The First Christian Church was only a few blocks from our house. It was a small, typical Protestant Church. It had one special doctrine: any member of any church who believed in Christ was automatically accepted as a member of the First Christian Church. A small church in a small town, it had only a few hundred regular members. My parents weren’t regular churchgoers; I really believe it was because my father was too proud—he didn’t have money to pay the usual monthly sum to support the pastor. But we did go to church on Easter and on a number of special occasions during the year. One thing I came to enjoy was the church music—the simplicity of the hymns and the sincerity of all who sang them. I enjoyed singing along with the others

Well, there was an old-time family grocer in Sayre by the name of J.W. Ivester, the type of person who helps make this world a nice place. He trusted and respected Daddy as a friend. He let Daddy (and quite a few others) run up grocery bills (Daddy’s was about $20 a month for year after year). Daddy bought the bare minimum, nothing extravagant, and of course eventually paid in full. J.W. Ivester saw our family through the Depression.

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