DRAFT Essay #6 family story
dressed, organized and piled into the station wagon for one of these outings. Organize she did, however, and off we would go.
When we did go out, it almost always had to do with something for the church. My father was a Presbyterian minister for something called a “New Church Development.” This meant that in 1961he had left a fancy big city churchy church to travel out to the edge of a new suburb to start a new one. We met in a the basement of one of the subdivisions houses. The “sanctuary” had a linoleum floor, folding metal chairs as pews and a picnic table for an alter. The only thing that made it feel like a church at all, maybe were the prayers, the singing and the amens. My dad’s church had Sunday services like all Christian churches do. He read scripture and preache...
... middle of paper ...
...o discourage any future such “public disruptions” in his town. A bunch of black and white Christians praying against racial injustice on a street corner.... Would that our world have more “public disruptions” like this one. I was four or five I think when all of this happened. Any memory I have is mixed up with the story as my father tells it. Mostly I remember a day long party, the taste of that nice ladies butterscotch candies and how warm she was when she let me sit in her lap. Only as an adult have I slowly become aware of how courageous all those Christians must have been to do such a thing in 1965. Only as an adult can I begin to understand how afraid those Pittsford police officers must have been, and how no-one,
DRAFT Essay #6 family story
none of them, not a single soul, really understood what in heaven’s name we might have been doing. [1,269 word
Need Writing Help?
Get feedback on grammar, clarity, concision and logic instantly.Check your paper »
- Childhood memories are often replaced from the imagination. That is, recent memories replace events that transpired during our childhood; these memories are considered fresh by comparison. Still, there are significant moments in our lives that maintain their place in our memory, based on their importance and their contribution to our lives. My life was forever impacted on a Summer day when my father and I had a fishing trip planned. An otherwise normal day of fishing at the lake would have a dramatic impact in my life, developing and accelerating a passion that would continue throughout my adult life, and will remain impactful for the rest of my adult life.... [tags: Automobile, Truck, Replacements, Memory]
902 words (2.6 pages)
- "Aren 't you going to come out from in there?" a clear voice rang suddenly. She stumbled into a narrow entrance lit by bamboo framed oil lamps to discover its origin. It came from a tall green headdress with pretty purple patterns which housed a face whose warm smile and laughing eyes were full of such strong love that she had only previously known in her grandfather. The kind that made you feel enough in just being - effortlessly accepted. Physical discomfort instantly gone, the preceding episode also evaporated from her mind.... [tags: Family, Grandparent]
1634 words (4.7 pages)
- What do your memories mean to you. Do you think about past events from your childhood and notice how they’ve impacted you. For me, memory means more than just a simple escape from your reality. Memory shows me how much I’ve grown as a person from my past. Memory reminds me that I’ve lived. That’s the most beautiful thing in the world, to have lived and to be able to remanence on living. When I think back to the many childhood memories I have, there is one in particular that seems to never fade.... [tags: English-language films, Psychology, Time, Emotion]
780 words (2.2 pages)
- Childhood friendships usually end up following one of two paths. Either the friendship is an enduring one that stands the test of time or the two playmates simply grow apart over the course of adolescence. For me, two of my closest childhood friendships followed a different path. The days of cutting through my neighbor’s yard and rushing to either Lizzy or Serina’s house so we could talk about the new Justin Bieber single ended so abruptly, it took me months to realize what had actually happened.... [tags: Friendship, High school, Middle school]
1615 words (4.6 pages)
- When I think back to my childhood memories of my father, I remember most his thirst for learning, his reverence for books and the written word, and the way that he shared and transmitted his commitment to knowledge. I picture my father sitting at the head of the dinner table, my mother always seated to his right. Joining us would be companions from many walks of life, scholars, diplomats, artists, students. My father would lead the discourse on a topic of interest, often with historical and cultural roots.... [tags: Personal Narrative, Essay About Myself, 2014]
464 words (1.3 pages)
- A memento is a reminder of the past, a keepsake. They come in many shapes and sizes. People save objects for many diverse reasons. In my case, I will forever keep and pass on my keepsake to my children because of the many good and bad memories it evokes from my childhood and about my father. It is a lime green 1976 KX250 dirt bike that my father had given to me as a child to restore and was exactly the same as the one he had bought as a teen. It is all black with a lime green gas tank that says Kawasaki and has two large knobby tires.... [tags: Personal Narrative]
1251 words (3.6 pages)
- Mostly the things I remember about being six had to do with simple suburban life: the driveway, the front yard, the field down the side yard, the woods behind the house. My brothers and I were always told “go outside and play,” and we did. We biked, triked and scooted up and down the driveway. Then there was a basketball to bounce. Lots and lots of running around and a version of tag in the backyard we called “monster.” My world was pretty clear and contained. Brothers to keep up with, yellow dandelions along at the end of the driveway, the field full of pricker bushes, milkweed pods, ugly sumac trees here, a grove of pine trees in the woods near the creek.... [tags: Personal Experience]
1195 words (3.4 pages)
- Childhood Memories Dad said, "We're going for a ride on the bus." "Ride to where," I thought excitedly. I remember waiting in the bus station; people going about their business. The bus we got on was huge, with room for at least a hundred people, with plenty of room. It was a cold, windy evening. I sat at the front so I could see out of the window. Bright lights were heading towards us. It seemed as though we had been travelling for hours. The bus stopped a few times to pick people up, on the way.... [tags: Papers]
614 words (1.8 pages)
- Scientists tell us that our sense of smell is the sense most closely related to memory. I have to say I agree. It only takes a whiff of freshly brewed coffee to transport me back to my childhood. Yes, my olfactory sense works better than H.G. Wells' time machine. One moment I am comfortably seated in mid-western suburbia; the next moment I am sitting in the kitchen of Grandmother Randel's house in Tampa, Florida. Grandmother Randel, like most Southern Belles, was a marvelous cook, and an even better cook-supervisor.... [tags: First Person Narrative Examples]
931 words (2.7 pages)
- When I was a young child I would love to hear my parents tell me that we were going on a trip. I would be full of excitement, because I knew that we would be going to a place that I had never seen before. My parents, my brother, and I would pack our luggage and venture out in our small gray minivan. Three of my most cherished memories in our minivan are when we went to Disney World, the beach, and the mountains. When I heard my parents talking about going to Disney World I was so excited. It was a long trip down to Florida and I could not sit still, because I was so excited.... [tags: Personal Narrative]
1054 words (3 pages)