An Easter Long Ago

Gerrie and I helped with our church’s community egg hunt yesterday. It is no small affair. The church reserves a nice large area of a nearby park and at around 7:30 in the morning three large trucks arrive carrying food and beverage, staging and sound equipment, decorations and 55,000 eggs. In terms of egg count, it is the largest community egg hunt in the city.

During the break between egg gatherings (you can’t call it a hunt as the eggs are spread very visibly in a large valley), we were setting on a picnic bench and the thought of an earlier Easter came to mind. An Easter with a special basket and a prize.

I spent some of my early years in Paducah, Kentucky. Our family lived in a modest house at the corner of North 31st Street and Madison Street. Just across the street was a railroad berm where freight trains would pass. A block to the east was Carson Park where the McCracken County Fair is held. I remember seeing the glow of the ride lights from my backyard. I also remember a harness racing course in the park. I remember the smell of hickory smoke coming from an old bar-b-q joint down on Park Avenue. There was an amusement park in Noble Park back then. It was an amusement park complete with a haunted house, tike sized cars and boats, bumper cars, a Tilt-o-Whirl and, a train.

I learned a lot of things living there. I learned how to ride a bike and that turtles die. I learned you can dig some really neat tunnels in mounds of dirt piled up from new construction. I learned what Lego was. I learned that I didn’t like to fight. I learned that some people who didn’t like us, were trying to point rockets at us from an island called Cuba; rockets that could kill me and a lot of my friends. I learned that if a President goes to Dallas they get killed. I learned that the bump in my momma’s belly was my baby sister.

What I had trouble figuring out was how my dad could beat me in a foot race around the house, when I never saw him run pass me.

While we lived in Paducah I went to two elementary schools. I attended first grade at Clark Elementary.  I went to second grade at Concord Heights Elementary when our family moved a little further west. I can’t recall which school it was, the latter I think, that I was attending one Easter when the teacher decided to have an Easter Egg Basket Decorating Contest. The class Easter outing would be at Noble Park and the winner of the competition would get a prize.

I always felt myself pretty handy with a crayon back then. Still do for that matter. But my mom was an artist. Supply her with a shoebox and crape paper, and with enough tape and paste she’d create a masterpiece. And she did! 

The day of the hunt and basket competition arrived. The class was in a picnic pavilion for lunch while the eggs were being hidden; not too hidden though. Before the hunt could begin the baskets had to be displayed and judged. The tension was thick. Other mother’s could be just as creative as my mom. But, not this day! No, this day belonged to me and my beautiful green and yellow crape paper covered shoebox. The prize was mine and I proudly accepted, on behalf of my mom and myself, a very generous chocolate Easter bunny! This was going to be a joy to devour. With the judging complete, it was time for the kids to get their baskets and move to the serious business of egg gathering. I stored my prize in the trunk of the car.

Did I forget to mention that it was hot that day?

As I said earlier, I learned a lot living there. It must not have been too long after the hunt that I learned what effects the sun and warm temperatures can have on a chocolate Easter bunny. It changes into a big blob of brown goo. It melts. It dies! 

Most likely I was a little unhappy. I talked to my mom about it last night. She remembered the Easter basket but not the melted bunny. She was an adult, she forgot about it and moved on. I think that if the bunny had survived I would have forgotten about it too in time. But traumatic events tend to linger in our memories.

Sitting there with my wife yesterday afternoon, taking a break from the sunburn I was trying to achieve on my forehead, I thought about that Spring of 1964. Looking out at the valley, we watched as hundreds of kids found their place along the line of pennant flags, just waiting for the 12:30 hunt to begin. Seeing their excitement, I remembered when I would sprint for eggs. Then, we didn’t use plastic candy-filled eggs. Ours would have been hard-boiled eggs dipped in Paas Egg Coloring. 

Before the hunt started, I went to coach my nephew on egg gathering. Walking down the hill, I thought about the prize winning Easter basket my mom had made for me. I also took a quick look around to make sure that no little 2nd grader left a chocolate Easter bunny setting in then sun.

Happy Easter. 

Christ the Lord has Risen today!

Greg

P.s. I finally figured out the foot race thing.