My dad, who is 81, wrote this narrative about his childhood in our hometown in Pennsylvania.  It's loaded with special memories for me of the relatives he writes about and a lot of the familiar places and activities.

                           Memories From My Childhood       

                                    September,  2009

For the last few years I have thought about putting some of the memories I have from my childhood in writing.   These  words will relate a few of the memories I have of growing up in Brookville as well as of my father's side of the family.   Some time in the future I will write about my mother's side.

I was born at home in Brookville, Pa. on June 23, 1928.  My two brothers, Duane and Robert, and my sister Marilyn were also born at home.  The house had a living room, dining room, and kitchen on the first floor.   There were three bedrooms on the second floor with a commode in an offset off one of the bedrooms with a curtain over the front.  We got baths on Saturday night in a porcelain tub  upstairs.  Since we had no running water upstairs and no hot water in the house,  cold water was carried upstairs in a kettle to which hot water that was heated on the kitchen stove was added.

In the basement was a furnace room and another larger room with a sink, a built-in cupboard for canned goods,  a two burner hot plate, and a wringer washing machine.  In the middle of the room was a long bench on which Marilyn and I would play “restaurant” with a toy electric stove and a set of play dishes.  On the west side of the room was a window with a shelf in front of it.  That is where we would put home made root beer to cure in the sun.  The root beer was made from Hires extract and put into ketchup bottles we would save over the years.  The bottles would be capped with a manual bottle capper.

We would also make ice cream in the basement.  Mother would make the ice cream the night before we would want to freeze it and store it in the refrigerator.  The next day we would put the can of ice cream into a four quart manual freezer.  We would buy a block of ice at the “creamery” for twenty-five cents and chip it with an ice pick.  Alternate layers of ice and salt would then be put into the tub and we would start cranking.  In about 20 minutes the ice cream would be frozen.

The furnace room had a coal fired furnace and a coal bin.  The furnace supplied heat to the house through a single floor register in the floor in the living room near the front door.  It was a treat for us when a truck load of coal would be delivered.  The truck would back in on the west side of the house.  The coal would be put into the coal bin a shovelful at a time into a chute which would be placed from the truck into the house through an open window in the basement.

There was a porch on the first floor which wrapped around the house on the front and east side.  There was a glider on the front porch and a swing on the side porch.  In the daytime in the summer we would play on the porch and in the evening we would sit on the glider and greet neighbors who would be out walking.

Some things I remember about the kitchen were the sink where we washed dishes in the corner.  Since that is where Dad shaved in the morning his razor strop hung by the sink.  An aluminum tea pot was on the stove with sassafras roots for making tea.

In the evening in winter we would listen to the radio or play such card games as Flinch, Hearts, and Rummy.  Among the radio programs we would listen to were Amos & Andy, Fibber McGee & Molly, Fred Allen, Red Skelton, Dr. IQ, Major Bowes Amateur Hour, and Sherlock Holmes.  Our radio was a floor model Airline that was purchased from Montgomery Ward.  Sometimes on Friday nights we would make hickory nut fudge.

In the backyard was a Northern Spy apple tree that provided us with plenty of apples, a place for climbing, and a limb for hanging a swing.

Dad had a garden the full width of the lot which was approximately 90 feet. In the spring he would hire someone with a team of horses or tractor to plow and harrow it.  He spent long hours in the evening planting, cultivating, and watering when necessary.  As the various vegetables  would ripen we would pick them for consumption or canning.  Included were onions, carrots, lettuce, tomatoes,  peppers, corn, beets,  beans, potatoes,  and cucumbers.

Mother would spend many hours canning the vegetables as well as fruits.  We picked blackberries, elderberries, and huckleberries  and buy peaches, raspberries, and plums.  The canning process involved filling Ball jars and closing them with rubber rings and zinc lids.  The jars would be placed in a large copper boiler filled with water on the two burner hot plate.   The time to be on the  hot plate would vary depending on the vegetable or fruit.

