It’s one heck of a town. It’s the quintessential American suburb- people live there for good public schools and low crime rates and the quick commute to the city. It’s also the kind of place where people get offended if someone says Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas, because everyone knows wishing someone well with a Happy Holidays! is a slippery slope leading the way straight to injecting heroin in between one’s toes and/or rampant Satanic human sacrifice.
In 1996, the Supreme Court ordered Edmond to remove the symbol of the cross from the city seal. Edmond complied, but citizens rallied and built a massive cross right on the highway, just to show Uncle Sam how the town really felt about the city seal controversy:
I don’t aim to mock this town. It’s really a great place. I spent three years living in there during college, and many of my fondest memories are set in Edmond, Oklahoma. I met some of my dearest friends in this place. I just need to give you some background on Edmond’s Christian-ness for this particular story.
In college, I worked at a little doughnut and coffee shop called Full Cup. (Full Cup spelled it doughnut instead of donut, which I think is the more correct way, but I always want to pronounce it duff-nut when it’s spelled doughnut.) It worked out well for me, because it was hard for me to get myself out of bed in the morning for class, but it was easy for me to get out of bed at 5am for work. (I guess I am extremely motivated by eight dollars an hour? Don’t tell my boss.) I could go to work, go to class, and be done with my scheduled day by 1 or 2 pm. Excellent.
Full Cup was run by a very kindly elderly fellow named Jimmy* who was loved by everyone in town. My only major beef with Jimmy is that he made us listen to only CCM at work, and while I worked for him, I heard enough Point of Grace and Chris Tomlin to make me want to drink bleach. (I have another story about Jimmy wherein he mistakes boxer shorts for basketball shorts, and proudly comes to work in his “workout clothes”. I am still recovering from the grievous things I saw that day.)
Anyway, Jimmy loved holidays. For Valentine’s Day, we sold heart shaped glazed doughnuts in plain and chocolate. For St. Patricks Day, we had shamrock doughnuts. Then came Easter. Jimmy found out our competitors were going to sell Easter egg shaped doughnuts, and found this to be blasphemous. “We will make cross shaped doughnuts!” Jimmy declared. To me, this seemed more
sacridelicious sacrilegious, what with turning the cross on which our savior suffered and died into a sugary, fried treat covered with sprinkles, but whatev. Jimmy was the boss.
I went into work on Good Friday and was shocked to find dozens of trays of doughnuts shaped like male genitalia. Here’s how it happened**:
My cheeks were burning red for the first half of my
shaft shift. Customers snickered. I was serving NSFW doughnuts at work. However, after I got over my initial embarrassment, I did enjoy yelling “I need two dozen chocolate glazed peni!” to the back room.
And now you know the storied and curious history of the relationship between the town of Edmond and the symbol of the cross.
Lauren McKinney life lesson #2: Make sure your baked goods aren’t inadvertently R-rated.
*Name has been changed. His real name is Joe.
**Yes, I spent approximately 18 minutes in Adobe Illustrator drawing penis doughnuts. Do not judge me. Also, you’re welcome.