Pentecost: Wind, wind, blow on me......

Pentecost Sunday at St. A's was GORGEOUS! Many of us wore red, and there were red
paper streamers and mobiles hanging down from the ceiling. (I know, it sounds really cheap, but it looked COOL)The sermon concentrated on our priest's mom, who is an artist and a kite expert. Sermons about the Holy Spirit deal with kites pretty well. I was reminded by a memory of my dad's dad, Pawpaw, who took my brother and me out kite-flying by the Canadian River bridge one Sunday. I think he was holding the string until the kite got up into the air. Suddenly, the kite swirled in the air, then nose-dived and wrapped completely around my granddad, even wrapping around his ever-present pipe in his mouth! I THINK we all died laughing at that point.

Our singles gang wound up at the Omni Buffet despite a downpour that started just as we left church. Our driver, Officer Bob, assured us that his truck was high enough to get us safely and dryly to the Omni. Besides which,he used the valet parking, so we never even got touched by a raindrop! It was grand to visit and catch up with one another, as we've not been all together in the same place in months. Joy is a good thing.

Wild, Wooly Days in Borger

I have the COOLEST story ever from church Sunday!!!

Rick L. and his wife, Nancy, have become really good friends of mine. He is a retired teacher from Mathis, and he's probably one of the brightest Bible scholars (and EVERYTHING scholar) I've ever met. He and I were visiting yesterday after church, and, as a member of the prayer chain, he asked about the results of my Richardson trip, for which I'd asked prayer. He asked if that was my home town. I would normally answer down here that my home is "the Panhandle" because NObody knows where Borger is. But, for some reason, I said simply,"I'm from Borger". And then his jaw dropped.

His grandfather, H. C. G., was a Texas Ranger who visited Borger on two occasions in the 1920's. His first trip was to examine the books at a (the?) bank there. He heard gunfire outside, went out to check it out, and was struck in the chest by a stray bullet! He survived that trip. In 1926, he was informed of his assignment to go to Borger to clean it up, and he refused to go without the Army's help, telling his boss what a dangerous town it was. So it wasn't just the RANGERS who helped incorporate the city of Borger in 1926; it also took the ARMY. Rick said his grandfather talked about the souped-up cars he saw, parked pointing frontways out of garages all over town, ready for the gangsters to head out to escape capture or to make a hit on another gang!

Rick's grandmom couldn't handle her husband coming home all bloody so often, so she divorced him and had no more contact with him. Rick found his grandad on the internet and, when Ranger Graves was retired, living in Houston at age 90, Rick showed up on his doorstep, identified himself, and spent several hours hearing all these stories. That was the first time and last time he met his grandfather or spent time with him.

Rick said my coming from Borger might explain a lot! lol