The Old Funeral Fans
In the 50s, air conditioning had not yet reached our old stone church. By June, the funeral fans would appear tucked behind the hymnal and the Bible in the racks on the backs of each pew.
A large, standing fan hummed boldly at one side of the platform, stirring the warm, humid air and providing relief to the minister. Some windows might be slightly opened with a small sliding screen, but little cross-breeze. Our stained-glass windows featured a small rectangular window at the bottom, equipped with a crank that opened outward. The slender opening would occasionally invite a bee or a wasp that would liven up the service. 
The funeral fans were not only practical but also lovely. You had to be of a certain maturity for the privilege of holding a fan. I’ve witnessed more than one child trying to smack a sibling or to redesign its shape.
At seven, I was qualified. I recall one fan, a tri-fold, that spread open to display the Lord’s Supper. Another style, a one-piece with a flat wooden handle, displayed a beautiful scene of a floral-lined pathway leading out of sight with blue skies above. One thing they all had in common was the funeral home name and address printed clearly.
I sat to the right of Mother and used my fan to direct the air towards her. She appreciated my thoughtfulness because my little brother, Earle, was snuggled in her lap.
Today, we are blessed with central air conditioning in most places we worship, though we now carry a light sweater with us, just in case.
