I apologize ahead of time for the weird proportions of some of the photos in this post. Some of the photos are 30 years old and have been saved, re-saved, cropped, and re-cropped so I can’t get them to line up no matter what I do!)
I posted last week about our ongoing efforts to clean out the basement and I appreciate so many of you commiserating and passing on your experiences and good advice.
Steve and I have made good progress. We’ve emptied about twenty boxes, and gotten rid of over 300 books, in addition to selling/moving out several large pieces of furniture.
The hardest two pieces to sell were the table and credenza from the dining room. I’m not gonna lie–I shed a few tears over those.
The first time I opened the credenza drawer to get out silverware for a meal, I was 17 years old. Those pieces represent six decades in the Smith family, having traveled with them from Denmark to England to several states in the U.S. before ending up in Charlotte.
Here are the pieces in the background when Nathan and Meagan were meeting Gage for the first time on a Zoom call.
We sold the pieces to a young couple who love teak furniture and are going to strip the pieces and restore them to their former glory. And on a positive note, selling them opened up a lot of space in the basement.
And speaking of the basement–that place has had quite a history through the years.
Steve tells stories about the rock band he was in that practiced down there at a deafening volume. His mom and dad would sit patiently in the den trying to watch TV as their house’s very foundation vibrated. (No greater love has any parent than to host a rock band in their basement.)
Another basement memory is when our family took refuge down there when Hurricane Hugo hit in 1989, just four days after Nathan was born. Here’s a report from back in the day:
By the time the sun came up, Charlotte was covered in trees. Thousands of them lined streets, others atop power lines and some stranded people in their houses. Over 90 percent of the city’s homes didn’t have power, and some wouldn’t have any power for up to two weeks
A newborn, a mom with postpartum depression, and no power for ten days was quite the adventure. God bless Ken and Vernie for their patience and compassion during that time.
So in addition to the rock bands and the hurricane protection, there is another basement story to tell. I’m telling it now because all this time spent in the basement cleaning has brought it back to mind. (I may have written about this a long time ago but I have a lot of new readers who may not have heard it.)
that our family spent a total of fifteen years living full-time in an RV and traveling to various churches around the country doing concerts and services. We also wrote songs and recorded twelve studio albums during that chapter.
Here’s one of the recordings–back when Steve and I were un-old and non-wrinkled.
We raised both kids on the road up until Nathan was twelve and Sarah was six.
Throughout the years, we had a variety of trucks and RVs; some of them were fabulous–some of them were not. It’s a good thing that Steve was gifted with roadside repair talents because he did a lot of that over fifteen years.
This is Steve and my brother-in-law, Randy, from their “other ends.” In that particular vehicle, the engine was accessed from the inside.
The first chapter was with Steve and me and my two younger sisters who traveled with us while single.
(Bonus trivia: Before Steve and I were married, my two sisters and I traveled with our parents doing music and living in an RV. Also, Meagan and her two sisters traveled for several years with their parents living in an RV.)
This guy had a little music history, too.
After Debbie got married, she and Randy were with us for four years. When they moved on, we were joined by some friends named Dan and Lynn for 18 months and then for the remainder of our road years, it was just Steve and me and our family.
Back in the earliest permutation of our road days, we bought a rattle trap trailer and an even more rattle trap truck to pull it with. We lived in it full time which was a wee bit challenging for Steve since he was raised with two brothers and was suddenly living in cozy quarters with three women, (Just look at that patient man.)
One day, my dad read about a talent contest in Asheville, NC and the four of us decided to enter it. We placed second and won ten free hours in a recording studio.
The studio was owned by a gifted arranger/producer/engineer named Eddie Howard. (The man seated in front of me.) He is surrounded by some of the most gifted (Nashville-based) musicians you will ever hear.
We worked with Eddie (and another great producer, Doug Benson), for over 15 years. Our lives consisted of recording, traveling, raising kids, homeschooling–the whole works. It was an unusual life, to put it mildly, but it was the fulfillment of a dream I’d had since I was a young girl.
One fall afternoon in 1982, we were driving our ratty old rig down Hwy 64 in North Carolina. A semi-truck passed us going about 20 mph.m. faster than us and blew us off the road.
Our truck and trailer veered back and forth across the two lanes and Steve yelled, “Don’t hit the brakes!” (This can worsen a fishtailing trailer situation). Can you guess what I did? I slammed on the brakes! The swerving got much worse and then the trailer flipped on its side followed by the truck. Then the whole rig skidded down the highway until the trailer left the road and came to rest in a small creek below the roadway. The truck stayed on a small bridge above the creek.
