Your childhood

Childhood? Not good; so much so that I am not sure I should say much about it: it is not fit to print. Strangely enough, although I was such a rebel and no more a christian than the man in the moon, the Bible was about the only thing I was interested in reading and was very sensitive about the sacrifice this Jesus made on the cross, that He would do that for such a discusting creature such as I. Looking back I see that I put myself in situations that, by all rights, I should have been killed. Do I see the hand of God here? You better believe I do, that is the only way to explain it. My point here is: in witnessing, don't let anyone tell you that they have gone too far, or they are passed saving, they are not. They can still find peace with God though our Lord Jesus Christ.

 

One thing--one thing--one thing that distracted Blackbird a whole lot in childhood that I need to post while my mind is on it(I'll post again later on this same thread!)

Blackbird's daddy and his relatives--when they took a "headache" or any other ache for that matter--the only aspirin they believed in was B C Powder!! Once, the only aspirin my dad could find while he had a headache was a tablet of some off brand(anything other than BC was off brand to him!)--he took the two tablets and hammered them to powder on the kitchen table---downed the powder--goodness gracious, thats tough!

I figure there ain't nothin' worse than--downing a "paper" of BC! Thats the only part of my family that was "dis-functional!"

Your buddy,
Blackbird

 

I too would like to participate but my childhood was very painful, and not one anyone here would enjoy reading.

Your childhood does make who you are. It does make you or break you!

I am so glad Watchman that you do read your Bible now, and know God's Word.

I am glad that Jesus can take our sins, but as well our pains.

I am so glad the damage from my childhood, I never inflicted that pain on my children. I am so thankful. Because most of lifes experiences do tend to be a cycle that are handed down to the next. I am glad I could break those cycles with my own children.


I am so glad, that even tho I did not know Jesus like I do now, He was there all along, loving me, before I ever knew Him.

Praise The Lord!

Sherrie

 

I think I had a pretty good childhood up until about the age of five. After that, it was all downhill leading to rebellion on my part.

Like some of the others, I can remember a lot of the bad things, but I have tried for years and cannot remember one good thing!

But NOW I can sing, "With Jesus in the family, happy happy home".

 

This is true Gina. I turned my rough childhood into a strength and use it to handle the rough times in my life now. God has a way of preparing us for what is to come.

Every adult is who they are TODAY because that is who they CHOOSE to be...not because of their childhood.

 

That was cute Gina. Have you ever thought about writing a book? You just have a great writing style...I would buy it.

Okay....Lived in Maywood, California. Went to Mrs. Robinson's preschool. Remember thinking it was so cool to eat cereal from one of those single serving boxes. Was always the last child to be picked up. Remember the family who ran the place were so kind to me, but also remember the comments they made about my Mom being late again. (maybe that's why I hate being late...never thought about it before)

Kindergarten, remember Wednesday was movie day. Hated to be sick on that day. Remember a boy named LeRoy saying that he was going to marry me. My mother named my little brother after him. Remember making a wood air plane at recess. They had a table with nails and wood and hammers that we learned how to use. Remember how awesome it was to pull a magnet through the sand and pick up iron or whatever it was from it. Played with neighbor kids...discovered that even though a neighbor kid told me that red ants didn't bite...that they really did. Remember playing with vasaline in the garage, put it all over a leather ottoman my parents had...tried to convince my dad it was water...he didn't buy it, but he didn't spank me either.

Moved to La Puente, summer before starting 1st grade. Remember all the neighborhood kids coming to my house to welcome me and me telling them that they could come to my birthday party...something my mother put the kabosh on.

Learned how to swim, got junior lifeguard certification at age 11.

We lived next door to the High School. Remember high school kids coming into our yard to pick our hybrid lemons..they were sweet lemons...if you can imagine. Mom taught them to ask first.

Remember Mom being scared at night because Dad was at work (nights). Someone told her she had to face her fears, so one night she opened the front door to be greated by a very large black man in our front yard, which was fenced so he had to have climbed it...it was about midnight...I still remember her screamming and slamming the door.

Remember our house being broken into and not being able to sleep for a few days.

Remember taking piano lessons, and hating that I had to keep my finger nails short.

Junior High: Best friend ran for School treasurer...told me last minute that I had to make a speech to introduce her. (was so shy I almost fainted on stage...I'm sure I sounded like a complete loser) Danced in the 50's day assembly on stage with my friends to the tune of "My boyfriends back"

(middle of 8th grade year) Moved to Simi Valley...My mom went to work at General Motors, my Dad got jeoulous, accused her of having an affair, beat her up...Mom left with my brother, with no shoes on her feet. Left me at home with my Dad, Started not going to school. Got very depressed, first time attempted suicide. I was 13.

