Memorial Day Memories
When I was a kid, we’d go to my grandmother’s church for Memorial Day Sunday every year.
It was a little country church, and there was no air conditioning. They had these hand held fans with a picture of Jesus and an advertisement for the funeral home on one side and the football team schedule on the other.
After the service, there was dinner on the grounds. A long table was set up outside and the table cloth would blow in the breeze. I couldn’t wait for the prayer to end to get at it.
We’d have fried chicken and pickled peaches, mac and cheese and deviled eggs; it was great stuff. There were all kinda desserts and all the little old ladies with funny hats would come up and ask if you’d tried their cobbler. I was glad to make ’em all happy and have one of each.
After church we’d play nine holes of golf with my Dad and uncles. One time Uncle Dan the farmer went and watched me tee up. He observed with intent then said, “Boy hand me one of them stobs (a tee) and let me try.”
One time he played with my set and lost the seven iron, but he went down to Firestone’s and replaced it right away. I was the only kid in town with a full set of Wilson Arnold Palmer clubs and a Sam Snead Blue Ridge 7-iron. I still have ’em and cut ’em down years ago for my son to get started with. (We didn’t know they made special clubs for kids, but he turned out to be a fine player anyway.)
I saw where Ms. Susan shared some Memorial Day memories and asked folks to share theirs. (She is on my blogroll) I too would interested to know how folks around the country celebrate, so drop me a comment if you can, and visit her too- it was her idea first.