Just east of the house was an unpaved alley.  On the other side of the alley was a row of seven brick houses that were built in 1928 (by the man who would eventually become my father-in-law) for Sam Hunter as rental properties except for one that was owned by Emma Hunter, Sam’s sister-in-law.  She lived in the first house on the other side of the alley with her brother Clyde McCann who we called “Jum”.  She would knit mittens for each of us every winter.    To the west of our house lived Jack Plyler and his wife Bertha. There was a small unpainted building behind their house where Jack spent much of his time.

All the kids in the neighborhood played several outdoor games.  One of our favorites was “kick the can”.  A tin can was placed in the middle of the field.  Someone was picked to guard the can and others would try to kick it without the guard tagging them.  When someone was able to do that the can would be placed back in the middle of the field and someone else would be the guard.

Another game was a variation of softball called “scrub”.  There was not a set number of players.  After the infield positions were filled and three or four batters were chosen, the remaining boys and girls would be placed in the outfield.   The regular rules of softball would be followed   with the exception that if a batter hit a fly ball or pop-up and it was caught the one who caught it would change positions with the batter.  When a batter was out for any reason he or she would go to the outfield, the catcher would become a batter and everyone else would advance one position.

Another of our favorite pastimes was climbing trees.  Two of the most popular ones were the apple tree in our backyard and a large maple in back of the last “Hunter” house at the top of the hill.  We would climb as high as we could and carve our name or initials in the bark with our pocket knives.  In the woods off Evans street where Bill lived we would “shinney” up thin saplings and then ride them to the ground.

In the winter we would sled in the alley beside our house and ski on the hill behind the “Hunter” houses. 

There were two elementary schools (grades1-6) in Brookville.  The one that served our side of town was Longview to which all the boys and girls walked.  It was a two story building with eight rooms, seven of which were classrooms and the eighth served as a gym.  At the back of each room was an open cloak room where we hung our coats and hats and stored our lunches.  The desks which had ink wells were bolted to the wooden floor

We had one recess in the morning and one in the afternoon.  Weather permitting ,we would go outside where the boys would play softball, shoot baskets, or play marbles.  The girls would play jacks, jump rope, or play hopscotch.

We either carried our lunch or walked home to eat.

Across Hastings street from the school was Reed’s candy  store where they sold Guess Whats, candy cigarettes, root beer barrels, and more.  The store was in the front of a small frame house.  The Reeds lived in the back.  In the summer they would travel with a carnival.

Most of my extended family lived in or around Emerickville or Brookville.  We had a practice of exchanging visits in the evenings  or Sunday  afternoons, sometimes for dinner.  The men would talk about hunting, fishing, gardening, politics, or family matters.  The women would talk about cooking, canning,  sewing, and their kids.

Grandpa and Grandpa's was a place where several families would go to visit on Sunday afternoons, not necessarily at the same time.  In the summer the front porch and yard would be he place to gather.  Some would take a hike through the woods to the back field or visit the barn and pig pen to see the livestock which usually included one horse, two cows, and a couple of pigs.  At certain times of the year we would pick grapes from either the blue grape vines or the white grape vines which were below the smoke house on the way to the outhouse.

Granddad had a number of beehives.  From the wooden frames he would load into the hives he would harvest two kinds of honey, white clover in one season and buckwheat in another.  He also had a strawberry patch.  I, along with my cousin Bill , would help pick them.  Granddad would load the baskets of strawberries into his car and take them to Reynoldsville to sell mostly to his regular customers.

Bill and I would stay with Grandpa and Grandma one week each summer, helping in whatever way we could.  That would include getting the recently laid eggs from the chicken coop, cranking the milk separator, and churning butter.  These experiences taught us first hand about life on the farm.  Unfortunately not too many kids today have that opportunity.

In the winter we would gather in the front room  by the coal burning “pot belly” stove.  Grandma always had a dish of apples on the table and sugar cookies in a jar on top of a cabinet in the corner of the kitchen.  There was a lever handle pump in the pantry off the kitchen where we could get a cup of water from the well outback.  There were a number of tin cups hanging on the wall in the pantry where we could select one to get a drink.

