..there was a lot of love..

I am thankful for all who have influenced and taught me.

July 10, 2007 (Tuesday) – In the old days, I mean the real old days, two
hundred or three hundred years ago and longer, most people married
someone who lived fairly close to their home. Consequently, the couple had
much in common: Irish married Irish, English married English, etc. Of course,
there were always exceptions, but this was the general practice.
Then the people started traveling. They discovered new lands and new
people. As our country grew, more and more people from very different
backgrounds and nationalities and religions, etc. got to know each other.
Many of them married people they probably never would have met in an earlier
era.
My mother and father had little in common. Perhaps that’s why they had a
difficult marriage that ended in divorce. I would like to share a little bit about
the homes from which they came, and how my grandparents influenced me.
My mother was born in Lufkin, Texas in 1912. Her mother was born in Leon
County in 1885 and when still a little girl moved to Angelina County with her
parents in a covered wagon. Mother’s father was born in Donaldson,
Arkansas in 1882 and worked in East Texas on the Southern Pacific railroad
as a section gang foreman. They were not “church folks,” but they dearly
loved us grandkids, and provided a home for us off and on during our
childhood.
My father was born in Prescott, Wisconsin in 1907. His mother’s home town
was a few miles away in River Falls. Her mother died when she was born in
1884 and she was raised by her mother’s family, the Tozers, who were devout
Christians. His father was born in Worthington, Minnesota, in 1877, but his
parents’ New York roots ran deep, and his mother took her four sons on train
trips back there for extended visits whenever possible. Clint, my dad’s father,
had polio as a child, and as he grew up developed an ardent interest in faith
healing. He later became a Pentecostal Holiness preacher, along with being
a photographer to pay the bills.
My dad’s family moved to Humble, Texas around 1915. My mother’s family
lived in section houses up and down the railroad, and one was in Humble. So
the boy and girl in those families who were destined to be my parents, met.
And married. In 1930.
The grandparents with whom I lived off and on until I was about 13, were my
mother’s parents. Without going into details, it was not an environment that
could be called Christian, and that’s quite an understatement. But as I said
above, there was a lot of love for us kids. My grandfather, who had lived a
rough and rowdy life before I was born, was a kind and loving grandfather who
taught me to be courteous, kind and appreciative of whatever good things
that might come my way. They also somehow drilled into me the desire to “go
to college some day.”
My other grandparents were very religious, and were always involved in
mission work in poor areas, and in places where a new church might be
needed. My grandfather played a pump organ and sang and preached on the
street in Houston, and would set up tents for extended services in places
where they were needed. He was a good and kind man and she was a loving,
dedicated Christian lady. I saw them at big family gatherings, but not very
often in daily life. Truth is, my father, who was a quiet, kind and hard-working
man, had felt neglected and unloved as a teenager, rebelled at that time against
his raising, and never established close ties with his father, at least as
far as I, as a child, could see. I lived with my grandmother for several
months when I was fourteen, and she was a widow. She was very good and
kind to me.
Here I am, in my seventies, still wondering at times who I am and how I got
here. As I said in an earlier blog, I am extremely thankful for each and every
person who has influenced and taught me through the years. In truth, I would
not be here were it not for them and you.