I remember the night my youngest sister, Sherry was born. We lived out west and north of Rector somewhere in the hills of Crowleys Ridge. I remember how the road snaked off along the ridge of the hill which led up to the house. Don't remember too much about the house, but it did have a deep round cistern which was great for spittin in!
It had a cover that I'd raise to see the water below. The only running water we had in the house was poured out of a bucket raised hand over hand. The rain water was caught from the roof, and when it was cool enough for a fire, the water would be black because we burned coal for fuel.
There was a pond down the hill a ways. I'd walk south away from the house 'a fur piece and skim rocks, catch tadpoles, throw rocks at snakes, dodge Bumblebees and snakedoctors . . ., it was a wondrous time in my life. I wasn't quite old enough to attend school, but I was quite independent.
That may be why the song George Younce sang by the name of Suppertime is one of my all time favorites. I've heard, and can still hear, my Mom calling to me, "George Earl, George Earl . . . George Earl Cavaness Jr.! Come in, it's time to eat!"
"Aw Mom, can't I play just a little while?" would be my plaintive plea. Cuz I knew, after supper I would be getting washed and cleaned up for bed! Suppertime meant the end of the day, and the end of the activities unless it could be done on the living room floor.
I remember Dad taking apart an old piano, and built a little church house in the form of the big church where we attended. It was white with a blue roof, and the windows had been painted blue as well on the church to prevent peakers. I'd often wondered about that, and asked Mom after I was nearly grown why they didn't want people looking in the windows. It's a church isn't it?
Mom only said one thing: "Because we were holy rollers . . ." Well, that was another thing that bothered me, 'cuz I'd never seen anyone do that! When I did finally see a man do that, he just turned over a little bit, and they called us holy rollers for that? Heck, that wasn't nothin'!
In later years I did see a man do that, but, it still wasn't enough to label an entire group of people over. Then I saw something which just might! I saw a young man tumble . . . yep, you read right! Tumble. Head over heels, time after time, all the way around church! This was inside of course . . .
Not only that, but he was here in California, Bakersfield to be exact! And he's still alive today! I have him in my email contact list. And he's a good man, a man that, should you meet him anywhere, you'd think he'd never do anything like that, but, when it comes to worship God, he does! Here I am off my subject again. I might just write a little about that some time, but for now, back to my subject.
I don't ever remember seeing my Mom pregnant. I did see her in a picture, the only one I've ever seen, and she was pregnant with me. No, I don't remember her being pregnant with me, but I have an amazing memory (except when I try to commit something to memory.
The night Sherry was born, it was storming. And those storms back in them southern states are much more violent, rain is harder and bigger, the winds howl, and lightening and thunder . . . they are wondrous! But when Mom went into labor, Dad had to go out in that storm and bring the doctor.
I remember waking up, hearing a baby cry, and padding in to see what all the fuss was about, seeing my little baby sister, and, oh well . . . didn't mean too much to me at the time! I do remember a lot of soiled clothes around and inquired of them, but don't remember the answer.
I remember Dad always had a 22 with him, and we'd stop on the way to and from church to take a rabbit when the opportunity came. I've eaten a lot of "four legged chicken!"
I also remember when we lived in the house where my oldest sister, Betty Sue, was born. I certainly don't remember the night, but I do remember seeing the old steam locomotives rumble by the house. I also remember feeling the loss of an era when the big diesels started coming through, and the steam engines became fewer and fewer until they were no more.
I remember quite a bit about that old house in which Sherry was born, and, it is quite remarkable. My little sis is only six years younger than me and I love her as only a sibling could. I just pray for the day when God will reconcile us all as a family again.