The Shot Heard Round the Neighborhood

Dad gave my Brother (B) his first and only slingshot, but I'm not sure if the occasion was Christmas, birthday or 'just because.'

I say Dad, because I'm sure his decision overrode a veto Mother surely issued. She abhorred anything perceived as violent, apt to injure siblings or any living creature, damage inanimate objects , or initiate nuclear destruction of the world.

Dad gave B instructions in slingshot use and a litany of safety instructions, no doubt supervised by Mother. I remember observing the tutoring.

This slingshot was store-bought, probably Woolworth's, simply styled like homemade ones with traditional "Y" structure and wide rubber band-like slings between the "Y" arms.

Although I'm not sure B's age, I think it was pre-school. I may have been in first grade. In those days 1st grade let out about noon, so Mother still held her Bible story and other reading sessions in the afternoon, plus the obligatory nap which I persistently, consistently, faked, using such time to conjure up my next escapade.

The David and Goliath encounter was a regularly requested Bible story. Often Mother allowed us to select our favorite stories. B's was often David/Goliath; mine was Gideon's army, followed by Joshua and the fall of Jericho. Seems B and me liked weaponry, war and regimentation, like marching around Jericho sounded trumpets, etc. [Maybe this inspired me to abandon a cappella chorus and join the high school marching band; I played piccolo and flute instead of trumpet, but we occasionally shouted as part of our marching routines!]

Although our little brains had not developed the ability to comprehend allegories of good vs. evil, or the Lord's on our side, etc., we quickly grasped the finite details of the stories. Hence, David's sling-shot was fully understood as a lethal weapon.

Play-acting David and Goliath outdoors was a natural extension of our storybook hour and nap. At first I would be Goliath, but one wee stone on the shin cured my desire to be the Great One. Goliath was a braggart, not a wimp. Further B and I knew if we were caught aiming slingshots at anything with a respiratory system meant violent repercussions from both parents.

Since he did not share his toy with me, I made my own slingshot with a tree branch and some rubber bands...a really wimpy slingshot. A small stone was not much of a projectile; it fell with a faint Plop! one foot away. Our parents knew I devised the seemingly harmless slingshot imitation.

B and I had "competitions" to see which slingshot stone went the longest distance. Of course, he won.

We aimed at the side of the brick house, the garage, a playhouse, but contact was a rare event. However, one fateful day one of us connected with a window of our house-not just any window-the window by which Mother sat, reading. It made a small crack in a lower corner--hardly noticeable. OOPS!!!

Mother was a large woman, but she nearly sprinted out the door and horse collared both of us. Mother did not live to know horse collaring is a major NFL penalty these days. B and I might have had grounds for personal injury claims.

Since neither of us knew which stone hit the window, we both received 'paddling,' as it was called at our house. We both were honest--neither of us knew which stone hit the window, and I guess we both were in error for aiming at something of value--except in my 1st grade rational mind the house was not a living, breathing thing. Belatedly I came to realize if Mother was in the house, it became a living, fire-breathing dragon lady with a paddle.

Paddling meant the application of a paint paddle to our derrieres. Dad's lumber and hardware store dispensed free paint paddles with cans of paint sold. Mother wore out two paint paddles on three children before a different kind of discipline was incrementally installed, according to age.

Since she grabbed the paddle before exiting the house, we received "on the spot" discipline. We cried and hollered. B tried to suck it up like a little man; not me. I let the neighborhood know I was being persecuted, in true Biblical fashion--no sparing the rod at our house!

And where was little sister during this fun? She was not a tomboy and probably was demurely, quietly, playing with her dolls. I never learned "demurely, quietly."

The neighborhood fell silent!

Unlike the Biblical story, David and Goliath both were slain with LOUD SPATS accompanied by hollaring and exaggerated sobbing in the Richardson backyard on Elizabeth Drive ('silk stocking row'), then an exclusive subdivision, one sunny week-day afternoon.

[David and Goliath painting by Caravaggio courtesy Wikimedia Commons]
[Other graphics - Internet]

Post Script: Brother received a BB gun as a gift (Christmas or birthday). It was immediately relegated to Dad's gentleman's farm/ranch for use only with Dad, under his supervision, for hunting hen-house bandits and varmints stealing eggs and feed. This was an abysmal hunting failure as most hen-house criminals were snakes. Maybe there was small redeeming value in the companionship of father/son!

No doubt Mother only allowed this gift with this mandate.

The Bible Hour Fish Ponds Fiasco

In previous posts Mother's comprehensivet knowledge of Scripture was mentioned. Her teaching techniques were to read us two stories before our afternoon nap (which I often faked). She chose a Bible story and a story from children's literature. My favorite fiction was the wicked little Peter Rabbit. I fantasized about his escapades.

Her favorite Bible story source was Hurlbut's Story of the Bible. [I have the book she used 60-plus years ago!] The Bible story book is written like any storybook, except some of the names were hard to pronounce.

Mother often added "color" to the stories so they came alive. I and my siblings asked penetrating questions about the stories. Mother always had an answer.

After our naps and my faked nap, we would playact some aspect of these stories. Most of our antics were amusing to Mother. We baptized our dolls in the dog's water bowl, served the Last Supper morning, noon and night, and dozens of other child imaginary Biblical scenes.

One of my favorite stories was Gideon and his 300-man army . I did not key in on the "victory of the Lord" with a small army. I was intrigued how Gideon chose his army by the way they drank water from a water source. The chosen men lapped water like a dog from one cupped hand, while the other hand held weapons.

One part of our back yard was off limits to me and my siblings - a fish pond, today's koi pond predecessor. It was about one foot deep with lily pads and goldfish. A net covered the pond so if we accidently fell, the net would prevent us from drowning

I wanted to see if I'd be a good soldier in the Lord's army, so with my dog Snooky by my side I knelt down to try lapping water. I watched the dog, then I tried to mimic his lapping. My little hand would only hold two teaspoonfuls, so I didn't get many laps through the sieve-like hand. Practice did not last long...

Mother caught me in the act, and interceded with a paddling. I was mystified why trying to be a good soldier was wrong. It was the off-limit fish pond, but I thought the Lord's work superceded and negated the fish pond off-limits order. Snooky innocently watched the paddling, but he escaped spanking.

Another fish pond got me trouble. Our city park, two blocks from home, had two fish ponds with a wishing well drinking fountain, all off-limits to me and reinforced every time I went to the park. The park attendant lived on the grounds. His granddaughter and I became friends in the second grade.

I was allowed to walk to the park and play with my friend. I usually carried a toy, or played with hers. One day we baptized our the dolls in the fish pond. I was sure the Lord was proud we knew how to do it and say just the right words.

Alas, when I returned home and proudly told Mother we were doing the Lord's work, [I was no good at lying anyway], it was another paddling, plus I was no longer allowed to go play with my friend in the park. Later her parents bought a home one block from us; I just trotted down the alley to play with her. They had no fish ponds, just cats.

Bible stuff was a puzzlement, when I was very young. Somehow it appeared my parents authority was higher than God's and not vice versa. So much for being called by the Lord.

I wonder if my fish pond excursions caused me to have a great fear of water, as I never learned to swim and have an unhealthy fear of water to this day!