The Church building, and in above "banner photo" In picture I'min the back row center.

©2021, Olan L. Smith

I'm picture lower left, the boy next to me is a year older, sort of gives you feel as how small I was for my age.

The Church pervaded my life, even until today, although I don't believe in those ways, the church will always be a part of me, as it consumed so much of my life. You could say I was born into the church, not in the Catholic way, but by baptism at the age of fourteen. I was born into it by the family who gave me life. The above photo is of me in Miss Lois Polly's youth class. Our church didn't send their disruptive children into the sanctuary for the sermons; instead they had their own church after Sunday School, and Miss Polly was its minister. We would put on plays and sing for special occasions, and it was a blast. I was a very strong singer; I was that classic boy soprano whose voice rang out crystal clear through the rafters in church. Miss Polly pulled me aside after choir practice and said, "Olan, you have one of the best voices that I've had my pleasure to teach."

That didn't matter to me, as I knew my only goal in life was to play and play hard, if it didn't include fun I didn't do it. When puberty hit and my voice changed I stopped singing, it wasn't fun anymore, if I had to work at finding my new voice, I didn't seek it. I just dropped out. Like most things in life I was a surface creature, if fun tune in, not fun tune out. My voice's nearly gone now, the left vocal cord is totally paralyzed, and I know only one level and each note falls on it.

I enjoyed church very much and never missed a Sunday, so it was my goal to be one of those 90 year old people who would come forward for their reward, "Mr. Smith," they would say; "Has never missed a Sunday School Class in his life. So today we give him his '90 year Pin' of achievement." Mostly, it was because Mom dragged me to Church. That's how it works; you go because you're encouraged to go.

I'm on the right on the chair, and I don't look awake.

I'm pictured far right, forefront. 

My mother, Louise Lowry Smith, was ready for church in 1964 at our new house, and the landscaping was not finished.

In the late 1950's I asked my mother, what about all those other people around the world who were not born into Christianity, are they all going to hell?" She replied; they will be judged on the way they live their lives, but they don't have the blood of Christ covering for their sin. To me, that was a cop out. I couldn't believe my God would condemn anyone for not being in the right place at the right time. As children, we are not members of the church in my denomination; we're not born members. For us you decided for yourself when that time comes if you believed or didn't believe in the concept, and you weren't forced into it, but it was just kind of expected of you that at age twelve you would decide. I decided at that age and was baptized. Nothing earthshattering happened to me, but I got wet, and yes we were immersed. My change would come later, and it was a whopper.