HOW WE GOT HERE VOLUME 1

BLOG 1. 10/28/09

HOW WE GOT HERE VOLUME 1

One of my earliest memories, after my family moved from Farmersville, Texas to Fairview, Texas, was early one Sunday morning stopping at the Friendship Baptist Church to get directions to the Jupiter Road Church of Christ. My mother was a devout Church of Christer from way back. Her father was a C.O.C. preacher before he decided he preferred drinking to that particular vocation. I guess my mother’s devotion made us all pretty devout Church of Christers in one way or another. Everyone but my father who preferred the Dallas Cowboys to a church pew. And so this is where our story begins.

Sitting in the back seat of our giant family car (probably a late 60’s Chevy, and probably not a car seat between us) perched on an uneven shoulder, careful not to actually pull into the parking lot so as not to give the Baptists false hope. Surprisingly, I now recall that my father was with us on this fateful morning, and was actually the one who went in for the directions. I was three-years-old and sat in the back seat between my sister, Randi (two years older than me) and my brother Todd (five years older than me). Dad came back to the car and started it up. We were off to the Jupiter Road Church of Christ.

Jupiter Road Church of Christ was actually in the next town over, Allen, Texas. Just five miles up the road, it seemed like you had to drive all the way across the widest part of Texas to get there. Back in those days, the main thoroughfare between Fairview and Allen was Stacy Road.

Stacy Road started off paved at one end (the end where Friendship Baptist Church was located) and wound through a small “neighborhood” before emptying onto a narrow white rock lane. A hand-full of farm houses dotted the horizons on either side of the road.

The biggest obstacle between sinner and salvation was a rickety old one lane wooden bridge. You may picture a painting of one of those charming old covered bridges surrounded by trees just ready to lose their leaves in celebration of Fall. You would be wrong.

Picture that bridge in the painting, then take the cover off. Pull most of the planks out of the driving surface. Make it narrower and shakier. Now lose the trees, grass and any other sign of beauty, then replace it with a medium sized creek, surrounded by only white rock as far as the eye could see. Then make it shakier again.

Even Dad couldn’t hide the concern on his face as we inched across the structure. Did he have the directions right? Could this be the way to the Jupiter Road Church of Christ? Narrow was the way that Sunday morning for sure.

Eventually, Stacy Road led to Highway 5 and a four-way stop. As we took a left out onto the two lane road. I noticed a white house with a large porch and a small silo out back. For some reason, I was instantly convinced that someone had died in that house. And furthermore, was quite sure that said someone had been brutally murdered. I’d like to say that years later I found out that was true, but I’m really not sure if I ever found out. The house is gone now, and we may never know. I do know that even though I was young, it seemed like a lot of bodies were being found in the area and the adults around me had no trouble discussing the details. Somehow, they always turned it into some sort of warning about living life right. Which brings us back to the Church of Christ.

A few miles, one left, and two rights later, we were in front of the Jupiter Road Church of Christ.