PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 55 - Bible Jeopardy At The Basement Summer Bible School

PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 55

Pawpaw loves Bryson, Connor and Archer!

Bible Jeopardy At The Basement Summer Bible School

 

   I have known my friend Randy since we were two years old. Our parents lived in homed beside each other in East Canton, Ohio. Randy’s parents would lift him over our chainlink fence where he and I could play together protected in our yard. Randy’s family moved away and later we moved as well. It was quite a happy surprise in Kindergarten in a completely different town when Randy and I found ourselves in the same class. Our parents has unknowingly relocated to the same town.

   Randy’s parents attended the large Methodist Church in town. Even though my family did not attend, Randy’s family often included me in church activities. Three gray haired ladies who I thought were aged one hundred or more but were probably fifty held a Vacation Bible School in the basement of one of their homes. Since Randy would be attending, Randy’s mother invited me to go with Randy.

   We would enter the old lady house and descend down the stairs to the spotless basement where chairs were set up in rows for us kids to occupy. After an opening prayer, things got immediately stressful. The week before, the ladies gave us a Bible verse to memorize. We were supposed to spend the week considering and meditating upon it.  I usually forgot it the minute I left the basement. It was the absolute worst to be the first one called to the front of the class to recite last week’s memory verse. Randy and I quickly figured it out. After the first person failed at the memory verse, we’d listen for the old lady to kindly say, “No, dear. Its…” and say the verse out loud. Then we’d try to quickly memorize the Bible verse before being called up front ourselves. Being the last to be called meant being the one with the most time to hear the verse over and over again and memorize it.

   The kids who repeated the Bible verse correctly were given a lollipop. It was one of the little kid lollipops wrapped in cellophane with a loop for  a handle instead of a stick . It didn’t matter. A lollipop is a lollipop. I still remember the terror of basement Vacation Bible School. My heart pounded in my chest because I knew I didn’t know the verse that the gray haired ladies were going to ask me. I sat praying that they would not call my name first. Most of the time, they didn’t. I’ll never know for sure if it was answered prayer or luck of the draw.

PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 54 - Train Massages

PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 54 - Train Massages

Pawpaw loves Bryson, Connor and Archer!

Train Massages

 

   When I was in Kindergarten, my parents rented a tiny house on an alley named Rear West Main Street. West Main Street was the nearest street. Instead of giving our alley with four houses and a power station on it a name of its own, someone decided to just add the word rear to West Main Street.

   Our tiny house was probably less than 800 square feet total. In that tiny footprint, the house included four tiny bedrooms, one bathroom, a tiny living room and a very cramped kitchen with barely enough room for a table and chairs. Fortunately, the house included a screened room between the kitchen and garage. It was twice as big as our living room. On the floor of the screened room was a large piece of wood that could be lifted to reveal a stairway that led to the underground basement which held the furnace that provided heat during the freezing Ohio Winters.

   Less than one hundred yards behind our house were two sets of railroad tracks. When trains sped by, our house would shake. The house even shook when the trains blew their powerful horns. I loved watching the trains speed by. I loved listening to the sound of the wheels squealing as their metal connected with the metal train tracks. I loved the chunk-chunk, chunk-chunk sound that the trains made even though I never knew how.

   Best of all, I loved the feeling of our trembling, shaking home late at night right after I heard the blaring train horn announce itself from the dark. My tiny bed in my tiny bedroom in our tiny house felt like my own personal massage bed when the trains sped past.

PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 53 - Ice Skating On Constitution Pond

PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS

Pawpaw loves, Bryson, Connor and Archer!

Ice Skating On Constitution Pond 

   Winters in northern Ohio can be brutal. The temperature where water freezes is thirty-two degrees.  In an Ohio Winter, you can go for weeks without the temperature rising to thirty-two. On the bright side, when it is cold enough for water to freeze, we could ice skate.

   Down in our underground basement, we had a box of ice skates of various sizes. My older brother Skip’s ice skates were black. My sister Sherry’s ice skates were a pretty, girly white. All the girls had whole ice skates. My ice skates were black like my brother’s skates.

