PLATFORM SHOES AND COTTON PICKERS
“They are,” I agreed, my mind churning the thoughts over, and added, “But then again we’re softer than the generation before us.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” my oldest brother agreed.
“I guess we did alright though, we came around,” I mumbled while pondering aloud the next generation directly behind us in God’s chronological time line.
My big brother and I know good and well that as strong or tough as we might think we are, we don’t hold a candle to our predecessors. A lot of that has to do with where we come from and bloodlines we hail from.
I’m also keenly aware of the fact that my big brothers had it light years harder than I did… one of the few perks that come with being the youngest I can assure you.
My brothers were years nearer to the days of my dad and his family hailing from the struggling south. They were closer to the days of their family’s bloody hands and knuckles from draggin’ sacks and pickin’ cotton by hand.
It’s hard to imagine how my dad kept his mouth shut when I was coming of age. As I look back on my teenage years, I realize there is zero chance that I would have been able to bite my tongue the way my dad did.
I wasn’t as concerned with survival as the generation before me. I was more concerned with being cool… While we didn’t have much, I didn’t have to pick cotton. Not only that, but my parents didn’t make me quit school to help put beans on the table like my dad did either. It’s hard for a youngster that doesn’t have to struggle through things like that to consider those kinds of notions…
No sir, we had different priorities in my generation. We had more important issues to dwell and stress over. We had things like platform shoes to consider… When I graduated from eighth grade I proudly sported my platform shoes, the ever-popular leisure suit, and of course the long hair slung over to one side of my face so that it cooly covered my right eye.
While my dad was able to keep a lid on his opinion, my brothers were another matter. If their tongues were swords, I’d have bled out before they ran me through the heart.
At the age I was at the time when platforms and leisure suits ruled the day, I couldn’t have been but a few years older than the age my dad had been when he had to go to school… with no shoes at all…
I was a different person some decades later, just a couple of years before God called my dad home to Him. I cherish the conversation we had when my dad told me that he guessed he was one of the last walking cotton pickers. I suppose he was… and I’m proud of him for that, but I’m prouder for the life of honor that my dad strived for and lived. If I’d been a man with the same messed up priorities that saddled me as a kid, my dad wouldn’t have wasted his breath and heart to share something so intimate.
I think about things like that when I consider the next generation. If a person like me could allow God to wrestle away my crown of foolishness with my free will, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance He will the ones who follow in our footsteps too.
Chuck Allen
Sunday, January 11, 2015 @ 8:11 pm
I agree with you that the older generations had it so much tougher than us. I’m not sure I would have survived back then. But then, I guess we do what we have to. Great story, Floyd!
Sharon
Monday, January 12, 2015 @ 2:15 pm
Oh Floyd – I loved this. On so many levels. First of all, those platform shoes are stylin’ (are those yours??) I can remember those days. For me it was clunky shoes, mini-skirts, and endless angst over my curly hair (when straight was *in*), silver braces and headgear, and pimples. Of course, I also agonized over my lack of popularity and why the boys didn’t like me – (maybe the braces and pimples had something to do with that??). Sigh. I am also glad that I’ve outgrown all that…mostly. Now I *angst* over other stuff! 🙂
I like your take on the next generation. It’s hopeful. And that inspires me to pray for them with hope, too. Sometimes I worry about their sense of entitlement, the lack of true communication and connection that does NOT happen on social media, and their focus on money and fame. But then I meet others who are sincerely concerned for the state of the world, and many that follow Jesus wholeheartedly. Might the Lord reach others for Him and His Kingdom purposes.
I am grateful that my sons are good people, believers. And I have to say, I think a lot of that happened because they had a very close relationship with my own parents. Those good values got passed on, and for that I am grateful. Praying that I am a good role model to them, too, as I grow older.
Let the SONshine in!
child of God
Monday, January 12, 2015 @ 3:26 pm
The older generation were tough. It is pretty amazing what we can do when we are pushed to the limits to survive.
I had a neighbour tell me a story about a prairie lady who was pregnant and expecting right during the harvest season. Her husband had about 30 workers bringing in the wheat and she had to prepare and serve breakfast and dinner to the group. As the story goes, she served breakfast, cleaned up went into labour, prepared dinner and served the men, then in the night delivered twins. The food prep and serving continued for over 2 weeks and when the crop was down and in her husband noticed that they had two additions to the family. Talk about tough! I’m sure your dad is of that generation or maybe his parents were.
Great story Floyd, I loved every word of it!
