The big old drafty eight-room house
with the hall right through the middle,
stood there on a foundation of blocks,
on a sandy uppaved, uncurbed street
on the east edge of San Angelo. The
lawn and trees (if there ever were any)
were blown long ago by the relentless,
merciless Texas winds.
Gone with the top soil-- maybe once
ten inches deep. As far as the eye
could see, there was nothing but packed
reddish clay, baked into a "hard-pan"
like surface by the merciless summer
temperatures of over 100 degrees.
When the old house had been built
nobody likely knew. In sense it had
been cared for, to some extent, as
the siding clapboards were painted
and the roof didn't leak.
There were no rooms in it with fancy
names...like "parlor, study, den, sewing
room, library or family room." Not much
imagination had gone into it. What you
saw was what you got. A hall through
the middle...a door at each end...and
eight rooms, (I think---four to a side )
but then---I never was in them all...
The heat of choice for just
about all those old Texas domiciles
of the earlier twentieth century---was
not central heating...with vents in
every room---it was often un-vented
radiant stoves or so-called space-
heater stoves... which were also not
vented. (At least wood stoves were
normally vented in those times.)
It is a wonder anyone in civilization
lived through all the carbon monoxide.
But to continue my story...when I was
about twenty, I spent a night in that
house...one cold February. It's true.
Right there in the front bedroom, off
the hall. Near the front door..unlocked.
I'd like to tell you that it was a big fine
plush bedroom, with a Tall Boy Bed
(I was a full 6'3" in those tines), but
it had an old radiant stove, a worn
linoleum floor, an old couch, maybe a
chair, and a small modest bed with a
worn mattress.
I had anticipated a resting place with
quilts galore, for no matter what comes
in life, if I've got some quilts, I can make
it. Long-quilts, covering me top to
bottom!
This bare and sparse little room had
that undersized bed with a skimpy
electric blanket. (I have ever-since
detested electric blankets...of any
ilk!)
To make it worse, I had to sleep with
a preacher! Just kidding a little, but
it's true. We two guests got the bed and
the host got the old couch.
But to hasten on with my story giving
you a slice of life from college boys
of the early fifties...I was a junior at
Hardin-Simmons U., Abilene Texas,
and a vocal/choral student. I had
dedicated my life to singing the
Gospel of Jesus Christ...to the world.
Several of us boys, including the HSU
young preacher students, already had
Sunday churches where we served every
week. Some directed the music...and
others, at other venues, preached.
My church was at Ozona, 150 miles
from HSU, there southwest of San
Angelo. The trip very early every Sunday
involved my arising at 5 a.m., driving
three hours in my old beloved 48
Chevrolet. Then three hours back,
after youth fellowship at the church,
after the evening service. It was a
killer trip...60 mph was my top speed.
So my preacher friend Charles said
to me one week, "Now Roy (a young
preacher), is a freshman from San
Angelo and lives with his grandparents.
He goes home every weekend, and
we can drive down relaxed-like on
Saturday and stay at his house! He
has invited us!!" Charles had a church
down there somewhere and he went
every weekend, like I did.
So we did it! One weekend. We tried
it. Roy took the couch, and I froze in
the bed...with Charles. Drove separately.
Now I don't remember anything about
hot showers or bath facilities but I can
relate to you my unfaded memory of
my first-ever Sunny-side-up Fried Eggs.
We dressed and went down that long
hall to the next-to-the-last door on
the left, or north end of the house.
There was Roy's nice old grandmother,
in that warm bacon-aroma-ed sparse
kitchen, with the red-checked oil cloth
covering the plain table...she had a
big iron skillet full of grease...which she
was sloshing over those eggs with the
big yellow yokes...until they were...kinda
done! Nice folks, warm welcome...sharing
what they had. Nice of Roy to invite us.
And what a memorable slice of life. "We
are a part of all we have met." Charles
and I became life-long friends and he
passed several years ago, having
preached his whole life.He had met
Jesus in a motel room, from a Bible.
So my friends, THAT was my first
encounter with "Eggs, Sunnyside-up"
There was one more later on...and that
was it...for me.
---------
MIL
23 JANUARY 2020
