GOING HOME AGAIN

 3972

The other day I drove the 8 or 10 miles which separated me from my hometown of Bartow, Florida to deposit a check. With all the bank closings, it seems we have to drive further and further to do our banking. The bank branch which I usually frequent is across the street from the Methodist church which my parents, my siblings and I attended as a child. And as I put my check into the outside chute, and the teller interacted with me, I said,

"Do you know the history of the land on which this bank was built?"

To which the friendly young woman replied,

"Well, no. No, I don't."

There are days when I feel especially like talking, and other days when I am somewhat quieter; a fact which my wife and children are quick to tell anyone. That particular day was one of those days I felt especially communicative.

I continued.

"Well, when I was a boy, over sixty years ago, I attended Sunday School in an old wooden house at this location; decades before the current bank was built here."

(and)

"You see that huge oak tree? I'm certain it was here when I walked across Broadway, and into that old house every Sunday."

The teller expressed interest in my story, and we parted with her rejoiner.

"Wow. That's interesting. I'll have to do some research on the topic."

After I bid my 'goodbyes,' I turned left on Broadway, and began to "retrace my steps" towards home.

After I had driven about a mile, and was nearing the city limits, I made a momentary decision to pull into KFC, and buy a three piece chicken dinner for my wife and I to share.

After I stopped at the speaker, and placed my order, I pulled up to the window. Opening the window, the young lady passed my iced tea to me, and was about to retrieve my chicken dinner when my conversational mode suddenly 'kicked in' again.

"You know I once heard Colonel Sanders speak. He was a guest at the college I attended back in the 60's, and he spoke about his life and business career in our chapel service. Of course, he wore his trademark white suit and black string tie. He seemed to be such a quiet and kind man; a real Christian gentleman."

And like the bank teller before her, the restaurant attendant expressed interest, and bantered a bit with me about the story I told her.

They say, "you can't go home." Oh, I don't know about that. I came pretty close that day.

by William McDonald, PhD