November 6

Big Lake had the usual assortment of churches, Baptist, Methodist, etc.  The two other churches that we had the most interaction with were the Assembly of God and Bethel Baptist.  I remember Bethel Baptist mostly due to a ‘concert’ they had with some sort of Jesus Movement music group.  To illustrate how out of sync we were with the rest of the world, I was totally enthralled by this female duo singing an acoustic version of “Put your hand in the hand of the man from Galilee.”  It was pretty much standard issue California folk music but it was pretty radical for West Texas.  Those girls must have been from the big city, like Odessa, Midland or San Angelo.

Our interaction with the Assembly of God was more due to the fact that mom and dad befriended the Clamons.  Ben was the pastor, and they had a boy about my age, Chip.  I remember doing at least one sleep-over over there, and it was kinda strange.  I’m pretty sure he had bunk beds, but we were both in the same bunk.  And I don’t remember what we talked about (although in my mind it was girls) but I do remember him attempting to hump me from behind.  It was only MUCH later that the thought occurred to me to look him up and find out if he was gay or not.  I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he is, but then again it may have just been raging hormones.

One other way that our church interacted with others was our traditional Friday night hamburger cookout/fellowship after high school home games.  All town residents were invited, and I believe hamburgers were free to the football team members.  The men took over the kitchen and grilled hamburgers by the dozens.  It’s a pleasant memory.  But then it isn’t much of a stretch to associate churches with food.  It’s the number one leverage for attendance!

My last year in Big Lake I was in sixth grade.  I somehow ended up on the track team, which was really just a farm team for the older grades.  I especially enjoyed staying at the back of the lead pack and trying to time my move and pass up as many as I could on the final stretch.  I never did excel at high jump or hurdles, not being particularly tall.  I don’t recall much success at pole vaulting or long jumping either.  But I could run decently.  Unfortunately it turned out to be my last year in organized sports.

One thing that I DID particularly excel at was band.  Again, I don’t recall the details but I’m sure it involved some sort of tryout, and I ended up in the percussion section.  It was the beginning of a lifelong pursuit and enjoyment of music, not just as a listener.  I put in a lot of time practicing my snare drum techniques.  I would use those skills for years.

As a kid, as far as I knew we were all happy with being in Big Lake.  Evidently my mom wasn’t quite as happy as the rest of us.  I think it had to do with the hot, dry dusty climate more than anything else.  And I’m sure the pervasive odor of sulfur that was a byproduct of drilling for oil didn’t help any.  So when her friend from high school, Pearl Levar, contacted us about possibly preaching at their church in Lake Worth in view of a call, the Lord mysteriously led us in that direction.  In short order we were approved and called and packed.  Our eight-year stay in Big Lake was at an end.  It was the summer of 1973, and I was twelve years old.  I remember being sad, seeing Big Lake fade away out the rear window of the car, but I was looking forward to this mysterious Lake Worth place.  The school was underground!

We visited the Levars during our initial visit, and I spent a good part of the time outside sitting on the grass, my back up to a cement barrier at the edge of the apartment complex parking lot, listening to my portable AM/FM transistor radio I had received the previous Christmas.  My mouth hung open, my eyes were wide.  All up and down the dial, no matter where I tuned it, there was music!  Station after station.  I was in heaven!  I knew I was going to like the big city.

On my first visit to the junior high school that summer, I was picturing some sort of military bomb shelter type of place where there was a long ramp leading down to the doors.  In fact, when you get to the school you saw the elementary school and the high school in what were very traditional type school buildings.  Each was on either side of the street.  The elementary school was farther back off the road, and there was a good reason for that, because the junior high was in-between.  All you could see of it was four small square brick buildings, each was the top of a stairwell.  In fact the road passed directly over the top of the cafeteria!  This may seem strange when you first see it, but the practicality is obvious the first time you are shaken to the core as a massive B-52 rumbles overhead barely 1000 feet in the air, it’s eight jet engines drowning out every other sound.  Between those behemoths and the frequent F-16 fighter jets from Carswell Air Force Base directly across Lake Worth the average teacher lost seven minutes per class just waiting to be able to speak.  The junior high suffered no such problems.