2018-09-04 Cincinnati
The Daughter of PKs
My Mom’s father was an Episcopal priest; my Dad’s father, a Presbyterian minister. Each of them called themselves – and each other – “PK” for “preacher’s kid.”
Each of them was also the kid of a preacher’s wife. But they didn’t call themselves – or each other – “PWK” or in any other way allude to that similarity in their upbringing.
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My father died a year and a half ago, and I love thinking of my 94-year-old mother still singing this, substituting “Howard Wells” for “Billy Ray.”
Son of a Preacher Man
Billy Ray was a preacher’s son
And when his daddy would visit he’d come along
When they gathered around and started talkin’
That’s when Billy would take me walkin’
Out through the back yard we’d go walkin’
Then he’d look into my eyes
Lord knows, to my surprise
The only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacher man
The only boy who could ever teach me
Was the son of a preacher man
Yes he was, he was, ooh, yes he was
Bein’ good isn’t always easy
No matter how hard I try
When he started sweet-talkin’ to me
He’d come’n tell me “Everything is all right”
He’d kiss and tell me “Everything is all right”
Can I get away again tonight?
The only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacher man
The only boy who could ever teach me
Was the…
VicWulsin 