Dad sent my brother and I to Arkansas to spend the summer with my Uncle (mothers side) and his family, learned how to water ski...parents got divorced, Mom got custody, moved to Van Nuys.

Got on Swim team, broke record for backstroke. Got written up in news paper. Failed History class, wasn't allowed to compete in competition after that. Started ditching school, got put in a continuation school. Took Proficientcy exam. Passed. Graduated early.

Mom got remarried. Moved to Arleta. Favorite aunt died in childbearing. Step Dad beat me up, Went to live with a friend's family was 17 years old, lived there for about a year. Moved back home for a short time.

Moved into my own apartment at 19, lived alone. Put myself through college while holding a full time job.

 

Overall, I had a good childhood.

My parents were really good, loving people, and I learned much from them. My home life was really good, with plenty of love, even when my dad was stern (he was a tough Navy man, though had a soft heart, deep down).

School was difficult, though. I was a bit on the hyper side, and my teachers were not very good at handling it. I was swatted instead of helped. It would have been to have had more awareness of children like me back then.

I was also picked on by the more "popular" kids in school, for reasons unknown. I was not very good at sports, and I was a terrible little league baseball player. I think that contributed to it. All this changed when in the seventh grade, I beat up the toughest kid in school. After that, there was a quiet respect for me.

Later, I got into school band and played drums. However, my band teacher was a difficult man who played favorites, so I eventually dropped out. I did run on the cross-country team, though, and made varsity letter three years in a row.

I never had a girlfriend because I was going to be one of "God's Holy Roman Catholic Priests." I was an altar boy, and served mass every day, almost. Sigh. If only I knew then what I know now.


mozier

 

G.I. Joe with the kung fu grip.

Schwin bike; green, banana seat and old school handle bars.

Going to school in Ft. Worth, TX. The class was divided by english speaking and spanish speaking students. The teacher was bilingual. I remember him speaking to us in english and the to the others in spanish. They would look at us and chuckle. I always wondered what they were laughing at, because the what the teacher said in english, wasn't that funny.

I remember going with dad to visit church members in smalltown KY. I was a wee little lad.

1st crush; Lydia in the 8th grade. She really liked me. Shortly after that Dad said we were moving to B'ham. I was crushed.

High school was fast and furious. Was in the band from the 6th grade till 12th grade. I remember the band trips and competitions. Good friends and lots of mischievous behavior.

My childhood was pretty good. Dad was a preacher and we moved often as he taught at the seminary level, continued his studies and preached. I grew up in Indiana, Kentucky, Texas, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida and Georgia.

Then one day I blinked, sneezed and here I am.

 

Born and raised in Baton Rouge. My dad and mom made me who I am today---"Train up a child in the way that he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it."

Camping--hit every KOA kampground in the south from Texas, Arkansas, Tennessee, Alabama, Georgia and both of those Carolina's. When we would camp out of state--daddy would have us visit some Southern Baptist church nearby the campsite--when we were in--state, we'd pack up and leave Saturday nite to be back at our church on Sunday!

Fishing and hunting--I can take you to some places---way way back in the woods--even the IRS would need a map---backwoods swamps with daddy! Cleaning fish--bream and catfish!

Daddy worked for the phone company--the old Ma Bell!! When he worked Saturdays--we'd go to the "shop" with him--all the phone men would chip in and we'd have doughnuts and chocolate milk!! My dad had the phone company job to maintain the phone lines at the LSU football homegames---you know, the little headsets that the coaches wear talking to the other coaches in the press box! He maintained cable television relay microwaves for the game, too! My brother and I watched "a many a ball game" up in the press box!

Being snakebit and falling off a swimming pool ladder onto the concrete below--while trying to slide the slide "backward!"--it was the cool thing to do--but the arm cast wasn't!!

Backyard baseball and football!

Playing church league baseball!

The school bus---short rides TO the school in the mornings--"We're there already???!! MAAAAAAAN!!" Looooooong trips home from school in the afternoon!! "When will we EVER get home?? Can't she drive any faster??? Here, let me drive!!"

Camping out on the riverbank behind the house--a 2 mile hike to the river--

Hanging out with our favorite uncle on his dairy farm--that's where I got the "Farmin'" itch!! Milkin' those Holstein's and Jersey's!

RA campouts! We'd camp when it was "Dad-gum" cold and when it was ferousously hot! It didn't matter to us!! Ticks??? No problem!!

Youth functions and choir "tours!"

Repenting of my sins and receiveing Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior at the age of 18!

Surrendering to preach at the age of 21--going off to college--momma cryin' and daddy acting tough!!

"Now, boy! Be careful!"

I'd come home every weekend at first--but then toward the last of the senior year--daddy would ask, "Think you'll want to come home for Christmas??"