   Once you get the hang of balancing on two thin silver blades, the most difficult part of ice skating is putting the darn things on! You can’t put them on at home and walk anywhere on the blades so you must wear snow boots to the ice, take off your boots and put on your skates without getting your feet wet with snow. Ice skates require a lot of support so there are laces that rise high above your ankle. After swapping out your boots while trying not to get any snow on your socks, you still have to slip into the ice skates and tighten row after row of laces and finally tying them. If the laces are very long ones, we’d wrap them around the top of the skates several times up by our calf.

   We were lucky that  we lived in West Main Street about two blocks from Dairy Queen because behind the ice cream vendor was Constitution Park which had swings, a pavillion and most importantly a pond. In Summers, we fished in the pond. In Winters, we ice skated as soon as it froze over. It seemed like everyone ice skated back then. The pond was usually filled with skaters of all ages from little children skating as they held the hand of a parent, to elementary students, to teens to parents and grandparents.

   A fifty-five gallon barrel was filled with firewood. Once the firewood was on fire, it provided everyone with a place to warm up when we got too cold. It was also a great place to talk while we stood in a circle around the barrel holding our hands  close to the flames for warmth. Some times, we even brought a thermos filled with hot cocoafor a warming drink. I always thought that skating with all the community, family and friends was especially magical at twilight for some reason.

   On days when the adults were at work and we didn’t have school to attend, us kids would practice skating as fast as we could. Or we’d practice jumping and landing. My older brother and sister could easily switch from skating forward to skating backwards. My brother and the big boys played ice hockey there too.

   During the long, cold, gray northern Ohio Winters, ice skating was another way to have fun. I miss it. I miss the camaraderie of neighbors of all ages enjoying something fun together. I miss the smiles. I miss the conversations around the fire barrel. I miss it all.

PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 52 - How To Manipulate Your Teacher And Become A Star

PAWPAW'S DIARY:  MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS

Pawpaw loves Bryson, Connor and Archer!

The Little Drummer Boy or How To Manipulate Your Teacher And Become A Star

 

   Now that I am an adult who has spent a good portion of my teen and adult life onstage as a musician, singer/songwriter and on a stage of sorts as a minister, perhaps this story reveals that I was destined to be there.

   At the time that I went to elementary school, there was a thing called Show And Tell. Students were invited to bring a special toy or something to school and tell the teacher and other students about it. I was in first grade. One day, I overheard my teacher and another teacher talking between themselves about the upcoming Christmas Holiday Pageant. They were discussing the many things they would need to accomplish it. As soon as they mentioned that they would need a Little Drummer Boy playing a drum while the rest of the class sang the drummer boy song, I formulated a plan. I would be so sneaky that the teachers would never know that they had been manipulated by an adorable first grader.

   Mom and my grandmother took me shopping with them in downtown Canton, Ohio. At the time, downtown Canton was a magical place. As we walked down the sidewalk, we visited retail stores like McCrory’s Five And Dime. We passed by several very fancy movie theaters. We passed by the park between the North and South lanes of the street which was seating in the Summer and a skating rink in the Winter. We always visited the huge public library where I could spend hours browsing the children’s section. 

   I waited for just the right moment. When I thought my Mom and Grandma were ripe for manipulation, I mentioned that I needed a toy drum for school so that I could be in the annual Christmas Pageant. In no time at all, we were entering McCrory’s looking for a toy drum. We found one and Mom and Grandma bought it for me. It was beautiful. It had a long strap attached to each side. When I looped the strap behind my neck, my drum hung right at my waistline. And the drum came with real drum sticks!

   Now all I had to do was wait for Show And Tell. As soon as one was scheduled by my teacher, I brought my new toy drum to school. When the teacher called my name for my turn to Show And Tell, I conjured up my most innocent angel face, put the drum strap around my neck, held a drum stick in each hand and walked to the blackboard at the front of my class.

