A Sentimental Journey Back Home– Part Three

Here, in Coleridge, was the house, a parsonage, that Ann and I and Christy moved into in 1980, with a lot of help from parishoners. I remember Charles Teague saying— “he sure does have a lot of books”. He was right about that— several thousand. This was the first home in America for both Christy and when he was born in 1982, David. It was also Ann’s first home in the South. It was an adjustment— as they say. It was an excellent place to live out in the country, but it was fifteen miles to the nearest real grocery store. Now there was the local Enterprise store which was still being operated by Mr. Albright. It’s where the good ole boys would gather to chew over the latest politics etc. I remember one of the first times I went in this store, as I was about to open the screen door, I heard someone say “oh oh, hear comes the preacher, better clean up our language”. My first reaction to that in my head was “no, just be yourselves”, but then I thought “this is a good thing. They know I represent the Lord, and they are behaving as they would if Jesus showed up in the Enterprise store.” So I took it as an honor.

The church next to the parsonage is Concord UMC, and I have lots of wonderful memories of that place and the people there. I remember so well the day Christy, of blessed memory, escaped the nursery and ran out the door of the Sunday school building and down the sidewalk and straight into the back of Concord Church and came running down the aisle while I was preaching and leaped up into my armed– the sermon topic– 1 John 4– God is Love. I knew enough to stop when that happened, as she had just illustrated the sermon! Here are some nice shots of the church.

On Saturday night while I was there for the Mt. Olivet anniversary, Concord hosted a nice covered-dish supper and I got to see so many of my friends— Albrights and Coxes, and Murrays and Cravens and Reeders and Whiteheads and so many more. Here are a couple of shots of our reunion—

This next picture is of me and Roger Whitehead, my buddy who lived across the street from the parsonage, with whom I watched many Tar Heel games.

And just down the road was another of my churches— Maple Springs–

A sentimental journey would not be complete however without actually going home, so here are pictures of the two homes I grew up in, in High Point N.C. (602 West Lexington Ave) and
1309 Danbury Court. In 1970 I left High Point to go off to UNC at Chapel Hill, and then on to Boston, and then on to Durham, England, and then back here to Randolph and Guildford counties in 1980. It’s just proof that that good N.C. writer Thomas Wolfe was wrong when he said ‘You can never go home again’.

Thank you dear Christian friends from the Coleridge Charge for the many blessings you brought me and my family while we lived and served there. I look forward to our seeing each other again, if not in N.C. then in the Kingdom. God bless ye everyone!