My stepfather came into my life when I was six years old. He was a mystery to me when he married my mother because I had only met him a couple of times. He wasn't new to fatherhood because he had a daughter three years older than me and that may have made the transition a little easier for both of us. I loved to pull out the "You're not my real father so you can't tell me what to do" card but it never seemed to work. Kenny loved country, oldies and country gospel music. Over the years he formed several gospel quartets that would travel and sing at different churches around the area. At one point we even had our own bus! He bought an old school bus and painted it red, white and blue, and we were set to go. The group would practice in an old building behind our house that we called "The Shop" because it used to be his father's workshop. I remember that the four singers' microphones had the foam covers on the top and each one had their own color. Hmmmm... Sound like anyone you know? The Old Ship of Zion was a song that they used to sing, and I could name dozens more of them - most of which I could still sing for you if you asked me to. :-) We visited all kinds of churches, from the quiet, staid traditional Baptist churches with nice padded pews to loud and rowdy Churches of God with mismatched folding chairs. Or the even more rowdy Assemblies of God. OK, I probably shouldn't stereotype denominations that way. Not all those Baptist churches were quiet. Some churches we played several times and the pastors came to be friends of the family. We got invited to church homecomings and I learned to love those "singings" and the feast we were invited to share. I could always count on some macaroni and cheese, deviled eggs, fried chicken and banana pudding at a homecoming "dinner on the ground." I remember the first time I got hold of some banana pudding that some misinformed soul had put pineapple in - yuck! Or the deviled eggs that had pickle relish added. I was an extremely picky eater as a kid, although you wouldn't have believed it if you had seen me then.
Although I didn't make my own decision to follow Christ until my late teens, the music of those years touched my childish soul. There were certain songs that would make me cry every single time, whether because of the words or the melody or the harmony, or some combination of all three. So many of those songs are engraved on my heart that even now I can hear just a snippet of a melody and recognize it as an old "quartet" song.
My partner in crime was my friend Vicky, whose dad sang baritone while my stepdad sang lead. We were only a year apart in age so we kept each other company during practices and trips around East Tennessee. Occasionally one of the other singers or musicians that joined the group would have a son who was "crushworthy" and we would practice our flirting at every available opportunity. Sadly, I was too shy to do much flirting and they always ended up liking Vicky and not me. That is a subject for another post though.
One of the singers that came and went and came back was named Ronnie, and he sang tenor. When I say tenor, I don't mean a high male voice - I mean a pure, clear falsetto. He was amazing! He hit notes that I can't even hit today. And then there was Bob, who sang bass. Bob looked like he would run away if someone said "Boo!" to him, which wasn't far from the truth. And I thought I was shy. He did, however, have a very cute son near my age that gave me plenty of material for my diary. There I was, fourteen years old and desperate for someone to notice me and Dale just couldn't seem to get the hint. Come to think of it, I probably wasn't hinting strongly enough to get noticed. He did once comment on how pretty I was but it never went past that.
In addition to singing gospel music, my stepdad was a huge fan so we also traveled to hear other groups sing: The Florida Boys, The Inspirations, The Kingsmen, The Happy Goodman Family, The New Gospel Ways - many of those guys actually ended up as family friends. I know that my parents used to go visit Archie Watkins of The Inspirations at his home. In his later years, my stepdad fulfilled a lifelong dream of his and got his own radio program. It was a small AM station in Knoxville and he had to purchase his own airtime, but over the years he developed quite a following. He would go on the air every Sunday evening and play the music that he loved, and people would call in or write in and request certain songs. The station was near where Jon and I lived so I would go in and visit my parents there (because my mother was there to write down what songs they played in what order and just generally help out), and my stepdad was always tickled to see me and would mention on the air that his daughter was there to visit. After his sudden death in 2003 the station held a tribute broadcast in his honor and I have a recording of it, although I haven't had the heart to listen to it yet. I also have a recording of his last broadcast and I haven't listened to that either. I love thinking that Kenny is now enjoying the wonders of the Heaven that he sang about for so many years, and that after singing God's praises here on Earth he can now praise Him face to face.
