Stories to Tell: Part V

The Town Criers 

I started seventh grade at a new middle school.  The great thing about Bedford Middle was that there were multiple elementary schools feeding into this one school so there were strangers to everyone.  The hard part was being the kid who no one knew.  I remember tiny snapshots of my first day.  I remember the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach. I remember feeling like everyone was starring at me and judging me.  Let's be fair this is not an uncommon feeling for any kid in their early teens but I felt like it was so magnified for me.  I remember sitting close to the front of the classroom while everyone filed in chatting excitedly, all curious of what to expect.  I recall watching the second hand slowly tick by on the large clock over the chalk board of home room.  Bedford Middle is this amazing old building set up like a square where hallways circled around the central auditorium.  I am so sad that they are planning to build a new middle school--what will they do with such a special landmark right smack in the middle of town?  Anyway, the building was set up so that in each corner of the building there were different "teams" of classrooms.  We would all rotate to different classes in our team.  I don't remember my eighth grade team name, but I do remember seventh grade--The Town Criers (they were all revolutionary themed things).  My homeroom teacher was Mrs. Johnson.  She was a beautifully petite black woman.  She was graceful, eloquent, and kind.    She was always gracious but she also had that little bit of bite to her wit and humor that you so often need with a bunch of young teens.  I loved her instantly. 

Beyond appreciating my teachers, the rest of seventh grade was pretty difficult for me.  There were "mean girls" in my class--just like the movie.  At least it felt that way.  I remember their names but no need to repeat them.  I tried to stay out of their way as much as possible.  My first friend was Mandy Stanley!  We did not remain close friends but we are friendly I would say. Goodness, I must thank the Lord for her though as I look back on those days.  You know, we both needed a good friend in those days and I am glad that we could be that for each other.  The first time I heard Alanis Morisette was in her bedroom.  And I met my first high school boyfriend because she dated his older brother.  The first day I invited her over to our house to work on a school project on the Battle of Saratoga, I begged and pleaded with my mother not to embarrass me.   My old friends knew that Mom could randomly burst into song about anything from ice cream to toilet paper--but my new friends did not and I did not trust that these cool "city" (haha) kids would appreciate her lively personality.  "Please, Mama, no singing." 

She sang.  I'm pretty sure it was the song, "In The Heat of the Night."  It's a classic for her. She stopped in the middle of it, remembering my censure.  I was mortified.  It was fine.  I still have friends.  Mama lived to see another day. In fact, she became everyone's Mama in time. 

Bedford Pres

By the beginning of eighth grade I had found my circle of friends.  Many of these women are still my sisters.  We've been in each other's weddings (I've officiated 3 of them), we've celebrated milestones like graduate school, ordination (for two of us), and children.  If they are reading this right now they are probably thinking, "Oh no, what will she tell on me" or "I wonder if she will call me by name." Sorry girls, in the course of this blog series, I probably will, at least once.  :) 

One Friday night, my friend Erin, (Erin Jean) had a sleepover at her house.  Her daddy was the Presbyterian minister in town.  Literally the nicest folks you'd ever meet.  I think Mama was nervous to take me to my first sleepover in Bedford until she met the Gaston's.  What do I remember about that sleepover?  Eating snacks and watching movies in the basement. Sliding down the stairs in our sleeping bags.  Gossiping about boys.  Discussing the merits of Hootie & The Blowfish--who Erin adored.  What Mama remembered?  Joseph Gaston invited us to church. 

I have lots of memories about that church manse, where Erin lived.  As we got older, I remember Erin painting her room Purple & Orange (yes?) because in addition to Hootie, she was (IS) also passionate about the Clemson Tigers.  I remember hiding under her little brother Caleb's bed one night to scare him... my giggles gave it away.  I remember Erin's mom selling Mary Kay and doing a make up party for us to get ready for Junior Prom.  Now Erin and I are both ordained ministers, both married, and Erin is expecting her first child.  What neither of us realized is that from that slumber party our friendship was solidified and my life was forever changed because of her invitation.

Grandma Pearlie was living with us at this time.  She told Mama that if I didn't get to church I'd become a heathen.  She is probably right (the tendencies are still there, just below the surface). I told my parents if they wanted to visit churches we should start at Bedford Presbyterian with the Gaston's because my friends went to church there.  We never went anywhere else.    

There will be more to tell about BPC in the segments to come, it has been such a central part of my faith and also my social anchor growing up.  I'll tell you a little bit about some of the first adults I remember in the church.  Bob & Jo Carson were instrumental in my life.  Bob taught us Senior High Sunday School-- he taught me that it is okay to ask questions about our faith, that is how we learn.  He taught us about the Scriptures and World Religions too.  We always started Sunday School with High's & Low's from our week--a tradition I've carried into my own ministry.  Bob & Jo are awesome people as individuals--but Elli Buchanan (who I've known since she was 3-now favorite young adult ever) as a toddler made me see Bob & Jo as a unit--they became "BobandJo." Jo was on session and stood with me at my baptism.  They've been staple adults in my life ever since.  There is also Joyce.  I've talked about Joyce before--the most humble, God-fearing, kind woman you will ever meet in your life.  She always showed interest in the life of my family.  And if you ever wanted someone to pray for you-Joyce is the woman....she has a direct line to God, I am certain of it.   There's Dick Thomas, a lawyer and just killer guitarist, who when I was older and my mom was in the hospital--came to visit her every day.  There's also the Stetson's....my friend Katie's parents.  They were youth advisors who loved us all completely.  Their quirkiness and willingness to be silly with us helped us all to embrace our individuality.  Another youth advisor was Eunice.  When I grow up I want to be just like Eunice.  She's just the coolest woman, and she has a great sense of humor.  When I had Kemper I also discovered that she is a baby-whisperer.  No lie. 

These were our friends, the people we built our lives with. The people who have continued to be with us through the best and most difficult times in our lives.   But, I have no doubt now that God brought us into this particular community- knowing that we needed them and, well,  they needed us.