   I turned to face my teacher and my fellow students and explained most angelically and innocently how my Mom and Grandma had miraculously purchased me the toy drum that I had always dreamed of. My creativity was flowing marvelously.  After my brilliant oration that was probably worthy of an Academy Award or at least a Tony, I began to tap my drum with my drumsticks. Bum. Bum. Bum, bum, bum.  Bum. Bum. Bum, bum, bum.

   My classmates clapped but we always clapped for whomever was Show And Telling. The magical moment happened when my teacher said, “Steven, this is perfect! We just happen to need a Little Drummer Boy for the Annual Christmas Pageant!” And voila! I was the Little Drummer Boy.

   When the event actually happened, I bravely walked out in front of my classmates. I faced the brown, wooden bleachers filled with the expectant faces of parents, grandparents and assorted siblings. And I played “Bum. Bum. Bum, bum, bum.  Bum. Bum. Bum, bum, bum,” on my toy drum as my class sang the Little Drummer Boy song – just as I had planned!

PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 51 - Gargoyles!

PAWPAW'S DIARY:  MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS

Pawpaw loves Bryson, Connor and Archer!

In 2006, I was a very healthy 43 year old. I exercised every day. I had built a lot of muscle in my body. I lifted weights and played competitive tennis. I even had two certifications as a professional tennis instructor. Then, I developed a strange cough that would not go away. My office at the church where I worked found black mold in my office. I became deathly sick and spent 14 days in the hospital at the University of Florida. Six days were in intensive care.

I was given morphine for the pain. One night I had a strange dream about an ancient gargoyle who told stories about his race. The next day, I wrote notes about my dream and began adding more thoughts. I asked your Mom (my daughter) for her thoughts. She loved the idea. Eventually, I published a book titled THE GARGOYLE SCROLLS. It didn't feel right to me though. A few years later, after a lot of thinking and planning, I rewrote the book in a better direction. I titled it THE GARGOYLE JEWEL. I placed it for sale on Amazon.com. I hope you can find it and read it. It contains a lot of my personality and beliefs about the importance of history and memories.

I wrote it under then pen name SE McWilliams in honor of my mother's maiden name.

Here's a bit of it. I love you all, Pawpaw

THE GARGOYLE JEWEL

By S.E. McWilliams

Without words, without writing and without books there would be no history, there could be no concept of humanity.

Hermann Hesse

CHAPTER ONE

The gargoyle race had once ruled the skies, living peacefully amongst themselves as the human race grew and grew and spread like a plague devouring more and more of the planet. It was only a matter of time until the humans, conquerors and polluters of nature, would eventually pillage their way to Molotopon, the last sanctuary of the gargoyles.

The gargoyles had lived in peace and harmony for thousands of years, retreating and retreating again and again from the ever-growing human strain. Humans were not interested in peace. They were driven by domination. They were driven by annihilation.  A single human could be reasoned with. Unfortunately, groups of humans easily became mindless mobs following whatever voice played loudest to their fears and prejudices.

The gargoyles retreated as far as they possibly could retreat. It made no difference. A coalition of human armies fed by religious extremists amassed and surrounded their sacred home in Molotopon. Gargoyle ambassadors FreeGyel and PenTakion were chosen to negotiate peace with the humans. Despite FreeGyel’s passionate pleas, the violent humans refused any offer to coexist with gargoyles. 

When the humans tired of listening to reason, FreeGyel and PenTakion were netted, bound, ridiculed, tortured and then beheaded. Their severed heads were placed on poles by one of the human’s religious military leaders and displayed at the front of the human encampment. He laughed as he placed them there. The wings that had bourne FreeGyel and PenTakion through the clouds since they were hatchlings were hacked off and burned as the human mob cheered and beat their swords against their shields.

The last of the peaceful gargoyles, less than one thousand, watched from Molotopon. Their eagle-keen eyes witnessed each and every horror that FreeGyel and PenTakion endured.  They knew that it was only a matter of time until the human mobs attacked their very gargoyle home. 

The gargoyles held a council in the Great Hall of Discernment to decide whether to continue the way of peace or engage in bloody battle with the human attackers. After much debate, it was decided that they would follow the path of peace even if it meant the end of their race.

