Friday, June 13, 2014

Friday Night with Friends: Front Porch Time by David Turner

David Turner is our guest writer tonight. He has recently been reminiscing about his childhood and the interaction between him and the adults in his family. A simpler time, or perhaps a better priority time, those adults spent time with David, teaching truth in a variety of forms that he has never forgotten. He shares a sweet front-porch vignette with us tonight. Enjoy! (Don't forget to encourage him!) 

I think, when I first began to write done my memories of life in Saltillo, MS as a little boy, it was more of an exercise to remind me of a time in my life when I really enjoyed life. Saltillo offered to me an opportunity to experience life in a way that has slowly, but surely, fallen by the wayside.
One such memory that will always be very fresh in my mind is what often occurred in the evenings at my grandparents home in Saltilllo. After a long day’s work in Tupelo, and after she had finished with her tasks around the house, my Aunt, Bertie Turner, and I would sit on the front porch. Often we were joined by my Grandmother, Pearl, and one or more of my cousins. 

Back in the 1950s there were not as many lights as there are now and the stars shined much, much brighter. Aunt Bertie must have been one of the smartest people I know. She knew all the constellations by name and could point them out in the sky. She knew the stories behind each one and very often it became a very interesting science class as she talked about them.  Every once in a while she would nudge me in the side and ask “Did you see that?” She was asking if I had seen the shooting star streak across the sky. There were a lot of different stories behind a shooting (falling) star but she would always tell me that sometimes a star had to fall in order for a new star to take its place.
Most of the time I would fall asleep on the front porch but somehow I would always wake up in my bed. Those were the days of my life that I would like to recover. Saltillo was the center of my universe in the 1950s and, through the magical trips down memory lane, it has reemerged as the most important place in the world to me.