Amazingly, none of us had even the smallest injury.
There is another big long story to be inserted here but the short version is that a passing driver and some friends who lived nearby spent the next six hours with us collecting all of our belongings from the stream, the woods, and the roadway as the rain fell and the night fell right along with it.
The trailer disintegrated as it turned over. In the space of just a few seconds of trauma, we suddenly became homeless; the destroyed RV lying in the river was our only home.
Well, here you go.
Back at the side of that highway, we stuffed all of our belongings into large trash bags–ketchup and hair dryers and books and socks and lipstick all jumbled together. With the help of our friends, we carted it to Steve’s parent’s house, unloading everything into their basement. We lived with them for a few weeks until we were able to purchase another home on wheels.
I distinctly remember getting dressed every day in those days following the wreck. I’d go down those same basement stairs we are still going down today and ponder fifty different trash bags filled with a mishmash of our belongings. I’d just start digging through any random bag and whatever item of clothing I happened on first is what I wore. Didn’t necessarily have to match or be appropriate; if I had something to cover myself with, I was happy.
Fortunately, our next vehicle was newer and safer, and as the years went by, we eventually ended up in this rig in 1998.
Here I am standing beside our “family car.” This is what I drove to get groceries or shop at a thrift store. It had Sarah’s car seat in the back and it’s where I homeschooled Nathan going down the road.
Trust me when I say I got a lot of second looks from fellas when I pulled into a grocery store parking lot and got a cherubic, blond toddler out of the back seat.
Although it seems like an unusual career path, I always knew it was coming. Back when I was in the 6th grade, my teacher asked us students to write down what we wanted to do when we grew up. I wrote down my usual thing (travel with my family and do music) and then for some unfathomable reason, I added, “And I also want to be a truck driver.”
You can look at the Kenworth in that picture and see that both of my dreams came true!
We have so many good memories from those road days but life comes in seasons and the thing about seasons is that they come and then they go.
We’re thankful for that season on the road but even more thankful for the season we’re in right now–living in a house full of history and living in a city with our kids and grandkids nearby.
When Steve and I are gone to heaven, I can picture our children going through our basement with their children. (Hopefully, we’ll have it cleaned up by then.)
They may pick up a special item we left behind and hold it close–inhaling the memory, remembering the lives lived, remembering the hands that held that item and held their hearts.
They will hear in the walls the sounds of Steve’s and my voices, the sound of their grandparent’s voices and, if they listen close enough, they might even hear the howl of a hurricane and a little rock and roll.
The basement will always be there–gathering memories and stories to be told for all those Smiths and Longs who are yet to come.
What about you?
If you are one of my readers who remembers hearing us in concert, leave a comment with the city and the approximate year you heard us.
If you were back in the 6th grade and your teacher asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up, what would you write? Is that what you ended up doing?
Hi Becky, this is Gloria in Asheville, NC, reconnecting after many months. The last time that we communicated was at the beginning of your move to Charlotte. I have missed your blog and am happy to see that you are still going strong!
Gloria,
I was just thinking of you the other day. Thanks for popping back in here at the blog. Blessings!
Oh, YES!!! First at Seaport Community Church in Mystic, CT and again years later at Third Baptist in North Stonington, CT! Still periodically pop in Double Dose of the Holy Ghost! Always love seeing restored antiques!
Guerrina,
Such good memories of both of those places. I LOVE CT–and it’s wonderful people. Hugs!
I was sure strolling down memory lane in this post! So thankful for those days because I got to do life with beloved family and have so many new experiences.
You guys have made amazing progress in the basement! And it is so wonderful you could sell the furniture to people who will cherish it.
I always said I wanted to marry a farmer, live in a big old farm house and have three kids. I was also interested in becoming a nurse and if all that fell through, maybe run a cat farm. (Which I suppose today would be called a cat rescue.) Instead, I married a pastor, lived in RVs for many years, had one child, never became a nurse and have only rescued a few cats over the years. It’s been a very different life than I expected thus far, but good nonetheless!
I loved your second to last paragraph where you wrote about future generations perhaps “hearing the howl of a hurricane and a little rock and roll”. Made me teary, I don’t know why exactly. Maybe because it seemed to describe life’s journey so well. A little wind, a little music and some tears and laughter thrown in along the way.
Sending love to the amazing Smiths!
Deb
Deb,
Thanks for your encouraging, wise, witty, succinct, encouraging comment.
You DID marry a farmer’s son, so that’s something. And the cats who have come into your live along the way have certainly been so well-loved. I never knew you thought about being a nurse!
