Driving home from the museum, top down, basking in the West Texas sun, radio blaring, the Craig Morgan song, That’s What I Like about Sundays, came on. It took me back to Sunday nights, long ago, growing up on the coast and attending First Baptist Church which was the center of everything we did.
Sunday nights were special. Our church had a class called Training Union which everyone out of the cradle and not yet in college attended. It wasn’t like the Catholic’s catechism, it was more like a class on character building. After Training Union, was the hour long, sometimes much longer church service. We usually sat with the Grayson’s who had a daughter a couple of years younger than me. But that wasn’t what made Sunday nights special.
After church, rotating each week, we either went to the Grayson’s for ice cream, cake and coffee, or to our house. Sarah especially liked coming to our house because we had a den and a television. Her father had been in the Air Force and their house was a smaller version of a military base. Everything was in perfect order. Floors were tile and shiny, furniture lined up against the walls, clean plain walls, every thing in perfect order…and with all that order, there was no place for a TV.
Our two families were not the only ones who participated in this Sunday night ritual, Mr. Powell, and another teacher, Mr. Bray came as well. Mr. Powell was serious, carefully thought out, well read and middle aged. Mr. Bray was young, single, a bit flippant and bordered on being a know it all.
On the nights at the Grayson’s, there were always discussions about current happenings in the world. Sarah and I would go to the kitchen to get our cake and ice-cream and try to hide out there. Before we could get settled though one of our mothers would call us, insisting that we join the conversation….and Mr. Powell, the facilitator, made sure we were involved, asking us questions and wanting our childish viewpoint.
On the good nights Mr. Bray would make some outrageous statement, Mr. Powell would pounce and the debate would be off with hardly anyone getting a word in edgewise. Those were the nights Sarah and I loved. When the discussion got to fever pitch we would slip out the door and walk the half a block and around the corner, to my house to watch TV.
One such night, it had rained off and on all day. The discussion had gotten to a fever pitch earlier than usual since Mr. Bray had ridden from church to the Grayson’s with Mr. Powell. Sarah and I decided to ditch the cake and ice cream and head for my house immediately. There was heavy cloud cover and it being fall, especially dark. The trees, blowing in the wind, with their leaves fluttering, made creaky noises and cast spooky shadows on the street ahead. Feeling scared about walking in the dark, we decided to hold hands and sing Amazing Grace.
A car door slammed, then a shutter banging, pushed our fright to a fever pitch. Almost to the door of my house, the neighbor’s huge German Shepherd came running, barking, from the bushes, into the street, straight at us. I took off running, as hard as I could, screaming, with Sarah, who was also screaming, pushing me from behind. I got to the door, slammed the key in the door and just as I did, Sarah, not watching me… but rather looking back at the dog, slammed into me, breaking the key in half…in the lock. The dog looked as surprised as me. About the time I thought we were dead, the dog recognized me as the girl next door, and trotted back to his porch. It had started to rain again, and not being able to get in to the house, we headed back to the Grayson’s house, this time at a dead run.
We walked in drenched and had to explain to my dad what had happened to the key. Looking over to the table we realized not only did we not get to watch TV…..the cake and ice cream were gone too….then my dad stood up and announced we really needed to get home.
The years passed, Sarah and I went off to college, the Grayson’s moved away and the Sunday night ritual became a thing of the past. I still remember fondly those evenings…….that’s what I loved about Sundays.......
- Cut and paste to hear Craig Morgan’s song, “That’s what I like about Sundays”
- www.youtube.com/watch?v=pm3aCyRD3Vg