Down behind the house was a “two holer” outhouse  that was supplied with a Sears & Roebuck catalog. Needless to say, it was very cold in the winter.

Dad’s oldest sister Mabel whose nickname was Polly and husband Lawrence Schuckers, “Uncle Benny” had a larger farm near Grandad’s. They had about a dozen cows , several pigs, and a team of horses.  In the back of the house was a summer house with a kitchen and screened-in porch where Aunt Polly would serve the meals in summer..

In the evening Aunt Polly would call the cows in to be fed and milked which she did by hand.  The milk would be put in a small spring house to keep cool until it could be put out  in cans to be picked up by a buyer or  make butter for themselves.

At harvest time when the wheat and later the oats would  be cut and threshed  there would be a number of men from neighboring farms come to help.  I would go to stay for a week when the wheat was harvested.  My job was to carry iced tea to the men as well as other things they would need.  As the mowing machine would go through the field I enjoyed seeing the rabbits  scatter ahead of it.

They had an ice house where they would store ice that had been cut from the creek in the winter.  It was stored in sawdust for year-round use.

These are just a few of the wonderful memories I have of growing up in and around Brookville, PA.

I just listened to an awesome (presumably controversial) song for the first time: “What Matters More” by Derek Webb. The “Live at Cornerstone” version moved me the most and reminded me why I miss Cornerstone so much. The second version is the original video. If you don’t focus on the one use of strong language to make his point about what matters most to us, it is a very powerful song about overfocusing on an issue like homosexuality when we are not concerned or doing much about other issues as Christians like we should be.

Peace in Christ,

Jeff

My goal this week is to watch this complete video of Pastor Ted Beasley's message on same sex attraction and the church.  I can tell it's a powerful video just after watching the first three minutes and from reading the "Pursue God" blog post of Karen K whom I greatly respect in her approach to communicating about homosexuality and Christianity.  The first 15 minutes are the pastor's message and the last 30 minutes or so are a panel discussion.  As Karen describes it:  "These are not testimonies of coming out of wild, drug abusing, promiscuous “lifestyles.” These are just three people pursuing God as they felt led. They admit still having same-sex attraction. The focus is not on changing sexual orientation, but on hearing from God and walking toward Him."

           http://www.gatewaychurch.com/media/2009/08/30/letsexpress-same-sex-aug-23-2009/

I've teared up twice when I've started to watch this because I expect it to be powerful and I sense that it is going to leave me dissatisfied with how the church in general and my own church specifically deals with this issue.  I plan to take some focused time to watch the complete video in the next day or two, and then I may comment again on here on what impressions it leaves me with.  Feel free to do the same after you watch his message.

Peace in Christ,

Jeff

This video is awesome. It gave me shivers and brought tears to my eyes. It's from "Ukraine's Got Talent."

From an article on it:  "What she depicts is love and war, set amidst the tu...rmoil of The Great Patriotic War, or as we call it in America, WWII. Ukraine was probably the area most devastated in the war, even more than Germany. It was a conflict that saw nearly one in four Ukrainians killed. A population of almost 42 million lost between 8 and 11 million people, depending on which estimate one references. Ukraine represented almost 20 percent of all the causalities suffered during WWII. And that was after Stalin had killed millions during the manufactured famines before the war. It to this day touches every Ukrainian. That's the context of war memory that Kseniya reaches out to."

In follow-up to my previous post and reference to Karen K's blog post entitled "Gay Students at Christian Colleges", Karen has some extensive comments after that post that deserve a read.  Click on to her post to read the comments at the end firsthand, but here are some excerpts that have struck me in particular that she wrote in a response to woman who had expressed her own philophical viewpoints on faith and sexuality:

It actually reminds me of something Tim Keller, pastor of  Redeemer Presbyterian Church wrote in an article entitled "Centrality of the Gospel." He writes, "Gospel renewal occurs when we keep from walking 'off-line' either to the right or to the left. The key for thinking out the implication of the gospel is to consider the gospel a 'third' way between two mistaken opposites. However, before we start we must realize that the gospel is not a half-way compromise between the two poles--it does not produce 'something in the middle,' but something different from both."