Thanks for your comment about my writing in the storm/rock and roll paragraph. It’s funny how some words/stories just evoke an emotional response for no discernible reason. I like your take on it that it describes life’s journey so well with wind, music, tears, and laughter.
You’re always such an encourager.
I love to read your stories like this! I can’t imagine having to drive something that large – ever! It took me awhile to get used to driving an Expedition! You really should write a book!
What wonderful memories you have! I hope the new couple who got the furniture will have equally wonderful memories. Hurricanes, wrecks, and all that close living…whew! Y’all are amazing.
I have no idea what I wanted to be in 6th grade but I’m sure it wasn’t IT support for 30+ years 🙂 I probably wanted to be rich and have someone feed me bon bons! Yes, I was an only child.
Suzanne,
Being rich and eating bon bons? Sounds like fun to me!
And I am in absolute awe of anyone who can do IT support. Seriously. In awe.
The big vehicle really wasn’t that bad once I got used to it. I must say, I don’t miss it. I like me medium-ish Ford Edge!
Wow-what memories and what a journey. I admire your truck driving skills as I wouldn’t ever drive our trailer pulled by a jeep. I don’t think I have ever heard the “don’t brake” advice, but when I was skidding and spinning I actually could see my 10th grade driver training teacher standing there saying “steer into the skid” and I did.
In 6th grade I would have written what I said what I always did, “I want to be a mom”. Sometime during junior high I realized that maybe I needed a better answer so in high school it changed to “I want to teach preschool”. I never got to be a mom, other than stepkids who were grown when I married, but I did teach preschool for 20 years and then kindergarten for 8 years.
Patti,
Good for you to remember to steer into the skid. I’ve always heard that advice but have never done it.
Sounds like your life has been blessed with children of all varieties and ages with preschool, kindergarten and stepchildren. Glad you’ve gotten to experience all of that.
I’m not sure what I wanted to be in 6th grade, but by junior high I wanted to be a coach. I remember Hurricane Hugo. I was living just outside Atlanta and worked for GTE and our warehouse supported several GT Southeast locations including Sumter SC. I was home alone that night and remember the rain and wind all the way in Atlanta. The next day we started sending our normal trucks to SC full of cases of water instead of their normal orders. I actually still have my sweatshirt GTE made us that says “I survived Hurricane Hugo” on it (because of all the overtime & stuff generated because of it). I’m glad the table & hutch found new owners who appreciate them. I hope you find forgotten treasures as you continue going through the basement.
Sue Ellen,
It’s amazing how hard Hugo hit so far from the ocean. Sounds like you and I will never forget it! And what a blessing to send out all those cases of water; you made a difference to so many people.
Yes, we were thrilled to have that furniture sent off to such a good home; made it easier to say goodbye.
Wanting to be a coach is a fun thing!
I believe Sarah was about 3 years old when you came to the church we were going to at the time – Park Assembly (now Park Harbor) in St. Louis Park, MN. Don’t remember the year but thought it would help with Sarah’s age. So enjoyed hearing you sing – what a blessing. You remembering different things in your travels makes it even more special – after hearing tidbits through the years. Tried to remember if I had heard about the crash. Oh, my, that was hard to imagine happening. Thankful no one was hurt.
I had wanted to be a nurse when I was in high school. I was even a Candy Striper in my senior year. I think after watching a surgery film is when I decided – nah, don’t think I’ll be a nurse. Ended up working for the Billy Graham Assn. for several years.
Sharyn,
I remember Park Assembly; that would have been about 1998.
I think it’s funny that the surgery film made you change your mind about being a nurse. Better to find out before nursing school rather than after. I love the idea of nursing but don’t think I would be very good with some og the icky aspects of it.
What a joy it must have been to be part of the BGEA. Thanks for your ministry there.
I think in the 6th grade, I probably wanted to be a teacher. But that was over 55 years ago so I could be wrong. I did not become a teacher. In my senior year of high school, I took bookkeeping and loved it so I majored in accounting in college. My MBA had a finance concentration. Most of my career was spent in healthcare beginning with a rural health clinic and ending with 20 years with a health insurance company. In between I worked for a hospital, small HMO and a brief stint at the A/G headquarters in Springfield, MO.
I love Steve’s slacks in the picture of him with the band. I think my younger brother had a similar pair only his were green plaid with a green sport coat.
Glad someone bought the dining room furniture and plan to restore it.
Phyllis,
Yes, those plaid pants were really quite something, weren’t they? 🙂
It’s cool you discovered what you loved doing in high school and spent your life doing it, especially in healthcare settings. You’ve lived a full life!
