WHY PORCH SWING STORIES?
In the summer, the front porch was the favorite place to “visitate.” It usually held three-legged chairs (that was a long time ago!) taken out of the kitchen and front room, maybe a bench, a porch swing, and always a rocker or two. The front porch, being raised a foot or two off the ground, always provided much seating. The handrails were very wide, which allowed sitting on, placing your dinner plate on, or lining up the tea bucket (a three-gallon galvanized milk bucket) with sweet iced tea to the brim, and Ozark China, (mason jars for gulping down the tea!). Listening to the katydids, the whippoorwills, the bobwhites, the crickets, and other outside night life was a welcomed and favorite pastime in the south. Of course, sweet iced tea and southern fried chicken, fried potatoes, homemade biscuits with chicken gravy and corn on the cob still comes to mind when I remember those front porch dinners, even to this day!
There are memories of kids playing hide and seek or red rover while the adults were on the front porch chewing on toothpicks and swapping stories. Sometimes the stories got out of hand. The scary stories would separate the men from the mice. If the story was scary enough, there would be a major evacuation of the front porch. Everyone just “happened” to go inside about the same time, and “somehow” ALL the lights in the house would be on! Meanwhile us kids, out in the dark and not hearing the scary story, would be left to defend ourselves from whatever sea monster or barn yard boogie man had chased the adults inside!
Another favorite porch swing memory was the family hoe-down. Everyone brought their musical instruments and joined in on the fun. The musical instruments were not always musical. Sometimes spoons, or water jugs, or other improvised percussion instruments showed up as well. Banjos, guitars, fiddles, accordion, harpsichord, and such like, were the norm. The songs included everything under the sun! If somebody thought of it, then everyone would likely join in.
The front porch was also a place of private solemn reflections for those sad times that we all faced. Those times were met with deep inward soul-searching and many changes were brought about by the porch swing “altar.” Sometimes when trouble came our way, as it did so often to each family, there was the, “let’s go outside and talk” meetings. Those stiff and sometimes painful truths that we cannot see in ourselves are presented with the painful facts that we are sadly aware of. And yes, there is a direct path from the front porch to the woodshed. Not all “woodshed” experiences involved going there. Sometimes it was the crushing weight of our actions that brought about the needed repentance. Our shame was the taskmaster, and it was our hurt to others that laid the stripes across our own hearts. I called those times the “woodsheds of the heart.” Those front porch consultations were brutal and much needed. Repentance and healing were the norm from “the front porch chapel.” No preacher could ever match the painful words spoken from a broken heart of the one who loves you so much. And no congregation was ever more attentive than a wayward youth that was seeking acceptance and direction. They were painful then; they are priceless now. Perhaps the most enjoyable front porch stories were with those “sparking their gal.” Today they call it dating. But as the couple went to the front porch to be alone, and yet seen, many a kid went into hiding! Some went under the porch, or around the corner, in the bushes, or on the porch roof, all with ears tuned in like radar. They did not want to miss a single mushy statement that could produce a blushing when repeated later (when the parents were not around of course)! Sometimes even the adults would just happen to wander outside at a very “interesting moment” when things looked like somebody needed a reality check!
The porch swing was also an escape; a place of refuge when things in the house got too lively, too fussy, or just too crowded. Or, there were times when the house just got too hot. The summer heat had a way of driving you outside to sit on the porch swing, in the shade, and feel the welcomed breeze! And, of course, sweet iced tea was always in the spring house or in the ice house, loudly calling your name! The quietness of the front porch was always a welcomed place of rest. While laundry, washtubs, dog baths, clotheslines, and water fights were all taking place off the back porch and out of sight, the front porch never lacked activities to provide family entertainment.
Even today when I drive past a house with a large front porch and a porch swing, it brings back a flood of wonderful memories. I wonder what they would say if I asked permission to enjoy their porch swing for a while? I trust these porch swing stories will somehow benefit the reader.
I know times have changed, but human nature has not. We all still need those porch swing chapels, or those wonderful memories of sparking our gal, or even those soul-searching moments that strengthen our perceptions of who we really are. But wherever we are, and no matter what we have faced, and no matter how good or bad we have done, we all need those porch swing chapel experiences, to strengthen us and encourage us to be what we wanted to be in the first place!
Taken from “Papa’s porch swing stories” Page 9.