Our family walked the 1½ blocks to church every time the doors opened-the first pastor I remember was Brother W.D. Boswell and he was succeeded by Kirby McGuire. I made my profession of faith on a Sunday night in, I think, 1943. I’ll get this date correct later. Kirby McGuire baptized me on a Sunday night in the warm artesian waters provided by north waco water supply company, (in that section of Waco users had the choice of using city water or North Waco Water Supply). mother and daddy both taught Sunday school and there were always plenty of deacons outside the church smoking cigarettes between sunday school & church each Sunday–daddy among them.
One of the funniest things I ever saw happened in the baptistry of North Waco Baptist Church* (2001 McKenzie Avenue). It was customary to have baptisms on Sunday night and have the choir remain in the choir loft immediately below the baptistry, NWBC had a mission church further out north 19th street in a low-income area & when they had a baptism to perform the would use NWBC baptistry and Kirby McGuire would perform it. One Sunday night I was still in church watching the baptism and daddy had gone outside to smoke and, for some reason, mother went outside as well, the first candidate was a very large woman who came into the baptistry in as ugly a homemade dress as I had ever seen and a bright red bandana around her hair curlers, the preacher said the words and laid this massive figure backwards at which time we all became aware that she was deathly afraid of water, so she struggled and slapped the water straight up with all her might, delivering a pre-shower to everyone within 20 feet, the preacher calmed her and leaned her back again, he discovered that she still wasn’t quite ready when she struck the water with a mightier blow doing more water damage than the first time, by this time the congregation was giggling and I was almost falling out laughing, I was close to the back of the church–so I ran out the back door & told daddy & mother that they just had to see this!
When we got back into church the baptism was still going on and not very well, the choir loft was darkened for the service, but you could see various member creeping quietly down while wiping their faces, arms, etc. with whatever they could find to wipe, in once last final, near fatal attempt, the preacher started her down again and this time she scooped the water (as kids douse each others faces in the pool) and the result was masses of water drenching whatever had not been drenched before, the pastor, counting the job well done closed with a prayer and we all went home laughing
It was in this church that I saw the only “excommunication” I ever saw-actually i believe they called it “withdrawing fellowship”. There was a family named “Deutsch” who had been members for quite a while, they had a daughter named Agatha who was a talented pianist though I’m not sure whether this is part of this story, anyway, all kinds of strife surrounded Mrs. Deutsch, including that she gossiped, I know mother didn’t like her for reasons she never saw fit to disclose I do remember a little about the acrimonious business meeting of the church when fellowship was removed, mother & daddy had little or nothing to do directly with the battle, but it soured their feel for the church, I think.
Shirley and my cousin, Gwen, went through various steps in the girl’s auxiliary (g a’s) & every time there was a ceremony they dressed up in these little costumes and I had to attend, I hated it! Shirley also played the cello during those days and her recitals were more than I could bear so, as I recall mother & daddy mercifully left me at home–sparing me the agony & them the risk of embarrassment that would have resulted from my behavior.
- Waco History Project mentions North Waco Baptist Church in its entry about Benny Green, “The Jewish Santa of North Waco“
At some point when I was 4 or 5 we moved to 2117 Mckenzie. Our next door neighbors were the Stinsons (who for some reason unknown to me) we did not like and the millers who we liked with very much. The Millers had two daughters-Meta & Kay-one older and one younger than me they were my playmates until I went to north waco elementary school which was in September 1942-when I was almost 6 1/2. During the summer Meta would get out her dad’s rods and reals and we would cast from the front porch as far as we could which was about 25 feet. there was a rail on the porch and we had to cast over the rail. Once–when we were competing for distance–Meta (probably as competitive a women’s libber as I have ever known) reached back and with all the strength she could muster swung her rod and he me up side the head knocking me off the porch and onto my head on the sidewalk–I can still see those stars & my head has never been the same since. Gary was born in Hillcrest hospital on February 13, 1941 while we lived at 2117.
Mrs. Dudley, a sweet white haired lady was my first grade teacher and all the other kids and i adored her. I still have a group picture of my first grade class which included Ron Linam, James Balch, Betty Smith (my first girl friend), Janie Williams (my second girl friend) and about 18 other-there were 20-22 of us. There was no pre-school and no free kindergarten so very few kids started school until the first grade. We still had no car–so Shirley and I walked the block to school and daddy road to work with a co-worker at Stratton-Stricker furniture. at this point daddy did not sell, but delivered, hung draperies, moved furniture within the store, laid a lot of linoleum, and laid carpet. I remember going with him a time or two and realized, even at that young age, that this was hard work.
