Family

       The influence of the Bird Sanctuary has spread all over but the direct influence of the Bird Park's central

meaning of FAMILY is perhaps best represented by Edith Cates and her extended family. Back in the

1950's Cynthia and Betty Jo played "Hopscotch," "Mother May I," and "Simon Says" for hours on end in the

front yard. There were no personal health nor safety concerns, and the worst thing that could happen to a kid

was the switching they would get if they ignored Dad and Mom's call to supper.

      Family was the most critical element of all needs and a strong family commitment was present. On

Saturdays, the children and their playmateswould show up at Mama Edith's kitchenfor pancakes. The family

love, dedication, and devotion to the Lord Jesus was evident and sought by all around them (including back

door neighbor Bobby Wilson).

       Here we are fifty years later and I visited Edith the other day. Her two daughters are now living with

Edith and cooking, cleaning, and helping her to make her life as easy as possible. One of the daughter's sons

stopped by to pick up a shovel from Grandma and a granddaughter stopped by to do her laundry. This is the

way that the Lord intended for His family to function. Each member is dependant on one another. Rather

than reaching out to get help from someone else; they call on one another.

       One of the grandchildren is a pastor in a South Carolina church now and this reflects on the training he

received at his grandmother's feet.  Regardless of what we may think, the Lord can and will make use of

anyone who makes himself available for use. And the first place for someone to receive the training for

working for the Lord is family devotions and prayer time. Thank God for strong grandmothers, family, and

the presence of a Bird Sanctuary in all our community lives.

Reunion at Northgate Park

      On the third Sunday in October, the Norris family reunion happened aqnd one time in particular, I

remember the reunion took place at the Bird Sanctuary. The family came primarily from Johnston County

and though living in a more metropolitan area now, the cousins all mimicked the country welcome and

atmosphere.

      My great-grandfather and great-grandmother from Selma were the patriarch and matriarch of the family.

The Bakers, Littles, Gores, Sarvises, adn Johnsons all came to their reunion and renewed family ties.  The

adults sat at the shelter and in folding chairs catching up on family health and happenings. The news from last

meeting wa reviewed and updated while plans were made for the coming Christmas get together.

    Meanwhile, the kids, most of whom only saw one another twice a year, tentatively stayed in little family

cliques and talked among themselves until we started a football or softball game.  Things immediately

changed then; sides were picked and the girls--who were not allowed to play--were free to join together and

cheer for one side or the other.  Since we had only one thought--the victory--both the players and the

cheerleaders became units and worked for victory.

        No one made fun of any team error or miscue, but both teams immediately made jokes about the

opposing team's dropped passes, strikeouts, or fielding errors. For an hour or so these two teams made up

of differnt lifestyles, personalities, and daily lives, crossed all boundaries and supported only their team. We

all drew closer after the ballgame and spent the rest of the afternoon sharing and revisiting things we had

learned about one another.

       This makes me think about the great believer reunion. There are no Baptists, Methodists, Catholics,

Charismatic, nor denomination of any kind in heaven--only born again Christians. I can see us all around

discussing the things that used to separate us and celebrate and praise the Person Who joins us in this place

He has prepared for us.I am glad to be still working here for Him, but I am so looking forward to that

reunion.

Easter Egg Hunt

      For all the years I lived at Acadia Street, I remember the joys of spring and Easter.

I remember the sounds of twilling birds, chirping grasshoppers, and knee-crunching

crickets.  I remember the trees all turning green from the leaf buds.  I remember the early

wisteria and budding dogwood trees; I remember the crosses grown atop the pine branches

that would soon become pine cones. I remember the buttercups mixed throughout the

park adding color and growth from the park pine straw floor.

      More than all this, however, I remember the Duke Park Easter Egg hunt on the

Saturday before Easter Sunday. Frank Barfield, who donated the property for Northgate

Park, paid for a city wide Easter Egg hunt at the Duke Park entrance on Knox Street.  Can

you imagine the reception God gave Mr. Barfield when he reached Heaven?  His love for

God's nature and His children as well as the community where he lived were enough to

create many crowns for him when he arrived! What pleasure they must give each other!

      Saturday morning, about 8:00, while cold breathe could still be seen from the

children's mouths and noses, the egg hunt began. For about 25' no child over 3 was

allowed to harvest Easter Eggs; this area was reserved for the younger kids to get their

candy eggs. These were not really hidden, but throughout the rest of the roped off park

area, the eggs looked as if they were individually hidden.

      There were large eggs, small eggs, individually wrapped eggs, loose eggs, and

finally, the surprise egg.  Who ever found this egg got a prize, but everyone of the 500-600

kids got more than their fill of candy eggs.

      This brings to my mind all the blessings that God has out there for all His

children. Many times we have opportunities for tremendous blessings, but we don't show

up. Often times we overlook obvious blesings because we are intent on finding the prize

egg. Some people will step in and take the blessings earmarked for others; I've often

wondered if these are the eggs that make us sick from eating too many. At the end of the

day, however, all can go home with more blessings than they can carry alone--that is

if they show up, participate, and focus on the job at hand.