When the human armies began their siege on Molotopon, a sacred trust was bestowed on a young gargoyle named GrameeBull, barely more than a hatchling himself. He would carry with him the sacred Jewel of Simipar that stored the memories of his race. 

So that GrameeBull would have time to escape the human assault unnoticed, others chose to sacrifice themselves. It would give him that one vital chance. Each and every mighty gargoyle, wherever they stood, knelt down on their knees, gathered in their wings, bowed their heads and entered a peaceful meditative state where nothing happening outside their spirit mind would distract them.

Weaving his way through the mountain caves to a hidden ledge camouflaged by the heavy mist rising from the waterfall below, GrameeBull took one last look back at Molotopon knowing in his heart that he would never see his kind again. Turning back to the ledge with eyes moist from more than just the rising waterfall mist, GrameeBull sprang from powerful legs, spread his mighty wings and soared to the clouds carrying the history of his people in the sacred Jewel of Simipar. 

The humans, busy with their slaughter of the meditating gargoyles, never noticed GrameeBull. Their victory over the gargoyles at Molotopon would be chronicled and catalogued in the great libraries at Alexandria, Ashurbanipal and Pergamum. When the libraries vanished or were destroyed, the Molotopon massacre passed from history to legend to folk tale and the peaceful race of gargoyles eventually became nothing more than monsters in fairy tales and statues on cathedrals. Only GrameeBull, the last of the gargoyle race was left to remember the truth. He vowed that the memories of his people would not be forgotten as long as he continued to breathe. This was his sacred trust.

https://www.amazon.com/Gargoyle-Jewel-S-McWilliams-ebook/dp/B086SH1QVR

PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 50- Love of reading

PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS

Pawpaw loves Connor, Bryson and Archer! 

Do you guys like to read? I used to love to read to you Connor and Bryson. I always looked for books to buy for you as gifts and bring them when I visited. In addition to Christmas toys, I liked to buy you books too for Christmas. Toys and books are a perfect combination.

I am a voracious reader. I have been since childhood. Books, whether fiction of nonfiction, have allowed me to spend my life traveling around the world, across the galaxy, through time both past, present and imagined future, and deeply into the minds of storytellers of all ages, races, genders and backgrounds. Storytellers are humanity’s memory and sharers of creativity.

I think about you every day. If there is ever a gap in my writing messages to you, it's is either because I have had another batch of surgeries and medical crises. I am glad that you guys are all so healthy and strong. I was until age 43. I guess other times I don't write is because I sometimes get very sad when I think about you. I miss you.

Love you,

Pawpaw

PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 49 - Snuggles

PAWPAW'S DIARY: MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 

Pawpaw loves Connor, Bryson and Archer.

I miss you so much. I hope that you will find these messages someday. I did not leave you. I was not allowed to visit anymore. It broke my heart. It broke Tom's heart too. 

We have always been a snuggling family. I love holding you in my arms, guys. 

This is little Connor napping in Pawpaw's arms.

This is silly Connor in Pawpaw's lap.

This is really little baby Connor in a baby carrier. Your Mom and I went grocery shopping and everyone loved seeing you.

This is baby Connor on Pawpaw's lap again. What a day! It was at your house. It was very hot outside but I had promised your parents to remove the water fountain and rocks out front. Tom and I smashed it with a sledgehammer. Connor, Momma let you go nude to cool off.

This is my smiling, big boy, buddy-pal Bryson in the kitchen at your house. We had a great time together when Connor went to school and we had all day to play together.  Sometimes, we'd jump on the trampoline until we were tired, then we'd lay down on the trampoline, I'd hold you in my arms and we'd take a nap until your Mom called us to wake up.

This is newborn Bryson resting peacefully in Pawpaw's arms.

This baby Bryson sleeping in Pawpaw's arms. I could do this for hours. My little buddy-pal.

This is Bryson resting in Pawpaw's arms. One year, I took your Mom, Dad, Connor and you to a resort with me. I rented us a whole condo. The resort had a waterpark - a swimming pool with waterslides and a lazy river. You got tired so we snuggled while Mom, Dad and Connor had fun on the waterslide.