One man showed up a little late and the two guys at the table where I was sitting announced his arrival and told me what I could expect. The man would get the morning paper and immediately turn to the car ads. He reportedly makes a hobby out of buying collectables and he is always on the look out. True to the voice of prophecy, the man picked up the car ads and set down at our table. He couldn’t have been more personable. So how many cars did the man have? I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask. As it turns out, he has a dozen. When you purchase the kinds of cars this man buys, it is an investment. They appreciate in value. His attitude was pretty laid-back.
However, the folks who were present in the restaurant and their spin on the day intrigued me. There obviously are no private conversations that take place over breakfast. People from across the restaurant feel free to contribute to whatever they overhear and get in their two cents worth.
In thinking about the host of folks I’ve met this week, the common denominator seemed to indicate they all have “true grit” as part of their persona. Seriously, when folks need to purchase a “Safe House” (aka – tornado shelter) to take the edge of a pending storm, I can see that true grit is a necessary ingredient to survival in Oklahoma.
I met one lady this week that kept me in stitches the whole time she was talking. She is one of the funniest people I’ve ever met and the laughter is all associated with her pursuit on life. I had the sense that everything she was sharing was 100% accurate. Trust me, nobody has the kind of imagination that you could ever make up a story like the ones she shared.
Take church for example. Years ago she and her husband were very active in a Baptist Church. In fact, her husband was the church treasurer. Wouldn’t you know it? He was also an engineer? Left-brain people count money and they build bridges. So far, so good! There is nothing incongruent in that observation.
Pardon the pun, but the rub was in the kinds of things that transpired over the three-week period while the family was away. Why this family didn’t see the handwriting on the wall earlier, I don’t know? The husband had to travel to Egypt on business and the wife saw it as an opportunity bone-up on camel riding and take to the pyramids. So off they went.
When they got back to church a month later, it was the story of “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” all over again. For starters, the church had a new pastor. No one bothered to say what had become of the last one or how the church managed to find a replacement so quickly. In addition, there was now an influx of new people that had come out of nowhere and they were “taking over”. They also were making the Baptist Church appear more like a Pentecostal Church.
It wasn’t just the numbers of people raising their arms and hands during the service, but that seemed dramatically out of place. No self-respecting Baptist would ever behave that way in church. However, it was the healing service that served as the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. Sister “so and so” went down to the front for healing. The new pastor called on a new friend who’d not been introduced to help with the healing. He more or less popped the lady with the palm of his hand on her forehead and articulated a prayer. Following the prayer, the person with the prayer need was asked how she was feeling. She managed to say: “Not so good”.
In as quickly as one could say, “Abracadabra”, out of nowhere came a right hook and the lady got popped on the forehead again and prayed for a second time. The third time was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The lady punched her husband and told him to go to the car. She was going to fetch their four-year-old from the Sunday school department. It was their intent to leave and never return. I mean enough is enough. The next thing you know if they stayed, they might be attempting to part the Red Sea all over again. They had to get going while the going was good.
The first problem was getting the four-year-old out of Sunday school. The mother was told that he couldn’t leave. Some guy was trying to charge dynamite and was going to show the kids an explosion so they could know how the Holy Spirit works. I’m not making this stuff up. That’s what she really said.
I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t create this story, I’m just writing it down. Please don’t shoot the messenger. The mother called for her son to come. He yelled back that he was going to wait to see the dynamite explosion. Well, maybe not. The mother was pretty adamant that they were leaving.
She didn’t expect the director of the Sunday school to attempt to block the door with her body to keep the mother and son from leaving. They pushed their way through. They had barely gotten into the vehicle before the Sunday school director of the 4-year-old department was out the door and attempting to stop the family’s leaving my jumping on the hood of the vehicle.
So was it temporary insanity? Who’s to say? The wife figuratively screamed to her husband to “put the peddle to the metal and run her down”. Okay, so maybe it was still a Baptist Church after all? (Just joking). Fortunately, left-brain people aren’t of that mindset. Consequently, just driving away at a regular speed was all it took.
Where else but Oklahoma? Like I said, it takes “true grit” to weather the storm. Just in case you’re wondering, I’ve got more true grit stories to share tomorrow.
All My Best!
Don