Thursday, October 29, 2020

The Hand Bell Choir

When I went to college in Jacksonville in 1965 I worked part time at Western Auto. My “room” cost $6 a week with a shared bathroom and no kitchen. I had a hot plate for a can of Ravioli and French bread with grape jam in a suitcase. 

Sunday morning I went to my Methodist church service. Sunday night I went to the Baptist Youth meeting directly across the street because they had hot dogs and potato chips. But on Wednesday night I attended the Presbyterian Church because they had a covered dish supper. I ate a lot, so to avoid being that obvious I joined the Hand Bell Choir. 

The only musical training I had was singing in the choir at Grace Methodist and in Ollie Whittles’ Glee Club in the 11th grade. The pastor invited me over to his house after one service and left me sitting in the living room with his lovely daughter as he and his wife went to bed. I had a girl friend in Sanford and asked her to marry me that Christmas Eve. So, I had to stop going for the covered dish supper. 

I dropped 10 lbs. from what I weighed at graduation. I often wondered how good a ding-a-linger I really could have been.

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