September 2, 2014 (Tuesday)
I was raised in the city. The fact of the matter, however, was that when I was a little boy, many people then living in the city of Houston had been raised in the country. Back then, a visit to relatives still living in the country meant going somewhere very different from the city.
We had relatives in East Texas. They really lived in “the country.” People today who were never exposed to what was called “country” back then think of the country now as wide open spaces, sparsely populated, but living conditions no different from those in the city. People living out there away from the cities today have electricity, indoor plumbing, air conditioning, plenty of lighting, television and all the modern conveniences. Inside there is wall to wall carpeting, and virtually all the amenities they desire and can afford. Back in my childhood days, “going to the country” meant entering a different world.
Kerosene lamps provided lighting at night. Free roaming chickens and other animals kept the yard free of grass. Our relatives were not well off financially, and so not all windows had screens and some doors were homemade, as were the houses, for that matter. Without electricity there were no electric fans, no electric refrigerators, and butter was made with a churn. I remember seeing my grand aunt churning by pushing and pulling what looked like to me to be a plumbers helper up and down in a big ceramic jar. I reported to my grandfather that Aunt Clyde was making butter with a toilet stick. I was a little kid–what did I know? Wood was the fuel for cooking and heating. There was no bathroom. Water was hauled to the house, basins for washing hands, etc. could be in any room, and washtubs were used for bathing. Everyone in the country had outdoor toilets. If anyone had a radio, it was battery powered, and seldom used because the batteries were expensive. Few cars were around, but still numerous horses and wagons, reminders of the “good old days”. My cousins walked to a one-room school that included all grades. Those days are now gone forever. The small communities of Clawson and Keltys have been swallowed by the growing city of Lufkin (my mother’s birthplace).
In my childish mind, my relatives in the country seemed deprived, because I had been raised with all the modern conveniences. Later in my life, when I was pastoring a church in Dallas, a couple in the church bought a little cabin in the woods somewhere around Buffalo and Fairfield. They had a nice home in Dallas, but they dearly loved to go to that cabin as often as they could. There they lived with conditions somewhat like those described above, but they loved every minute of it. If possible, they would have lived in that cabin all the time.
I think my Dallas friends were onto something that the rest of us may have lost amidst the technological wonders of our times. Upon returning from their stays in the country, there was a peaceful air and a pleasant glow about them that many of us long for.