Good Night from 116 Cedar Street - One Last November on Cedar Street

It is now the first of November 1972, and the leaves are almost completely off the trees on Cedar Street.

At that age, I do not think I realized how different the trees looked after all their leaves had fallen. The crispness of fall was beginning to fill the air.

We were recovering from all the candy we had consumed at Halloween and were already starting to think about the next major event.

Thanksgiving.

There was not much to do outside after school because daylight saving time had ended and darkness came earlier. We had about an hour and a half after school for playing and exploring outside.

As soon as the school bell rang, it was time to run home, get our homework done and then catch some television.

An afternoon after school usually included Gilligan’s Island, The Munsters and Leave It to Beaver.

No afternoon seemed complete without them.

Darkness soon came, and Dad, Clarence Hunter, would arrive home after a day of carpenter work. Mom, Jean Hunter, would always have a big supper waiting.

I loved Momma’s cooking, especially when we had homemade grape juice to drink.

During harvest season, we had grapevines. Some of you may remember my story about trying to make wine when my cousins were visiting from Ohio.

Well, that is a story you will have to go back into the archives and read.

Mom would cook the grapes, take the juice, add a good amount of sugar and pour it into big glass gallon jars.

Best grape juice in Algood!

Another canning process I remember involved sausage.

Mom would cook the sausage, form it into round pieces and place them in glass quart canning jars. She would add some of the grease, put the lids on and place the jars on the cellar shelves.

Mom and Dad canned all kinds of things after a good garden harvest.

Now, back to my story.

After supper, my brothers and I would sit around the kitchen table and talk.

There were no handheld devices.

We actually looked at each other and had conversations.

You see, family life in the early 1970s included real family time.

After supper, we would take out the garbage, check the mail and finish a few other chores. Then we gathered in the living room.

After watching the evening news, we would turn on whatever happened to be airing that night.

If there was a movie on, usually some popcorn was made, and we gathered around the television until bedtime.

Then it was time to wash our faces, brush our teeth, put on our pajamas and climb into bed.

We said our prayers and soon drifted off to sleep.

Looking back from where I am today, I can see just how important that family time was.

A family that prays together stays together.

Even breakfast included conversation before school.

Many mornings were also spent reading the cereal boxes while we ate.

I remember one cereal box that even had a record on the back. You could cut the record out, place it on the record player and listen to a song.

Now, the prize inside a cereal box was always a major factor when trying to convince Mom which cereal she needed to buy.

The better the prize inside, the better the cereal seemed to taste.

We have lost some of that surprise in today’s cereal boxes.

The same was true with a box of Cracker Jack. As a child, those prizes always seemed much more valuable than they did once you became an adult.

Looking back, I can now see many of the values God was teaching me as a young child.

Having a Christian home and Christian parents was a tremendous blessing.

Our daily routines could be interrupted by the weather or something unexpected, but there was always something to do.

Maybe it was watching television after school.

Maybe it was hopping on your bicycle and riding to Paul Goolsby’s store for a Coke and a candy bar.

Maybe it was the surprise of finding a toy in a cereal box or discovering a record printed on the back.

We lived life with closeness.

We had family time.

We talked.

We played board games.

And we went to church.

Sunday morning.

Sunday night.

Wednesday night.

Church came first in our home.

We spent time with God.

I pray my children carry some of those same expectations into their own families.

In many ways, it seemed easier when technology was not what it is today.

Now, we are almost ready for the big move.

We will spend one last Thanksgiving on Cedar Street before moving into our new home at 127 Chilcut Street.

Those memories will be shared over the next couple of weeks.

I pray my stories spark something in your own memories and cause you to go back and reminisce about the street, neighborhood or town where you grew up.

Until next time, love one another, pray for one another and live life to the fullest.

Good night from Cedar Street.