I've always wanted to tell this story. It's something I have wanted to share for a long time, but it was never safe to do so till now. This happened one hot summer Sunday afternoon in 1983.
My parent's pastor was a burly, hulking man of 6'3" with a booming voice and a firm handshake. Each Sunday he thundered out dire warnings of God's coming wrath for sinners. I tried to ignore him as best as I could, but he still scared me. I was pretty sure that I would wake up one day, see the clouds part for Jesus' return, watch the ground slowly open up and then I'd tumble right into the Hell the pastor so vividly described.
The pastor's wife was nearly as intimidating as her husband. She was a tall woman - six feet to be exact - about 40 years old, with red, curly hair, a low husky voice, an assertive manner and in two years she had managed to alienate nearly everyone in the congregation...except my parents.
The interesting portion of this story takes place on a Sunday after my parents had treated the pastor and his wife to lunch in town. After all the plates were cleared from the table and the bill settled, the adults were saying their goodbyes when out of the blue the pastor invited me to come home with him for the afternoon and said that he would show me his library.
Now I have always taken an interest in books and spending another lazy afternoon at my home didn't sound like nearly as much fun as spending an afternoon browsing books in someone else's library. What a treat; what an honor! So, I readily agreed, said "see you tonight" to my parents and climbed into the back of the pastor's car.
When we arrived at the pastor's home, he, his wife and I went inside to get out of the heat. As promised, the pastor allowed me free roam of his library and I picked a book on the Revelation of St. John. He nodded his approval and I left the library to sit in the living room while he worked on his Sunday night sermon.
His wife had disappeared after we entered the home, but after about fifteen minutes she came into the living room and asked if I would like a drink. When I politely said, no thank you, she let me read my book while she watched TV for about thirty minutes. After her program ended - and I had lost interest in the book - she suggested that we play cards. So, we played gin rummy for a while.
About forty-five minutes into our gin rummy tournament, the pastor came in and said that he was going to take a nap. We both nodded and continued playing cards and talking about whatever we had in common - not too much. When cards and chit-chat got boring, she suggested that we play the piano together. Now I had no great interest in playing the piano, but I could read music. More importantly I knew how to play by the rules and how to be polite to an adult. So, I agreed to try and she said she would teach me a song in no time.
So, she led me to a small room at the back of the house where an old piano sat. It was in fairly good condition and had a very sturdy looking piano bench in front of it. After she closed the door - so the piano wouldn't wake her husband - she sat down on the right side of the bench and motioned for me to join her.