The Old Green Porch

Many a summer of my childhood was spent at my grandparents home in rural western Kentucky.  Their little town was sustained by farming and coal.  The flat land was perfect for producing corn, soybeans, cattle and pigs.  Eventually the agronomic base lost jobs to cities with diversified economies built around commerce, industry and banking.  However, it was a very healthy town in my childhood.  So many of those once thriving businesses and store fronts are nothing but boarded up memories today.

My fondest memory of that house on the corner of 3rd & Monroe was the front porch.  Every summer my grandfather would clear the porch and give it a fresh coat of that old oil-based, green porch paint.  Once dry we would move the wicker rocker and chairs to their appropriate place as Papa would climb the ladder and hang the big, white porch swing.  To a 6-year old it seemed as though that swing was 10 ft. long!  Depending on the day that porch swing became a high speeding train, a fast moving stagecoach, or the Bat mobile.  Imagination was king.  I spent hours playing on that porch.

After baths my grandparents would let my sister and me join them on the porch in our pajamas with a bowl of popcorn.  Neighbors would drop by and “sit a spell”.   Some would sit and chat, others would stop by to say, “hey” as they finished a walk, or headed to the grocery "up town”.  My grandparents would sing old hymns, tell stories, read the paper, catch up on town news and listen to St. Louis Cardinal ballgames on that old green porch.  If my Dad was there he would get my grandmother tickled and she would just laugh.   Life together was done on that porch.

Neighbors would lean into one another.  Mutual care and concern was expressed and received.  Differing opinions were respected and laughter filled the air.  It didn’t matter whether you were Baptist, Methodist, or Pentecostal, you were welcomed and shared faith was celebrated.  Problems of the world were solved and communal care was expressed for families battling tough times.

I miss that old porch.  It was a slower and simpler way of life.  People actually looked one another in the eye and talked to each other.  No cell phones, laptops, iPads, earbuds, or texting.  People listened to each other.  Fast forward 40 years and everyone would be on the porch with laptops posting to FaceBook, texting, or tweeting.  I get and appreciate the progress we’ve made since then, but I long for those days when life was slower and people took the time to experience life together.

We need more front porches.  We’ve got tons of hidden decks and patios behind fences in back yards, but we’re missing our porches.  Maybe we would slow down, listen to one another and share our lives. Whenever life gets crazy, I close my eyes and go back to that old green porch.