I would go there. These were old wooden ones that had splinters and would occasionally grab the back of their pants. Dad didn't like that. But, in the very back of the sanctuary, behind the back pew, were 2 chairs. Normally a pair of brothers - Addison and Kelly Brookfield - would sit there. They walked a very long distance to church each morning and sometimes Sunday night as well. They walked from Garden Terrace, which was pretty far away. Well, those nights they didn't show up, dad and his brother Carl would take those seats. Debbie and Judi would be sitting with their friends, while they sat in those chairs in the back. Since they weren't sitting with their mom, they would get a little noisy. Grandpa would be in the middle of his sermon and say, "Rose, do something." so those boys would quiet down. Let's just say it didn't work very often...or for very long. ;-)

Dirigibles Addendum

Dad called me the other day to let me know he was reading his blog and told me I was, and I quote, "A filthy liar". Apparently in my post about dirigibles I said that they became commonplace and that his fear of them didn't persist. I guess I took that liberty of ASSUMING that he got over that fear, but he did not. He still hates them and is still scared of them. He said he's not scared of Goodyear blimps and that he could quote "beat the crap out of those things", but the big, giant flying dirigibles are still scary. So, I guess it's better that everyone knows he's a 62 yr old wuss, so I'm not a "filthy liar". ;-) You're welcome.

Sweetness

Like I said in the previous post, dad had his less than shining moments in his childhood, but he also had his sweet moments. Now, when dad was a kid there were lots of "mom and pop" stores in the downtown area. Grocery stores to be precise. He listed off 6-7 just off the top of his head. "One on every corner," he said. There was also a stable that used to house horses that burnt down one night, killing 4-5 horses as well as the stable master. When that burned down, and A&P opened in its place. The A&P was a big grocery store and those little mom and pop shops couldn't compete with its prices, so slowly all those little shops closed down. Well, dad used to go up to the A&P and put ladies' shopping carts away for them. He would go up to a lady in the parking lot and say, "Can I put that cart away for you?" and they'd thank him and give him a nickel or a dime or something like that. Dad would do that quite often and when he got a collection of those coins, he'd go uptown to buy little figurines at Mrs. Sturdivent, at the top of 3rd Ave. She had a small little store on the back porch area of her house. These little figurines cost .49 a piece, so he would have to put a lot of carts away in order to get one of these and he'd usually buy a little rabbit. Then he'd take these little rabbits and give them to women in the church that he liked. Women like Mrs. Dunn, Mrs. Bowers, Aunt Blanche, and his mom too, of course. One time he even rode his bike up to the "Good News Club" where he had a nice teacher and gave her one as well. So, even though he was an ornery stinker a lot of the time, he also had a sweet spot and he used that sweetness to charm those ladies, so it would help soften them up for the next time he did something that got him in trouble. :-)

What did he say?!

Every year at Christmas, the Sunday School teachers would give their kids gifts. One year dad's teacher Mrs Kay Dunn gave him a small plastic plane and a cowboy-style handkerchief. Dad, being the snot that he was, threw the plane down and said "I don't want!" and stomped away. Grandma was MORTIFIED (as any mother of a horribly ungrateful child would be)! He, of course, got in big trouble when he got home, but a few days later, he was playing at Phil Musimaci's house and played with that little plane all afternoon. Really having a good time with it. It was pretty cool after all! So, he very humbly went back to church on Sunday, found Mrs. Dunn and told her that he played with that plane at Phil's house and really liked it. And, bless Mrs. Dunn, she looked at him with a smile and said "Thank you, Mark." and let it end at that.

Services

One thing I learned in talking with my dad about Mt Calvary was how many times they actually were IN church! Now, I feel like I'm at my church a lot and growing up felt I was at every function and every service at that church, but I don't think even that compared to how many times my dad found himself in church. The had so many opportunities to worship back then, which is something rarely found today. There was always Sunday School and normal Sunday morning service as well as Sunday evening service. There was also prayer meetings on Wednesdays and youth groups. But, they also had many special services throughout the year. For New Year's Eve they had a service where they would pray in the new year. Isn't that wonderful?! I love that idea! The kids would be in the basement, eating donuts and hot cocoa. Maybe playing a little ping-pong or something, while the adults met upstairs. Then when midnight would roll around they would either be on their knees praying or having communion. Dad said it wasn't until college that he actually was up and out in the streets to experience New Year's Eve the way most of us normally do. They would have a Thanksgiving service from 10-11 and another one in the evening as a time of praise and thankfulness. He did say though, by the time everyone had their turkey, they were all pretty sleepy for that evening service. ;-) Every Good Friday from 12-3 my grandpa, Father Dawson, and Rev. Lott (both from other churches) would get together and perform a service together. Always talking about the 7 words on the cross. This is something they did each and every year for many years. Then grandpa would give an evening service that night as well. I think hearing all that makes me realize even more what a testament to the love of Christ my grandpa, and grandma too for that matter, had. And, the desire he had to offer his congregation the opportunity to worship together and often. And, you know my grandma was right by his side the entire time. Our lives are often so busy we don't take the time to give praise and thankfulness to God like we ought to. We don't take time off to pray in the new year or listen to the story of the cross on our day off. I'm sure there were many times that dad got tired of going to church all the time. I know I did as a kid. But, to still have that foundation and knowledge and love given to you, before he even really knew to appreciate it is something in itself to be thankful for.

Bribery

In order for Miss Dodge to get my dad to behave better and do his work in Children's Church, she pulled him aside one day and told him she would give him a nickel if he learned the 100th Psalm. Well, heck!, a nickel was a lot back then, so he set to work to memorize that Psalm. He worked really hard and learned it and recited it to Miss Dodge and got his nickel. She realized this was the way to encourage my dad, so she continued to give him verses to memorize, all with the promise of a nickel if he did. He learned several verses this way. I didn't ask him if Miss Dodge lived long enough to see him become a pastor, but I wonder if those verses he memorized to get those nickels were verses he remembered and used when he was in college and later seminary and if she realized that she planted that seed all those years ago just in her attempt to get a little, ornery boy to do his lessons at church.

Children's Church

The picture above is the church my grandpa pastored for over 50 years. This little church called Mount Calvary had a ground floor and a basement. That was it. It had a sanctuary on the ground floor with a larger room in the back, a bathroom, and another small room beside the bathroom. When I was a kid that room was full of my grandpa's books, but I believe dad told me it was used at that time as a Sunday School classroom. Then, you would walk downstairs at the back of the church to get to the basement. This was a large room with heavy curtain dividers to section it off. The area you walked into immediately at the bottom of the stairs, they sectioned off for children's church. A very old Miss Josephine Dodge and her sister Miss Camilla Dodge ran the children's church during dad's time in there. They were spinsters who lived on Blackhorse Pike by the Wentzels. Dad said their favorite song was "I Met Jesus at the Crossroads" and they sang it every week - which dad used as the opportunity to sing it to me as well ... in its entirety. Even after I begged him to stop. Now the teachers would scotch tape something under one chair in the room and if you were good, they would call on your name to look under your chair to see if they had something under there. If they did, they got to sit in the gold chair the next week and get a lollipop. Dad sometimes had that tag under his chair, but he never won the prize. Why, you ask? Because he was never good, therefore never got his name called. He said he could tell me stories of some of the things he and his brother Carl would do to aggravate his teachers, so I think I'll have to post about those some time soon. :-)

*Thanks to Aunt Judi for the picture I was able to copy from her blog

http://www.runnemederemembered.blogspot.com/