Front Porches

While driving down a familiar road, the scenery change alerted us that we hadn’t been on that road in months and the place had changed in a slow hurry. Years ago there was a gate across the entrance to the land marked for development. It was easy to see the outline of planned streets. Off the paved road stood a tree my father always pointed out because it was significant to him.

Many people migrated to Georgia from New Prospect, SC, and brought the name with them.

He said the tree stood in the yard of New Prospect School. There is nothing left of the school, but that is where my father saw his first basketball game.

“When was that?” I asked. He was born in 1908, and it was before his father bought their first car sometime in the 1920’s. “We were on our way to Old Campbellton in the Studebaker wagon.”

“They just had a metal hoop nailed to a post, but it worked,” he recalled. Later he was principal and basketball coach of Coosa School west of Rome, GA. All their games were played outside but with improved goals.

Across the county road there was New Prospect Baptist Church, long gone. The only artifact is the cemetery, now known as the Griffith-Giles Cemetery.

Back in the present, we drove down the landscaped streets of upwardly modest homes until the Kansas Woman asked me what was missing?

It was porches, front porches.

A lot of living took place on the front porch. The front porch became an outdoor bedroom on hot nights. They hauled out the corn shuck mattresses and hoped for a breeze through the screen.

Young men came calling at the front steps and pitched their best selves. Dates were easy to monitor when they were confined to the front porch swing.

In the summer folks rocked with newspapers spread in their laps. The newspaper held piles of peas or beans to be shelled, corn to be shucked, cut. The strings, hulls and cobs were dumped to the waiting chickens. The peas, beans and corn were processed in jars.

The front porch served as a parlor when summer guests came calling. Guests spent Sunday afternoons sipping cold well water and catching up. Air was moved by funeral home fans.

The front porch was sometimes a hot weather dining room, a place for birthday parties and board games. It became the playground during rainy weather.

I can’t think of any reason not to have a screened front porch. They expand the living space.

Instead, people moved to the back yard, and that is where their informal living takes place.

A friend has a back porch, but it’s not called that. Built in deep shade, it is an extension of the house. There is a pizza oven, two grills, a ceiling fan, a small refrigerator, two couches, big stuffed chairs and television out there.

There are curtains for privacy, when it is desired, the only thing missing is walls.

joenphillips@yahoo.com