Saturday, December 27, 2008
For Feodor
Church of Christ, Valley View, Texas.Is this the one where your grandmother taught Sunday school?? I shot it on the way by on I-35 this afternoon thinkin' you might find it of interest.
--ER
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Good God, ER, you really are a reporter.
Yes, she taught here for 135 years and my dad couldn't wait to get away. Until he had a child of his own. Both of my paternal grandparents died before I was born.
I went to church here a couple of times when I was Sunday School age and we were visiting family. I remember it being angled near the corner of the town square.
My aunt ("Auntie" everyone called her - no children) owned a "beauty" shop also on the square and did perms, etc. I loved the warmth of the large hood dryers I could stick my head under.
I haven't seen Valley View in fifteen years.
Thank you, sir.
Yes, she taught here for 135 years and my dad couldn't wait to get away. Until he had a child of his own. Both of my paternal grandparents died before I was born.
I went to church here a couple of times when I was Sunday School age and we were visiting family. I remember it being angled near the corner of the town square.
My aunt ("Auntie" everyone called her - no children) owned a "beauty" shop also on the square and did perms, etc. I loved the warmth of the large hood dryers I could stick my head under.
I haven't seen Valley View in fifteen years.
Thank you, sir.
:-)
Re, "I remember it being angled near the corner of the town square."
Yessir. And, you're welcome. :-)
Re, "I remember it being angled near the corner of the town square."
Yessir. And, you're welcome. :-)
ER, again, thank you for an unexpected cascade of Proustian memories.
Those hard-scrabble Texas women sure were shrill when they cranked out those hymns you and I know so well. And their mumbling men with hat-pressed hair - except for the preacher - who had just had a perm from "Ain'tee."
Those hard-scrabble Texas women sure were shrill when they cranked out those hymns you and I know so well. And their mumbling men with hat-pressed hair - except for the preacher - who had just had a perm from "Ain'tee."
Yer welcome, dude. :-) ... Same women, same hat-headed farmers, ranchers, laborer and storekeeps, different small town, Southern Baptist church: I was there, with aunts and cousins teachin' SS and VBS, and a grandpa who died before I was born who'd been a deacon. :-)
And love for me to let.
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And love for me to let.
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