Tent Revival

    The talk all month had been centered on the coming tent revival. I had seen a big

tent before, but I had never actually gone to a tent revival.  I was only eight years old and

did not properly understand what was happening, but I knew I was going to singing,

shouting, and playtime with my friends.

     I had been attending Park View Baptist Church when we met on Sundays at

Barfield Youth Center with my Mom and Dad.  One of my friend's father, Pat Maisto,

sang in the choir and I looked forward to singing of any kind. I am not sure, but I think

the preacher, Mr. Lineberger, was the evangelist, but I couldn't even pronounce the word,

let along understand it. I had truly only been trained on being good, as I tried to be for

Saint Nick, the Easter Bunny, or the Tooth Fairy; so, I was ill-prepared to hear about such

things as sin and salvation.

      The tent was set up where the present auditorium is and the choir loft and pulpit

were constructed at the front and rows of chairs lined to the back of the tent.  I sat on the

front row with my friend Ricky Maisto and two of my cousins; my sister Joanne sat down

the aisle and my Dad sat on the row behind us.  In this way, my Dad could watch us from

the back while Ricky's dad could keep an evil eye on us from the choir loft.

     The furthest thing from my mind was a confrontation with God, but somewhere between

"Amazing Grace" and "Have Thine Own way, Lord", I was filled with the desire to be

near enough to God to be able to find out Who He is. I charged out at the invitation and

approached the Evangelist telling him how bad I had been and how I wanted to change.

     It was all a whirlwind after that.  I had made a public profession of faith; my mom

and dad explained what they would now expect of me; I presented myself for church

membership, and was baptized at St. Paul's Methodist Church at a baptism service within

a month.  I thought to myself then, "God waits for no one and nothing when He is ready."

     I have been much more blessed than most because I have had this experience

twice more in my life. When I was 16, I was at my cousin Eddie's church revival when

the Lord confirmed His forgiveness, and demanded I rededicate my life to Him; I could

not wait for the invitation to run to the altar, fall to my knees, and beg for the forgiveness

and blessing He promised me. My grandfather came down, introduced me and cried and

prayed with me.

      When I was about 25, the Lord met me again in Eddie's church and convicted me

of my backslidden, sinful nature and brought me once again to be baptized.  I did not need

to come to the Lord the last two times.  I wa rescued when I was eight and all my future

sins were forgiven, but I had to come forward the other two times to seal my commitment

to Him in my own mind.

Snowman

      Living across the street from the bird sanctuary had its advantages even in the

winter. The trees were bare and leaves strewn across the field.  The freezing nights would

break down the leaves and make a soft cushion all around. The low outcropping brush

were bare and all this made the "summer's softball field" smooth, large, and open.

     From time to time snow would blanket the field and make the creek look like a

mountain stream. Since this was such a smooth, large space, the Duke students would

soon take over the area and for 3-4 hours it would become their personal playground. Of

all things, because I was so young, my mom and dad wouldn't let me join in; so, I

watched them most of the day.

       The playing would begin with a snowball rolled up to begin a snowman and

before long two or three joined in pushing the ball around. By the time four or five passes

up and down the field were completed, a 4' snowball rolled by 10-12 kids formed the

base of the snowman. The second ball was started and rolled up to the base and a 3'

abdomen was jointly lifted and snow applied to complete the second layer.

       The final head portion was rolled and shaped until a neck less head was attached.

While this was being rolled up/formed, some of the others rounded up stick arms and

charred wood for eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.  The kids would all do some dancing and

cheering in homage to this man made wonder.

       The group would then splinter off to build snow forts and accumulate an arsenal

of ice snowballs.  The laughter from the ensuing snow ball fight would shatter the late

afternoon quiet and everyone seemed to have so much fun.  I could not wait to be able to

do that.  Since the snowman was so compact and massive, he would stay around for days

and days after the rest of the park snow vanished.

        This always reminded me of lessons to be retained. First, it took the entire team to

be committed to the project being completed. Without everyone doing their part as a team,

the layers would never be built nor rolled and lifted in place. Secondly, if the kids had not

taken initiative and took on new responsibilities, the face and arms would never come

together.  Third, there needs to be a celebration of the job completion so everyone will

remember what has been accomplished as a team.

        Finally, the project completion must be inegrated into the total objective. The

winning snowball team always was the one who could stand behind the tall snowman and

use him to stay upright and throw the fastest from this standing position. This always

lured the opposing team out to their eventual loss.

       We also have team projects at Park View where we work together and work

individually to achieve different parts of our overall assignment. Upon completion, we

celebrate our success and use it to work toward our one objective--Bring others to Him.

Barfield Youth Center

    Barfield Youth Center was the mecca of youngsters and pre-teens especially in the

50's and 60's. During the summer days the Department of Recreation employed Mrs.

White, Mrs. Draughn, and her son Carl from 10-12 in the mornings and from 2-5 in the

afternoon for the area youth to descend on the Bird Park under their supervision

(RIGHT). We played games throughout the park and the younger children kept Mrs.