Betty Draper
Monday, January 12, 2015 @ 7:12 pm
Great story brother. I’m with you on this one. Older missionaries tend to look at the generation of those heading to the mission field today and wonder if they will make it because of the soft life they have had. I tend to think some of us older ones would not have went at all if we had had a soft life. It is God who never changes, He still works the same way, through the heart, not through living conditions. I have met too many young ones who live in dangerous place for the sake of the gospel, who sacrifice just as much as they did 50 to 100 years ago. Today we met with two single gals, tough, sweet, loving, sold out to the Lord young women of God in 2015. One was home from Indonesia, the other sister leaves this Friday for Africa. I have a special place in my heart for these single gals. They will face some harder times because of not having a husband to stand beside them, to help carry the load. It’s God that helps us have tough hide so our hearts will be soft, soft enough to be broken for the lost and willing to give all to see others saved. Now that’s tough…
Hazel Moon
Monday, January 12, 2015 @ 7:56 pm
I bet you were really cool decked out as you were. Style has a lot to do with how people dress and act. Somewhere around Junior High, I got my first pair of high heels, and had to learn to walk with them. In high school, I remember the boys had a hair style called the “Hollywood.” You probably remember how they combed the hair both ways in the back toward the middle. Not all the boys were that stylish, but my boyfriend Lee Roy was one of them. He disappeared from my life around age sweet sixteen or seventeen. Oh such memories. Our youth of today have some weird styles, and we wonder what the next generation will be like. Thanks you so very much for allowing your post at “Tell Me a True Story.”
Cheryl Smith
Monday, January 12, 2015 @ 9:05 pm
I love this post. It makes me long for my Mom and Dad’s generation. I know they had it a lot harder than we do, but they were made stronger for it. I really love the last part you wrote about this younger generation that is following ours. I suppose our parents and those before us looked at us the same way we look at them. A lot of it is a maturing process, I suppose, and hopefully, they will outgrow some (or all) of the undesirable mindset they now exhibit, just like we outgrew ours. Time will tell! God bless you and keep you in His care!
Loren Pinilis
Tuesday, January 13, 2015 @ 7:13 am
It’s humbling when I think of the adversity that my predecessors have overcome, and how plush and easy my life is by comparison. I hope that these gray hairs starting to grow in now will bring a little wisdom and appreciation. And yes, my mind, just like yours, draws up to the next generation – and I think of what I need to do to raise my kids well. Not necessarily with adversity, but with the capacity to handle it.
saleslady371
Tuesday, January 13, 2015 @ 10:05 am
This story tugs at my heart and makes me want to look back with thankfulness for all the suffering endured in my past generation as well. I blush too when I think of my former foolishness in the light of my parents’ strength from enduring the hard life. Wonderful story and I can feel your grateful heart!
Lisa notes...
Tuesday, January 13, 2015 @ 1:03 pm
I remember the year my dad bought more land to plant a bigger garden on. We had to help out in it and then sell the produce. Thankfully that venture didn’t last long! ha. I know I definitely had it easier than many people, and my kids had it even easier than me. What’s next?
Those shoes kill me. ha. Thanks for the memories, Floyd.
Joanne Norton
Tuesday, January 13, 2015 @ 5:06 pm
Yes, generations are changing significantly. I’m very concerned sometimes re: what people are saying and doing in our present-day world. For instance, some of the most serious sinfulness I was doing in the mid ’60s, before the Lord broke in, and I knew what I was doing was sinful, b/c it was shared in our nation then, I seriously considered suicide, b/c I couldn’t stop doing what I was doing b/c people were “using” me. NOW, the majority of the people think all of those things I was doing are just fine. Even some of the churches don’t consider those things sinful and other pieces connected to my family then were considered sins and not OK are now part of what is acceptable and rejoicing over the events. I’m heartbroken by much of this, Brother. I sure understand different generations dealing with different situations. I think you know what I’m referring to in myself. If you ever wonder, I’ll tell you bluntly. I trust you.
Sorry to yammer so long, but you grabbed me again. Sure would love to meet your dad when I’m in heaven! 😉
TC Avey
Wednesday, January 14, 2015 @ 9:41 am
Great post!
I thought of my own dad as I read it and several verses from Proverbs came to my mind as I read it.
Wise people really do hold their tongues. My blabbering mouth conveys my lack of wisdom and self imposed “wisdom” I think I have.
I’m slowly learning that not everything I think or know needs to be shared.
David Rupert
Wednesday, January 14, 2015 @ 2:02 pm
A great story and as always, a perfect application.
It’s amazing how each generation changes. But I do remember the sweat and hard work of the previous two generations in my family and am grateful for their sacrifices. They worked hard. They worshiped pure. they loved unconditionally.
Dan Black
Wednesday, January 14, 2015 @ 10:51 pm
I love the last sentence, Floyd. God has a powerful way of making the foolish, wise.
Jennifer Dougan
Thursday, January 15, 2015 @ 7:14 pm
Hi Floyd,
I love the hard work ethic of the generations behind us, and strive for that in my own life, but know I fall short. They are neat role models, huh?
Where’s the b&w photo from? Your family?
Jennifer Dougan
http://www.jenniferdougan.com
Caleb Suko
Saturday, January 17, 2015 @ 6:45 am
Thanks for this perspective Floyd, it really speaks to me right now as I struggle to raise my children and to understand their unique perspective on life. One thing I’ve noticed is that priorities can change in an instant. Take away everything we think are “necessities of life” and a person will lose his desire to be “cool” very quickly. I’ve seen it happen here in Ukraine.
June
Monday, January 19, 2015 @ 7:40 am
I enjoy your posts about your dad. Your stories reveal so much about him and what he taught you. I think he was wise enough to know that voicing his displeasure or scorn of your teenage antics would not produce the man he hoped you would be. The man you’ve become. Instead, he taught you without words (although I’m sure there were some!) what integrity and honor was all about. At least, that’s what your stories tell me. Blessings.