When Agnes Clark (born 1900, now deceased) was a girl growing up in Austinville, Pennsylvania, there was a house in town called "the hat house." The hat house stood three houses west of the Oldroyd road intersection, and has long since burned. It received its name from the big, black silhouette of a hat fastened up in the gable. Of course it was actually a millinery shop (hat store), but "hat house" was good enough for the kids growing up in town. I expect its presence in a small town just goes to show how hats have always played an important part in American culture. It's not at all unusual to walk into a home today and find a huge cap collection. We talk about "wearing different hats." In my own community, when someone puts on a Sylvania Lion's Club hat it can mean only one thing --he or she is ready to sell barbecued chicken! A hat can make you a different person.
Given our love affair with hats, it isn't surprising that the 94th Aero Pursuit Squadron, one of the first all-American squadrons and the first to go into action on the western front in WW I, was founded on a hat. According to Captain Eddie Rickenbacker, "We all threw out ideas. Major Huffer, the Commanding Officer, suggested Uncle Sam's stovepipe hat with the stars and stripes for a hatband. Our flight surgeon, Lieutenant Walters from Pittsburgh, mentioned the old American custom of throwing a hat into the ring as an invitation to battle. And thus one of the world's most famous military insignias, the Hat-in-the-Ring, was born." Flying under the Hat-in-the-Ring Squadron, Rickenbacker went on to become America's Ace of Aces, downing 26 enemy aircraft, and battling in the skies with Baron Manfred Von Richthofen's Flying Circus (the Red Baron).
Quite often, when I start a big project I "throw my hat over the fence." It's a way of taking the first step of a long journey. Once you've thrown your hat over the fence, you must climb the fence (or any other obstacle) to get your hat back. Several years ago, I called a workday at our church to tear out a fifty-foot stone wall and remove the old concrete from the original church basement. At the end of the first workday the wall was gone and the original section of the church was up on jacks. My hat (and the hats of dozens of other folk) was over the fence; we had no choice but to get them back. It worked too --we've had a lot of nice socials in the completed basement.
That brings me to the story of my $60.00, genuine leather Minne Tonka hat. I've never been one to wear a hat; however, several years ago when Gloria (Mrs. Marple) and I were over in Potter County for an outing, a hat became an important part of my life. We were in a little outfitters shop and she said, "You need this hat." She put it on my head declaring that I looked like a new man --maybe even like Indiana Jones. As her plan developed, she decided that whenever I put on that hat I wouldn’t be a minister for that day. So, about three times a year I would put on my hat, jump in the car with Gloria and we would become carefree kids with no responsibilities. Since we didn't have a cell phone, we figured if something bad happened we could just wait until we got back to find out about it. So it was "hat off," and I was a minister, "hat on," and I wasn’t a minister.
Jesus, I believe, would be the first to tell us to put that special hat on for a day now and then. He said to his Apostles, "Come apart into a desert place, and rest for a while" (Mark 6:31). I know my special hat did me a world of good. So, "hats off" to the hat house! You might want to buy a special hat yourself. Then, while visiting the folk from our first church in Washington state, I gave my hat to Donny Wages, a rancher; he fit the part better than I did. As for me, you could say that "I was looking for a new hat." While at a boat show, Gloria bought me a “floater” from West Marine to wear on our Catalina Sailboat. That’s right, when I put that hat on I’m not a minister any more –yet, my friend Donny Wages still looks like a rancher when he puts on the old leather Minne Tonka. Maybe Donny’s the one who should be looking for a new hat.