I lived next door to this church for 7 years. From 1961 to 1968. From kindergarten through 6th grade. It was the best home I ever had. My life actually seemed normal back then. A feeling that wouldn’t last.
Anyways, I’ve been thinking of memories of my father. There were 7 of us in the Backwords family. Mom, Dad, and 5 brats. So the family car was always a VW bus, because there were enough seats in it for the whole family to pile into when we went on family trips. And the bus used to be parked in front of our house. This one Halloween night, this older high school kid who was a bit of a local tough soaped up all the windows of the bus as a Halloween prank. Well, my father caught him in the act. He collared the kid and told him he better wash off the soap or he’d be in big trouble. My Dad brought out a bucket of water and some rags and watched over the kid until he had repaired all the damage. I remember looking out the window of our house and watching the action. And I felt proud of my father. Like he was standing tall, protecting the family from harm.
Just a memory from the ancient past.