There’s no snow on the ground but it is cold enough—35 degrees with a breeze. Dad and I walk around the block. Four laps make a mile. Dad talks while we walk.
I ask if he remembers cold days in
In a phone call to Rexford, decision makers told Dad that they should head back to
As he recalls, the meeting with church leaders was brief and an invitation was extended. Apparently, the Rexford group was concerned that a “city boy”from Dallas might not be able to handle life on the plains. So, if the snow storm was a test--Dad passed.
I never lived in Rexford but grew up hearing lots of stories about it. This was a new one for me.
ram
2 comments:
That trip from Fort Worth to Rexford is one of my earliest memories. And Dad's recollection matches my own (though we have reviewed it from time to time). Staying in an underground house was like time travel or something. It boggles my mind that we made that trip without snow tires (though we probably bought chains in Oakley).
Rexford was a favorite theme for reflection during this visit to Springfield. Dad also mentioned a time when he represented the "town drunk" in court? The judge asked, "Who is representing you?" The defendant said--"Pastor Jim" and off they went.
I think the story should have ended with the judge sentencing the man to a month of preaching and then throwing Dad in jail for impersonating a lawyer :-)
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