Where Keller might differ from you is that he sees balance as something more than the middle between two extremes. But an altogether different third way. Specifically, in regards to sexuality, he writes, "The secularist/pragmatist sees sex as merely biological and physical appetite. The moralist tends to see sex as dirty or at least a dangerous impulse that leads constantly to sin. But the gospel shows us that sexuality is to reflect the self-giving of Christ. He gave himself completely without conditions. So we are not to seek intimacy [and then try to] hold back control of our lives. If we give ourselves sexually we are to give ourselves legally, socially, personally--utterly. Sex only is to happen in a totally committed, permanent relationship of marriage."

If sex is primarily about release or attempts to meet personal needs--then balance between two extremes of over-sex or no sex makes sense. However, if sex is not primarily about release or personal needs, but giving up ourselves as Christ gave up himself--and the sexual union between two people is a mystical representation of that, then, we see a different dynamic at work. One that involves sacredness and the centrality of a life-long committed relationship.

On another note, I wonder how suffering fits into the concept of Polarized Thought Processing? You touched on it peripherally. That is, sometimes celibacy is a suffering of sorts that one undertakes for the greater good--thus Gandhi, Dalai Lama, Mother Teresa, etc. I can also think of other instances where celibacy is simply imposed by life circumstances. For example, I know of an elderly woman in Russia who was never able to marry because she had a large red birth mark on her face and no one wanted her. This was not her desire to live a single, celibate life, it was simply the reality that was imposed on her. And having casual sex would have been a completely unwelcome and offensive suggestion to her.

Christian theology has a place for the reality of suffering. That is, sometimes, we choose to persevere through undesirable circumstances for the sake  of what is right and good. Celibacy is not the normal state of things. The majority of people all have an innate drive to couple with another person--physically and emotionally, and more than that to share our lives with someone. But there may be circumstances that prevent that. Not because one is living a polarized life, but because one has subjected their sexuality to the authority of Christ. So, I choose celibacy outside of heterosexual marriage, not because I want to be celibate, but because in doing so, I am upholding the sacredness of sex. That is, self-restraint becomes the greater good when sex is not available in its proper context. For more of my thoughts on the value of chastity/celibacy, see my post here: http://pursuegod.wordpress.com/2007/09/30/the-c-word/

And an excerpt in response to a young man’s comments who state that he “identified as gay my whole life and have only dated guys through high school and college. I recently accepted Christ as my Saviour and am in some confusion on what to do,” Karen wrote:

“Who we are is based in Who created us. Our Creator knows who we are because he made us. So, we find our identity by seeking the Creator. In my own life that means all my desires, plans etc are subordinated to Christ. Scripture says, "Seek first his Kingdom." Our life is not primarily about our sexuality. That is an important aspect to be sure. But who we are is more rooted in the reality of being the people of God. Scripture calls us a "kingdom of priests." That is to say, people who are set a part for the sacred purpose of serving God. So, what does it mean for you to serve God? What would it look like for you to find your identity as Servant of God? And what would that mean on a practical level in terms of the decisions you make for your life. By that I don't mean you need to become a pastor. Rather, how do you live for the Big Picture knowing that this life is short and its not primarily about finding self-gratification, but instead diving into this God-mission of making a difference in the world.

I think it starts with knowing who God is, and that can be as simple as setting aside time each day to seek God in prayer and ask him your questions. Journal them. Seek truth in Scripture. Talk to spiritually mature mentors. And over time these things become more clear.

You said you need more information than friends can provide, but I wasn't sure what kind of information per se. If you are looking for fellowship with some guys who are also processing their sexuality and faith, there is a private Facebook group for guys that Jeff S. who posted a comment earlier is a part of. He might be a good person for you to connect with.”

That invitation is open to any other Christian guys reading this who are looking for support, encouragement and accountability in your life as you seek to reconcile same sex attraction with Christian faith.  And if you are unsure about your relationship to God, feel free to contact me at carleton1958@gmail.com to dialogue.

Peace in Christ,

Jeff