To be totally honest--if I could "Do it!" all over again---I wouldn't miss a single page in going back!!! I'd do it again in a heartbeat!! My dad and mom handed down the blueprint that teaches me how to raise my kids just like they raised me!!

I can go on and on--and if the tread lasts out--I will--just want you guys to know somethin' about how Blackbird was raised!

Your Southern Baptist preachin', childhood rememberin' buddy,
Blackbird

 

I was just going through 30 years of pictures and there were so many memories. Strangely, almost all the pictures reminded me of our life tragedies.

I was a loner, so I spent a lot of time alone trying to figure things out. I feel blessed though. Ultimate evil mom and a dad that was a God send.

I got involved in the darker side of things. My favorite book when I was ten years old was a collection of Edgar Allen Poe's stories. I collected artwork by Frank Frazetta. I had every Creepy and Eerie magazine I could get a hold of. His work inspired me as an artist. I was drawn to horror movies.

Although my dad was like a good mom, he was an athiest, God was not spoken of. I remember asking him about the devil once because a Catholic girl I went to school with was telling me this stuff about God and the devil. My dad said "there is no God, no devil, no heaven and no hell!" Forget about it.

At that time I was so pained emotionally I would go outside, look up at the sky and ask God if he was there. He showed me in a way I could relate, through his beautiful creation. Since I was artistically inclined and very into the details of thing. I could see there was a God. There had to be. All the intricate details of every single thing, I knew could not be an accident as we were being taught in school about evolution.

I accepted Christ when I was 21. My dad accepted him in 1988 before he died. Yes I believe my childhood influenced who I am in Christ today. He turned all the evil and pain to my good. It made me a loving mom and the bonus is I am very sensitive to hurting people as a result. I have been given the answer to peoples broken lives. Jesus!

 

We had our share of accidents, too! My brother "discharged" his 12ga. in our bedroom---blew a hole clean through the sheetrock wall about the size of a dollar coin---fortunately, he was the only one in the room at the time---filled the room up with powder smoke! My brother commented, "I thought that was smokeless powder!"

I was working on a gas engine powered airplane in the house--trying to see why it wouldn't start!! I twisted a few screws, turned a knob and put the "battery" on the glowplug---twisted the prop--all the time daddy was sayin', "Don't start that in here! Don't start that in here!"

"It ain't gonna start!!! Somethin's wrong with the stupid thing!"

Well, it did!!! The engine was screamin' louder than a real Mustang---or so it seemed!! So loud I couldn't hear daddy yellin'---filled the kitchen with exhaust smoke--and smoke from my big ole "rear end" when daddy finished with me!!

 

The school cafeteria!! The lunchline--washin' hands and chattering in line---"Pass the word, Dogfood!!"

Spinach being served and ironically at the same time the janitor out mowing the grass---still makes Blackbird worried that the school officials were "pullin' one over" on him!

Blackbird

 

You are a Hoot! I tell you what....your crazy! Don't Change! For real...don't!

Your buddy
Sherrie

 

Dr. Bob said:

In St. Louis City, you just waited for them to deliver. Then you climbed on the truck took the whole block of ice and pushed it out on the street. It busted everywhere, and kids from everywhere darted in for the kill! The Milk Man would come running and yelling so upset...one of the kids would yell "RUN"! And the next thing you know the streets were bare. Well you could see trails of melts ice...but that is all you seen.

Did I climb up in that truck and do that?....I plead the 5th!

Sherrie

 

We had an icebox. The iceman delievered ice every couple of days. Our house was never locked. The milkman came inside and put your order in the icebox.

Things were so simple then.
Diane

 

Yeah Diane...Nothing like a chunk of ice and a bolgna sandwhich! And we ate that sandwhich like it was steak! It was sooooooooo good. (I hate bologna now) And when the Hot Tamale Man came down the street with his cart, we would get 5 Hot Tomales for a quarter. That also was good with a chunk of Ice.

He'd yell "Hot Tomale's! "Get your Hot Tamale's!"

Along with hating Bologna...I hate Hot Tamale's now.

But the best is when the Vegetable Man came down the street with his push cart. It was almost as wide as the old brick streets in the city. Us kids would laugh at him because he had to always beat the street car crossing certain places. Oh he was good!

We would get all the bad vegetables for awhile. And we would throw them at him. Oh that was so much fun. He could not put the cart down and chase us. Nor could he when we was getting his vegetables. Then he got real smart on us and got one of those horse whips. He would swing it and yell. hahahahahahahahahaha! That was funnier than throwing them at him!

Ahhhhhhhh...I know....shame on me....I have visited that guy in the nursing home when I was around 25. Nicest guy you ever wanted to meet. He remembered me, and we both laughed about those times. Only his story was different than mine. He kept saying he whooped my rear-end. Funny I don't remember that.

Sherrie