Draughn busy with crafts and questions while the older ones played softball, kickball,

Red Rover or some make-believe game.

       As one of the older kids, I became the role model and helper who was always

called on to help keep order. I enjoyed the bossy part and the instructing the younger ones

how to participate, but was quite weak on the actually being any help part.  From the time

I was 10 until the magic age of 14, I spent most of my summer days at the Barfield Day

Camp. I loved the companionship, respect, and the worship of my co-campers.

       On Friday afternoons from 4 -6, the youth center was opened for dancing, ping

pong, shuffleboard, refreshments, and TV. Being a shy kid, I almost never danced, but

played ping pong religiously. When I did go onto the dance floor, James Tuck was

usually commanding all the girls' attention.  I automatically did not like him and never

met him nor introduced him into our group. He could really dance and often the kids

would circle around him and cheer him on. I learned another valuable lesson here.  The

Lord sends many people into our lives to effect change in ourselves. I never got to know

James, because I was jealous of him.

      Can you imagine how terrible I felt when he died of Leukemia--while he was 13!

The Lord had given me a chance to meet this fabulous kid and perhaps bring a lot of joy

to both our lives, but I was too jealous.  This kind of thing has happened to me since, but I

have always tried to make sure I took advantage of any opportunity to witness/minister

because losing this chance did affect me. Please don't let pride or jealousy prevent you

from seeking opportunities to minister to those in need, whether they admit it or not.

      When I finally got to be 15, I was able to go to the teenage youth center. Every

Monday, Friday, and Saturday from 7:00 til 10:30, the teens from Northern and Durham

High came for dancing. Some of us shy guys still played ping pong, etc. while the cool

guys sat with the girls watching TV or even dancing on the dance floor. Often I would

crowd into the sound room and request songs like I was a dancer, or I would wander

around the crowded dance floor looking for a suitable partner, but I generally could not

find one until the last dance, a slow song that signaled the evening was over. I had taken

ballroom dancing at Satterfield's Dance Studio when I was in the fifth grade, but my

partner Marsha Canada had found other cool guys by the time we were in High School

and never came to Barfield (guess she was a West Durham, EA, or Forest Hills girl). The

Youth Center, where Park View was founded, continued to attract new youth until I was

about 21 (1966), but finally all the city youth centers were closed due to racial concerns.

Barfield youth Center was replaced with a tennis court after it was burned about 1970.

      The closing of the youth centers was another lesson I learned; after the changes

begun with Martin Luther King, we find that other races are not really any different from any

others.They needed a fair opportunity at clean water, fair treatment, equal education, and

working opportunities. Most blacks have taken advantage of the opportunities given them

and have responded respectfully to others and the same God we all worship.  I am proud

to have grown up in this time and able to see the way everyone can get along together.

Picnicing at the BIrd Park

     I remember the many picnics at the Bird Sanctuary Park. Back in the 50's and

60's there were no reservations required and first come--first served was the rule. I

remember especially one time back when I was 10 or so we had our little league team

(Exchange) hot dog dinner at the Bird Sanctuary shelter. There were only 2 lights in the

park; one near the swings and one near the shelter (I guess this was so the most

mosquitoes could feed at one time, but I don't remember mosquitoes back then). My

brother remembers the foggers going through the street/park on summer evenings to

kill mosquitoes. Wonder if the residents from then have died from carcenogenic fog?

       The park with its tree outcroppings left great hiding places to see what was going

on and not to be seen (in time to help.)  Ricky Maisto and I hid in the bushes and waited for

the picnic to be spread and we could mysteriously show up.  Crawford Jobe and Bill

Griffin were on the American Legion team insterad of our team, but we always invited

them----(who was going to turn away a couple of cute kids?)  This wa a trick I

perfected early by living across the street from the park; if you could wrangle your way

into the softball game, you were guaranteed of a hot dog/hamburger supper.

     Our team, like every other one in town, played all the games at Long Meadow

Park. (The county teams played at Catsburg). Since Long Meadow was all the way over

to Liberty Street, we usually practiced on the Club Boulevard School field. No team

could practice very much except on school fields. Little League was just a way to learn

basics before being promoted to Pony League and play at Erwin Field. At the Bird Park,

however, we had a large clear area where we could chase fly balls and practice throwing

when picnics were not planned there.

       Finally, however, Barfield Youth Center at the Bird Park was getting a field of its

own. It was announced that night at the picnic that the city was putting in the Northgate

Park ball field and horseshoe pits.  We kids decided to request the field be named after our

coach, Tom Yonkers. All the team cheered and chanted for this to happen, but our parents

simply hushed us--we were just kids.

      Soon thereafter the whole naming thing was forgotten so we never got the field properly

named. I learned one valuable lesson that night at the picnic.  Anytime someone really

wants something, he or she must stand up and be ready to face the consequences. One can

never tell what one can achieve if he sets his mind to it and doesn't waver. In the same

way, any Christian can stand up for something and not waver in his convictions.  Who

knows what can be accomplished with one person's drive.