REYNOLDS WRITER

Sunday, September 13, 2009

MAKING THE BARKER GIRLS BEHAVE

by Randy Reynolds

Up on the podium, my dad, the pastor, sat in a comfortable chair squarely between the choir director and the choir. The singers behind him clapped their hands in rhythm as they belted out, really fast and loud, Power In The Blood (or I’ll Fly Away—something like that.) The choir director in front of Dad set the pace for the singers behind him by jerking her hand rapidly from side to side like slapping a child. Off to the pastor’s right, Sister Catherine made the piano do everything but sit up and beg. The congregation joined in the clapping. Some folks raised their hands and shouted. One man felt the Spirit and danced in the aisle.

Although I usually sat in back, Dad had directed me to the left front pew that Sunday night because of what had happened in the morning services. All I had done was crawl under the bench in front of me and tie Donald Wayne Jenkin’s shoe laces together. When he tried to stand he fell to the floor and all the older boys laughed. I didn’t understand why that was such a big deal with Dad, but he ordered me to the front bench that night and warned me I’d better behave myself.

I hated the front bench. It was so boring sitting up there with the little kids like my brother, four sisters, five Barker sisters and their cousin Brenda.

Which brings us to the Barkers. If those girls turned out all right it was partly because of the Reynolds kids, or at least I'd like to think that, because we suffered a lot being their "example."

See, our religion taught that if parents “spared the rod” it would “spoil the child.” So the Reynolds kids were not spared the rod and therefore were not spoiled. The Barker girls, on the other hand, were spared the rod. When it came to child-rearing, their parents had a slightly more genteel belief system than my parents, though my dad agrees with them now. He has evolved into a kind and gentle great grandfather who thinks that no parent should ever strike a child. (Bill Cosby does a great comedy routine on how his mother changed like that. He can’t believe that the same woman who raised him doesn’t believe in whipping children anymore. I know exactly how Brother Cosby feels.)

My parents were especially concerned about controlling our behavior in the House of the Lord. If Ronda Reynolds and Brenda Barker whispered to each other while Dad was preaching, Mother reached over and whacked Ronda upside the head. This not only made Ronda pay attention to the sermon, but frightened Brenda and served as an object lesson for her parents. If Renda Reynolds and Cathy Barker giggled during service, Renda would get a couple of slaps on the leg from Mother’s open palm. This would cause Cathy’s giggling to stop, and if the Barker parents happened to notice what happened, well, so much the better; maybe it would inspire them to start controlling their own offspring in the same manner. Likewise with Ramonda Reynolds and Rhonda Barker: if Rhonda cut up in church and Ramonda was sitting nearby, Ramonda got pinched or thumped or jerked upright.

When toddlers Laurie or Mary Barker got restless in church and pitched temper tantrums like babies do, they didn’t get a spanking. But when toddler Renee Reynolds did the same, she was marched outside and spanked and her screams were audible through the windows. If that didn’t teach the Barkers how to handle their children in church, nothing would.

The true examples, the really good kids (at least in church) were Ricky Reynolds and Beth Barker. Ricky and Beth seemed so destined for each other that when their sisters played paper dolls, there was often a cutout paper daddy named Ricky and a paper mommy named Beth. But, alas, the romance never progressed beyond the paper doll stage.

On the Sunday night after the morning I tied Donald Wayne’s shoe strings together, I sat on the front bench and tried to act right, but this didn’t come easy to me. I stuck my tongue out at Ramonda, across the way. She, sitting just beyond Mother, stuck hers out at me, but Mother saw it and thought it was directed at her. She smacked Ramonda a good one. Behind me, some of the Barker girls and Reynolds girls were whispering and giggling and, up on the podium, in front of the rejoicing choir, Daddy got a stern look on his face and pointed directly at me and crooked his finger. “Come here,” he mouthed.

The summons made my heart beat faster. I was so scared I thought I was going to faint, but I had the presence of mind to point to myself, as if surprised, and mouth, “Me? Me?” Daddy nodded and motioned impatiently for me to come there right this instant.

I nudged Ricky with my elbow and whispered, “Daddy wants you.”

Ricky looked up in time to see daddy crook his finger again and motion me to come up there.

Ricky, my innocent gullible brother, a truly good boy, always obedient to his parents, scurried onto the platform, whereupon my dad reached out and grabbed him. He bent Ricky across his lap and administered a hard spanking as the choir continued to sing and the congregation clapped. Ricky’s screams were lost in the bedlam of worship.

I suppose Daddy knew the wrong boy had come forward, but when the purpose of the punishment was to set an example of how kids should be controlled in God’s house, maybe it didn’t matter who was on the receiving end.

Boy, it was dangerous to sit near those Barker girls!

Sunday, September 13, 2009

MAKING THE BARKER GIRLS BEHAVE

Sunday, August 16, 2009

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