In part two of my 1986 documentary, my mom and I visit an old graveyard and then the church where my daddy was the pastor and I played piano. At the church, you will hear some TRULY deep south country singing. This is the real thing.
7 comments:
Anonymous
said...
Ohmygoodness, Steve, what a treat!
Fascinating glimpse of you, and Buna, and your family...
My family also moved often enough that there is no single home town, and I finished high school in a town we'd lived in for just two years... but those places are touchstones rich with memories and connections.
I'm so happy everyone is enjoying this series. I was tempted to comment on everything going on, but decided to just let it play as it was shot and let the viewer see what happened when I went home.
At the time, when we moved, I felt I had been shoved into a corner of the universe from which there was no escape. But, in retrospect, I'm glad we lived there. It gave me a glimpse of a world few people ever really see.
My southern accent only appears when I'm around my family -- or when Jim and I are cutting up together doing comedy. And it's not even a very good one anymore. My mom has the best accent of all.
You do a good job of capturing Buna. I am showing my friends at work (in Houston). Cool.
I graduated from Buna HS in 1981, and was good friends with your younger brother. We were photographers together on the school yearbook. (I also worked at the East Texas News in high school).
Spent a few nights at your parent's house playing D&D, and listening to the Beatles (Beatles -- an influence of you on Scott if I remember correctly, and then ultimately an influence of Scott on me). We were such radicals for Buna.
One night late, in about '82-83, I drove to Buna from College Station. I drove straight to your parent's house -- and I was to knock on Scott's bedroom window, like I would normally do. I knocked on the bedroom window so that I would not wake your parents if they were asleep.
The problem was I was evidently an unfamiliar car to the latest deputy sheriff in town, who followed me down 1004. (I had run-ins with several of them over the years.)
When I got to the house, the deputy put the spotlight on me, and thus, I felt it would be odd to walk to Scott's window and knocked on it. So, I went to the front door, and knock on the door. Your parents were still awake, and had been listening to the police scanner (you know the scanner), and had heard the deputy call in my plates, and heard my name . . . Moments after they heard my name, was when I knocked on their front door, with a spotlight on me.
Your parents were the greatest, by the way. Such friendly and welcoming people.
"Anonymous," thanks for the warm story. And yes, my parents have always been very welcoming. I wrote a song about them that appeared in our first show where I talked about how our home was always an "open door" to anyone.
Wow, I never thought I'd find a video of Antioch Church on the Intertubes. My grandmother attended Antioch for many years and I went there a few times when I would visit. The last time I was there was for her funeral in 1976 -- I think that was in the 'new church' but I can't remember for sure.
She wasn't buried at the Antioch cemetery, she was buried at the Morse Cemetery out in Gum Slough. She was Dwight Franklin's aunt (the post about him on your old site was how I found this site).
7 comments:
Ohmygoodness, Steve, what a treat!
Fascinating glimpse of you, and Buna, and your family...
My family also moved often enough that there is no single home town, and I finished high school in a town we'd lived in for just two years... but those places are touchstones rich with memories and connections.
I'm so happy everyone is enjoying this series. I was tempted to comment on everything going on, but decided to just let it play as it was shot and let the viewer see what happened when I went home.
At the time, when we moved, I felt I had been shoved into a corner of the universe from which there was no escape. But, in retrospect, I'm glad we lived there. It gave me a glimpse of a world few people ever really see.
oh. my. god.
Steve, you are just TOO CUTE! What happened? lol
I also want to know - what happened to your southern accent?
Love the family shots, the playfulness.
My southern accent only appears when I'm around my family -- or when Jim and I are cutting up together doing comedy. And it's not even a very good one anymore. My mom has the best accent of all.
You do a good job of capturing Buna. I am showing my friends at work (in Houston). Cool.
I graduated from Buna HS in 1981, and was good friends with your younger brother. We were photographers together on the school yearbook. (I also worked at the East Texas News in high school).
Spent a few nights at your parent's house playing D&D, and listening to the Beatles (Beatles -- an influence of you on Scott if I remember correctly, and then ultimately an influence of Scott on me). We were such radicals for Buna.
One night late, in about '82-83, I drove to Buna from College Station. I drove straight to your parent's house -- and I was to knock on Scott's bedroom window, like I would normally do. I knocked on the bedroom window so that I would not wake your parents if they were asleep.
The problem was I was evidently an unfamiliar car to the latest deputy sheriff in town, who followed me down 1004. (I had run-ins with several of them over the years.)
When I got to the house, the deputy put the spotlight on me, and thus, I felt it would be odd to walk to Scott's window and knocked on it. So, I went to the front door, and knock on the door. Your parents were still awake, and had been listening to the police scanner (you know the scanner), and had heard the deputy call in my plates, and heard my name . . . Moments after they heard my name, was when I knocked on their front door, with a spotlight on me.
Your parents were the greatest, by the way. Such friendly and welcoming people.
"Anonymous," thanks for the warm story. And yes, my parents have always been very welcoming. I wrote a song about them that appeared in our first show where I talked about how our home was always an "open door" to anyone.
Wow, I never thought I'd find a video of Antioch Church on the Intertubes. My grandmother attended Antioch for many years and I went there a few times when I would visit. The last time I was there was for her funeral in 1976 -- I think that was in the 'new church' but I can't remember for sure.
She wasn't buried at the Antioch cemetery, she was buried at the Morse Cemetery out in Gum Slough. She was Dwight Franklin's aunt (the post about him on your old site was how I found this site).
Bonus picture of Dwight's father, my great uncle: the Larry Bird of Gum Slough.
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