Black Tie and Tails

I was looking through my pictures from Mick and Susan's wedding the other day and admiring my family, when looking at Mick in his tux took my mind back to my days as a "preacher's kid," or a PK.

When I remember my father as a minister in a small town, I see him at the pulpit dressed in his swallow- tail coat, black pants, white shirt and black tie. Why the black tie and tails? That's what he was expected to wear as a minister. Preachers of the gospel were expected to look and act differently, and better, than congregation members.

My father had four churches to preach in; one of them a small rural church and the other three in towns. This was his circuit. He was in Tawas for early service, East Tawas (where we lived) for regular service, and Wilbur (country) twice a month instead of Tawas. At night he went to Oscoda. He wore his formal outfit for all Sunday services. Midweek he had services in Wilbur and East Tawas and wore a regular suit.

This type of formal garb was so common for ministers that a traveling salesman would come to our parsonage occasionally to measure Dad for a new set of clothes. Needless to say, with a big family and a small salary this only happened when necessary and after long conversations between Mom and Dad. We all watched Dad get measured and waited excitedly for the new outfit to arrive.

I also remember Dad's white shirts with button-on collars. Both the shirts and collars were starched, and my sisters and I learned at an early age how to starch and iron them. Those were the days that all sheets and pillowcases were ironed, as well as Dad's handkerchiefs. We would put a folded sheet on the ironing board and iron handkerchiefs and pillow cases. Then the sheet would get refolded and turned and we would go on to underwear , table cloths, blouses and dresses (also often starched), and finally Dad's white shirts and starched collars; turning the sheets and replacing them as we ironed. Oh, how I hated those starched shirts and collars!

If you've heard of turning collars, it came from button-on collars that were taken apart and turned so the frayed edges were under the collar when worn, then sewn back together.

The summer I graduated from college, I drove out West with my folks and visited my oldest sister in Phoenix. My folks went on to San Diego to see my oldest brother when his ship came into port. This was after WWII and he had moved from Great Lakes to ocean sailing when he left the Merchant Marine. My sister was a nurse, and you know what nurses wore then? Right. White starched cotton uniforms. My job was to starch and iron them for my sister. No wonder she was so glad to see me!

I will always insist that permanent press was the greatest invention after the wheel.