The japanese bombed pearl harbor on December 7, 1941, and, since I was 5 years old I should remember, but I don’t. However, I do remember when the newspaper issued “extras” to highlight significant events. Many people didn’t have radios-very, very few had telephones (and party lines at that) so the newspaper and word of mouth were the principal sources of news. I think I should cut this off-this paragraph has gotten much too long!
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at some point in time (where is shirley when i need her?) we moved to a house located two houses from the corner of 25th street and mckenzie on the north side of the street. i was probably 3 or 4 at the time. it seems that we only lived there briefly–probably only a few months. but i remember the black 2-door coupe auto that stayed in the next door driveway close by our porch; it had the look of a late 1930s model and, i thought, how wonderful it was because we had no car.
also remember loud country music coming from the house next door and, i swear i remember this–whether any agrees or not, that i believe our neighbor was hank williams!
i probably shouldn’t tell this, but to be more forthright than a politician, i remember my last “accident” i had in the underwear department. one summer day i was sitting on the curb watching firemen refill the water tank on their truck–i don’t remember whether there had been a fire close by or not–but i watched with interest too long and “loaded ’em up”. i was so embarrassed that i went in and changed, but hid the mess in the floor of my closet! needless to say when mother found it a few days hence she was not happy at all with me!
read on if you are still interested–i don’t think it will get any worse than this.
not so very long after i was born- we moved to 2604 summer, but i was too young to be much help with the move–probably 1 year old–for some reason my memory fails me on that. we lived next door to the harrisons*. he was the fire chief and a tough looking guy while she was an attractive dark haired lady with flashing black eyes and a kindly personality to go with an attractive smile.
they had two kids-“lee p”, as we called him, and bonnie. lee was my age and the first playmate i remember. he was bigger than i was and always went around with the back flap on his drawers open and his rear end shining. i can remember being embarrassed for him even at that young age.
lee p was bigger than i was and often sent me home crying from childish skirmishes. finally mother talked to mrs h and she told m that i was going to have to fight back–which i had always been taught not to do. so, i’m told i “cleaned his plow” one day and that wound up the skirmishes.
i remember the harrisons* had a pony and shirley rode it occasionally. one day it ran away with her and scraped her off under a low hanging gate. so much for “annie oakley”!
lee & i periodically partook in the childhood nutrition supplement–dirt. the fact that it tasted bad didn’t dawn on us until our parents pointed it out.
Annie Oakley photo courtesy of Roland Bonaparte (Cowan’s Auctions) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
i was born march 26, 1936, at 2617 summer avenue in waco, texas, at home as was the custom in those days. daddy was almost 26 at the time and mother was 24. shirley, my much older sister and constant antagonist during childhood, was 3 1/2 years old at the time and, i believe had been born at home in the same house. while mother was expectant with shirley she fell down some back steps (5 or 6 of them) and broke her arm. we will never know whether this was a contributing factor to shirley’s attitudes and personality today, will we?
shirley must have “telepathied” me because she just called and corrected me that she was born at 2310 reuter where mother & daddy lived with the tatums-tom and, gladys, and their children-ardis and don. shirley also remembered that the bathroom at 2617 was on an enclosed back porch and had a water tank hung high on the wall and a pull chain. i also, take her word for it that she sat outside on the front porch while mother delivered me in a big bed in the front bedroom. these were the “good old days?”
By Gregorydavid at the English language Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12355042
Thanks for the reminder of the Battle of Adwa and its profound significance.
Switzerland–a land of visual treats
Farewell to Switzerland for Now
A fabulous expat ride in Switzerland is coming to an end for me and my family. Like many expats know, moving to a foreign country is loaded with waves of opposing emotions. However, after assessing our ride thoroughly it has been completely worth the blood, sweat, and tears of moving to Switzerland. Three things stand out for me: enjoying Switzerland’s unparalleled natural beauty, opportunity for personal growth (even if somewhat painful), and friendships forged in mutual ups/downs of adjusting expatriate life.
I think my fellow adventurers would agree that our number one joy of living in Switzerland is the unbounded beauty of this small country. I actually have a Pinterest board named Beautiful Switzerland. Almost everywhere you look, there is a feast for your eyes. Only while in Switzerland, I become a professional photographer! It is an amazing transformation. You don’t…
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CMAs take pride in knowing they add value to their company, whether they’re in Dallas, Dubai, or Shanghai and regardless of whether they work for a local company or a global…
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