In the Middle of Nowhere

I grew up in the middle of nowhere in the 1950s and 60s. We lived far from stores, doctors, and other people. We drove 10 miles through hills to the nearest town. I rode a bus 17 miles to high school. Actually, I rode much farther than 17 miles. We had to travel several roads off the beaten path to pick up students. The drive took about an hour.

Welcome to Our World

Somehow all of our out-of-state relatives found their way back to our little section of the world in south-central Kentucky every summer. We loved those two-week cousin sleepovers, meals that had to be eaten in shifts, and long walks in the country with no special destination.

My sister, cousins, and I developed tough little feet when summer arrived. We preferred bare feet over shoes. The dirt and rocks on our remote country road did not slow us down. We:

• Ran on rocks as easily as we can on today’s smooth pavement
• Picked blackberries that grew on the sides of the road
• Watched for snakes that sometimes crawled across the road
• Played games in the trees and fields around us

We could make all the noise we wanted without disturbing the neighbors.

Recreation in the Middle of Nowhere

We were surrounded by Goose Creek, Pumpkin Chapel School, and Oak Grove Baptist Church. All three played significant roles in our lives. The creek was a favorite hangout during those hot summer months. We didn’t care how we got there as long as we made it. We walked if necessary, rode our uncle’s wagon (a real thrill), or drove our car (less thrilling but faster).

The contrast in 90-plus degree temperatures out of the water to that first ice-cold plunge under the water took our breath away. Yet, we did it again and again. We:

• Stood on our hands
• Floated on our backs
• Jumped and splashed
• Looked for fish

Before we made it back home, our skin was scorching once again, but we were planning our next trip. If we tired of water-induced wrinkled skin before we left the creek, we could run back and forth across the swinging bridge that joined a relative’s farm to the main road.

Education in the Middle of Nowhere

I cried when I learned I could not join my friends in first grade at Pumpkin Chapel. Because my birthday fell a few days short of the state requirement, Mr. Gilpin, teacher for the one-room school, suggested I visit two or three days a week. I did just that and began my formal education the following year in second grade at the newly consolidated school. In addition to reading, writing, and math, Mr. Gilpin taught honor for country, respect for one another, and proper behavior whether we were in the classroom or playing outside.

Faith in the Middle of Nowhere

My family attended church every time the doors opened and encouraged others to join us. We filled our pews for Sunday morning and evening services, revival meetings, Vacation Bible Schools, and anything else going on at any given time.

The old church building was replaced shortly after my marriage. However, my mind still returns to that paint-peeling white wood frame with its:

• Bell (rung with a rope hanging just inside the church doors) that told everyone to get inside when it was time to begin
• Nails where men hung their hats
• Wood-slat seats that snagged women’s stockings (Occasionally, seat splinters found their way into legs and other body parts if people tried to scoot from one spot to another.)

Open windows and funeral home fans provided air conditioning, and people who never darkened the door of the church sometimes listened from outside. Prior to the introduction of our first piano, we learned to sing with the aid of shape-note music and a key pitch pipe tuner. I heard my first missionary story there, a tale that fanned a flame for mission work throughout my life.

Memories and More

Yes, I grew up in the middle of nowhere. Yet, it led wherever we wanted to go. Imagination took us around the world. Books fed us dreams for the future. Family taught us to set high goals. With the trees and pastures around us and God and family who loved us, we had everything we needed.

Today, many people pay huge prices to vacation in such isolated places. All I have to do is go home.

“Sing a new song to the Lord; sing his praises, all you who live in earth’s remotest corners!” (Isaiah 42:10 TLB).

*School desk image by Paul Brennan from Pixabay.