I sure feel your pain on parting with that furniture. I have quite a few pieces that belonged to my grandmother and great-grandmother. My dad passed away in May, and we’re selling the house my parents lived in for over 30 years. Two things we’re having to let go are the china cabinet and the old dining room table. The table was my great-grandmother’s, and the china cabinet has belonged to my mom for around 50 years or so. Just the sound it makes when the doors are opened, or the way it smells inside, brings up all sorts of nostalgia for me, but unfortunately no one in the family has room for it. I know I’ll shed a few tears parting with both items!
Melissa,
That’s the thing. As much as we love something, if there’s no space or use for it in our lives, it makes no sense to hold on to it. But the letting go? Tough, tough, tough.
Good you can remember all that, whew! Glad its done and over.
Steve really helped us become a band with all his experience.
Nice the Lord put you together to perform his good will for your lives. Ruth
Ruth,
Yes, it was quite the adventure wasn’t it–all our time together!
Glad we were able to go on that great adventure.
Wow, Becky, I am super impressed that you drove that truck, pulling that camper, I always envisioned you guys like in a Brady Bunch RV, all decked out and singing as you drove!!! And for 12 years!!!!! And homeschooled!!! We have lived here in NC for 10 years and there are still boxes I have not unpacked, we have no basement here, but have a large, semi-finished walk up attic which we finally cleared out last year in anticipation of moving to Florida….and I cried too when we got rid of some things, like the crib and some of my mom’s furniture that I inherited, but we want to downsize …when Dave and I were first married we bought a beautiful cherry dining room set, a table that can sit 12, a china chest and a hutch from Thomasville, so many memories sitting around that dining table, I have 3 generations of dishes and crystal in the china chest and more in the hutch but lots of the houses we are looking at in Florida don’t have dining rooms anymore, especially since we are looking at smaller, newer houses and it is going to break my heart to get rid of that furniture, neither one of my kids want it, their houses are too small….I will pass the dishes and crystal along though…..and in 6th grade I wanted to be a teacher….I always wanted to be a teacher and then when I got to college, NJ was too full of teachers and jobs were scarce so I switched to journalism and always worked in my field….when my daughter was that age she wanted to either be a Dolphin trainer or a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader, she ended up being a teacher!!!!!
Dale –
I hear you on the down-sizing. We did that almost three years ago, and got rid of virtually every stick of furniture. I’m excited for you to be moving to Florida! We love to vacation there. 🙂
I am an only child, and my mom was an only child, and her mom’s siblings didn’t have kids, so my mom ended up with four sets of china, two sets of crystal, and three sets of silver. She kept trying to unload it on me, and then on my daughter – but neither of us wanted/want that stuff. We don’t “live” that way anymore. 🙁 She sold my grandmother’s and my aunts’ china/crystal/silver on eBay.
My mom finally did show up at my house with all of HER china, and said, “I don’t want this anymore. Just don’t get rid of it while I’m still alive.” So, I dutifully kept it (in the same boxes) in my under-stairs closet and sold it after she died.
All this to say – make sure your kids really want everything. 🙂
Hi Stefanie, I know what you mean about them really wanting everything!!! And you are right, they do not entertain like we did…..are you in MO, we lived inKC for many years, now live in NC and I have driven countless times across I-70….
Yes – we are in Missouri – about 30 miles west of St. Louis. I-70 is about 2 miles from our house as the crow flies. 🙂 If you’re ever through this way again, holler and I’ll meet you for coffee!
Dale,
That’s the thing about dining room furniture; there are so many family memories made around the tables through the years. That’s what makes it so hard to let go of. But downsizing definitely brings its own joy.
How cool to work in journalism; always been a job I thought would be very interesting!
I wish you would write a book about amazing journeys on the road.
Lisa,
Thank you for that encouragement–I’ve thought of that many times through the years. We had some amazing experiences.
I don’t recall ever reading about that crash! How scary! Did the semi driver stop??
Also – did you have to have a CDL to drive your “family car” to get groceries??
I’m so happy someone who loves Danish Modern design bought that furniture. I hope they send you photos when they’re done with their project. 🙂
Stefanie,
I couldn’t remember if I’d written about it or not but it was definitely a big part of our history. I think the semi driver did stop; he wasn’t really in the wrong though, because our truck would only go so fast so he wasn’t speeding a lot when he passed us. No, we didn’t need a CDL for that particular truck.
Yes, I would love to see photos of the refurbished furniture!