There were at least 4, maybe 6, pews end-to-end on each side of the center aisle and two very wide outside aisles. Things would get started with several altar boys, dressed in white robes, coming down the center aisle followed by the reverend. The first altar boy carried a cross bigger than he was. There were 20 or so people in the choir who sat in more pews up behind and to one side of the pulpit.
I really couldn't understand what the reverend was saying. He spoke into a microphone for what seemed like hours. Most of the time Momma was shushing us. We would fight over who got to put their feet on the knee bench, mess with the hymnbooks, fidget and pick on each other, or sometimes my sister and I would just get the giggles, which, of course, there is no hope for. Finally, it would be time for all the children to go out to the other building for Sunday school. The Altar boys again came down the aisle heading out, and all the children fell into line behind them. In Sunday school classes we had fun learning stories and making things. Then we got cookies and orange juice.
I think my mom tried to instill her religion in us when we were young. I can remember saying bedtime prayers and grace at meals. Other than that I cannot recall religion being a part of our daily lives. There were no crosses on the walls or any other sort of religious icons in our home. As we got into our teen years, we were not made to go to church. The only time I heard grace after that was at our grandmothers" house for Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners where she occasionally passed out in her plate because she liked to drink, but that's another story .
3.
When we first moved to Kentucky, we moved in with my dad's Uncle Ernest who was blind and lived in the family's 3-story rock house that was built just after my dad was born. Now, instead of preachers coming to his home, Uncle Ernest went to Holliday Baptist Church, usually refered to as the Holliday Cemetary.
