I've decided that I want to post random memories once in a while. Maybe once a week. We'll see how it works out. The focus of this particular RMOTW is the fact that my childhood was not like most of my peers. A surprising number of them grew up in one town their entire life. They didn't live in cities, or move or…

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Setting: some time in 1982 (summer?)

I'm five years old, and I don't get the whole religion thing quite yet. I understand the Jesus and God parts well enough, but the when do we go to church part is more iffy, especially since my parents are only occasional church goers.

Tonight we're going to church, though. And hey, so are Georgie and Eric! They're my best friends, and have been since I was three and they were four and two. Since as I said religion is still iffy, it doesn't strike me as odd that we're going to the same church. I'm not really aware yet that they're catholic, and we're not. The church isn't too far, so we walk there with our parents. I like the pastor, since he helps people push their cars when they get stuck in the snow. He smiles when people arrive.

Georgie, Eric and I, along with a few other neighborhood kids (I think Cal and Jonathan were there too) go do a bible-based craft activity. The grown ups sing hymns. Later, we rejoin them and sing some too, although it's not easy to read the words in the hymnals, even if I can read well for a five-year-old.

Later on we all go home.

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I was in my twenties before I connected this memory to what really happened that night. You see, my mother has a T-Shirt still that boldly proclaims "I survived the Lawrence Riots of 1982."  Apparently one night the cops and some gangs got involved in a huge shootout that ranged all over the city. I can't find much about it on google, but I've read the papers my parents kept from back then, and it seemed like a pretty big deal at the time.

People in our neighborhood went to church that night because of one of a church's most basic functions: sanctuary. The adults thought that no matter what, the gangs would avoid churches, given a lot of the gang members are church goers themselves.

Clearly, the adults were right. The thing that strikes me now, though, is that they were all so calm. None of us had any idea what was going on, which is probably a blessing. It's hard to think of remaining calm in that sort of situation, never mind singing. I think they deserve a lot of credit.

There you have it, a random memory from my childhood.