This is purely a memory archive post. I am sending the link to family members, so anyone else that is reading this – feel free to skip today. 🙂
Lloyd’s grandma passed away last week, and we were in Missouri for the funeral. His parents have lived south of Jefferson City for forever, and in all the times we’ve been there to visit, we’ve never driven home through California, Missouri, even though it’s just about half an hour west.
My grandfather, Martin F. Hofman, was the pastor in California from 1969-1979. He and Grandmother lived in the parsonage across from the church, and my family would drive to visit them once a summer.
I think.
That is the point of the visit, and also of this post. I have such a terrible memory, I thought it would be neat to see the inside of the parsonage and the education center. (The old church was torn down and replaced with a new building back in the 80’s. I think.) According to the math, we would have stopped visiting when I was around 9.
I don’t know how many times we visited, but I think it’s all mashed up into one memory. What I remember about the place was:
* The t.v. room. It had a laundry basket with toys, and our favorite toy was a big Wiffleball bat that we’d use to play Captain Caveman.
* The kitchen. One evening all the grownups were sitting around eating watermelon and putting salt on it. I could not fathom the grossness. Oh, and I think the refrigerator had a freezer on the bottom.
* Grandmother and Grandfather’s bedroom had a short pew in it, and when a little one came to sleep (Me? Cousin Daniel?), they would turn it to the wall and make a crib. I thought that was amazing.
* The sheer wall of humidity when you would step outside of the house. Colorado is so dry, and I remember not being able to catch my breath because the air was so wet. I knew there was a pool nearby, because we could smell it.
* There was a pool table at the education center/church, and we would go to play there.
Ok. Those are the memories. Here’s the family with the grandparents: Left to right, it’s me, Phil, Grandfather, Mark, Grandmother and Keren.
Here’s me, this past Monday:
Same house! Thank you, Google earth, for making this whole thing possible:
I looked for a shiny pool when I was digging around, but they have enclosed it. It’s the big building on the bottom left. The church and parsonage are top middle.
Ok, now for the weird part. I looked on Google and the parsonage is now a child care center. This will sound very, very mean, so please forgive me if I come off wrong. I teach preschool and work in child care. Our center has taken great pains to be a warm, inviting, home-like atmosphere. (Here’s a link if you want to look around.) Warm colors – lots of textures – bringing nature inside – that matters to me. This place was not that. It was clean, it smelled nice, it looked like they were adhering to licensing standards, but that’s it. I cannot stand the colors on the walls or anything else. Here endeth the rant.
Ok, here’s the house. Family, I’ll give basic directions.
Front entry, looking back to the door:
Living room to the left as you walk in the front door. Was that door to the garage always there? I thought there was a piano there.
Front living room wall:
Dining room:
Kitchen view one:
Kitchen view two: Does this look pretty much the same?
They turned the garage into a classroom. I do not like this room.
The bathroom:
And most importantly, the t.v. room. Ignore the cubbies and art supplies. I was SHOCKED at how tiny the room was!! Also, there was a door to the entry and a door to the hallway. Was it always like that?
This is the back …. bedroom? Did they use it as an office? I have no memory of this room.
And then there was their bedroom. It is the infant/toddler room now. They put a sink in the closet. Oh, the barfy colors.
There is a bathroom in the back corner and I remember that it was there, but I don’t know if I ever went in there as a kid.
The visit to the house was short, and then I walked over to see the church. The doors to the education center looked the same, but when I walked in I was stopped short by the smell. It smelled just the same as it did when we were little. I got a little teary.
I remember these stairs, but really, nothing else:
The fellowship hall and classrooms all looked like regular church rooms, but I bet this phone was original:
Alright, thanks for indulging me. Have a great day, unless you have the answer to one of those questions. In that case, cough it up. 😉
Brad says
Every once in a while I think about how old buildings are and how little they change over time. When I jury-rig something with a scrap of wood, how long will it stay like that? Will someone who owns my house a hundred years from now wonder what the heck I was thinking when I used a shim instead of a two-by-four?
Lauren's mom says
Hm-m-m…About all that looks familiar is the kitchen. I remember that Grandmother Hofman always made fried chicken for us (the best ever!) and I made the potatoes. Then we would sit around the table in the dining room and eat and talk, while you kids played. The rest of it is strange to look at. But then it was forty-some years ago!
Lauren's dad says
Your memory is amazing, Lauren. I don’t remember the inside of the house!
The short pew was the sofa, not quite as long as a love seat, that Granddad made out of Brazilian cedar boards. He also made a matching seat. Put together with screws, they were disassembled, packed in shipping crates, and reassembled in the States. They now are in your aunt Ruth’s basement.