15 minutes of shame...err, umm, fame.

When I was in the 2nd grade, my mother started taking us children to Hillcrest Heights Baptist church. We would wake up every Sunday morning fussing and fighting, board the bus and off we went. My mother always sat in the 2nd row on the left side of the church (right side if you were standing up in the pulpit.) My brother Stephen would go to the nursery and my sister, brother and I would sit with my mother.

In 1971 National Geographic was putting a book together called "Great Religions of the World". They sent photographers around the world taking pictures of different ways people worshiped. These photos would usually go along with a story but some, like the one above, just had a caption underneath.

Now usually on Sunday mornings, at some point during the service, I would get grumpy. I'm talkin' pain in the ass grumpy. Usually I'd end up in tears. I honestly can't remember why. Maybe I was tired, hungry or simply bored. No matter what the reason, the devil made sure my mom didn't have a peaceful Sunday at church. Guess who came to visit and take photos one day when I had my tail in a snit? You guessed it, good old National Geographic.

There I am, standing in front of my mother, pouting while she tried to sing a hymn. I was ticked off about something. The National Geographic photographer made sure my family had something to talk about for years to come. I was a miserable, unhappy child alot of the time. My tantrums were well known by family and friends. And now they had proof in living color.

My brother Tommy is standing next to my mom, scratching his head and trying to follow along. If you look real close to the right, you will see my sisters arm. The photo is actually in color but I scanned this picture when I was in Arkansas on my mothers old broken down scanner. I have since purchased two copies of the book on Amazon. They sent my mother an enlarged, framed photo of the day and until recently, it hung in her livingroom.

Seeing that picture brings back alot of memories. Some I'd like to forget. But I'd like to thank my mother for taking me to church, even when I was being a little stinker. It's the best thing she ever did for us.