The Church
For our family, church was the main focal point for life outside the home; if our church, Baptist Temple, was open we were probably there. I started attending services at Baptist Temple nine months before I was born, as the old expression goes. Grandfather was a deacon and church treasurer and grandmother was active in the Women’s Missionary Union.
Everyone dressed up for church in those days
I can still clearly recall many of the experiences I had at Baptist Temple; I kissed a girl for the first time on the back steps of Baptist Temple; as a youngster I got called down by the pastor, Brother Jester, for talking in church at an evening service (talk about embarrassing). I received Christ as Savior at Baptist Temple and was baptized there by Brother Jester. Those and many other experiences are forever engraved in my memory.
As with all of the other buildings in my childhood, Baptist Temple was not air conditioned; I can clearly remember evening services on summer Sunday nights when the auditorium was stifling hot. We usually sat on the first floor and could look up into the balcony where small groups of people would be clustered under the oscillating fans that were placed at intervals along the wall of the balcony separated by rows of empty seats where the breeze from the fans couldn’t quite reach.
At the Sunday morning service all of the deacons would sit together in the front right corner of the auditorium (our AMEN! corner) and when Brother Jester made a good point a strong chorus of Amen’s would resound from that corner.
Family Photo After Church From left to right, my great aunt Tinnie, my aunt Belle, in the back row my uncle Rex standing behind his wife, Bernice, in the back row my grandfather Dave next my grandmother, Georgia Belle, my mother, Koreene, and me.
We all had hymnbooks with the pages of the hymns for the service posted on a board at the front. There was a lot of four part singing from the congregation as the men sang the tenor and bass and the women sang the soprano and alto parts of the hymn. The singing was done with great enthusiasm! I still have and am looking at an old Broadman Hymnal with a 1940 Copyright date and an inscription; “To Georgia Belle From Dave, May 11, 1941.” The price of copies was marked inside with a Cloth Board single copy for 75 cents. Georgia Belle was my grandmother and Dave, after whom I was named, was my grandfather. Since he was Dave I was called David and that has stuck to this day.
The Baptist Temple of my childhood no longer exists; multiple changes in the neighborhood have required changes be made to the church and they are being made as this was being written. Much of the property has been sold and a smaller church building is being prepared for the greatly reduced congregation that attends. Time is relentless and change is inevitable; my body will attest to that reality of life.
The Second World War
The Bombing of Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941
I can still remember where I was and what I was doing when the announcement of the bombing of Pearl Harbor came over the radio that Sunday afternoon; I suspect that no one could imagine the impact that event would have on us as individuals and as a nation. By God’s grace the impact on those of us living in the United States was much less than those living in some other parts of the world.
Almost every aspect of our lives was impacted to some degree, even a child had things they could do to help in the war effort; many things were rationed and some in short supply. Scrap metal was collected even to saving the foil on chewing gum wrappers; waste paper was collected and sent to processing plants to be recycled; I spent many an hour collecting waste paper for the war effort.
Two war related events stand out in my memory; the first was the appearance of a huge dirigible that hovered over my street one day, it seemed to stretch from one end of the block to the other. I had never before or since seen such a large object floating in the air above me. If you’re imagining the Goodyear Blimp, which was about 192 feet long, think bigger, the WW II K class blimps were just over 251 feet long.
The second was a city wide blackout practice for the entire City of Houston. For a few minutes every light throughout the city was to be turned out and absolutely no traffic moving. I remember when the blackout went into effect walking a half block to the busiest street in the area which ran many blocks in both directions and seeing no light or movement. That left a vivid mental picture which I can still easily recall.
News of the war was slow in coming to the people, there was information on the war in the newspapers but this was usually several days old before it got to us. There would be newsreel shorts at the movie theater but this information was also weeks old; the public simply didn’t know what was happening until well after the event was passed.
One thing that was clear was the identity of the enemy and our reason for fighting; our nation was united in working to bring about the defeat of our enemy. Many have paid a great price for us to enjoy the freedom we have!
By the end of the Second World War I was almost a teenager and no longer a little boy; I had a lot of growing up left to do but that’s another story.






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