While in Savannah I had the opportunity to take one of the many famous ghost tours. Supposedly Savannah is the most haunted place and our tour guide told us to just keep taking pictures into the dark, don't delete anything, and once you load them on your computer you will see them. Voila... here is my photo taken straight into the dark of night graveyard... see those fuzzy "orbs". Our tour guide insists those are the ghosts. Wanting to investigate a bit further, I asked the only expert I know who happens to live in our house and claims there is a ghost in residence under his bed. Little J says, "no way, gramma... those are NOT ghosts."
A while back I started attending a church in Oakland; the main purpose at that time was to find a place where Little J would feel comfortable. This is a place that celebrates in it's diversity so the fit seemed perfect. An added bonus is that I really like the preacher.
Recently I made the decision to join the church. Right about the same time, the preacher announced that he would be leaving to go to Westminster Presbyterian Church in Grand Rapids, MI. It is a good opportunity for him and I do wish him well but admit I feel a great deal of personal sadness.
But, I just couldn't stop thinking about how there must be some kind of connection here. So, I looked through my old photos and here it is. Me, age 3, July 6th, 1952 at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Grand Rapids, MI.
(BTW...The guy kind of half into the photo on the right... that's big Bro)