Church

Jim but I called him Christo was the church janitor's son and I'm not sure how I first met him, but we were best friends for about five years, although he went to a different high-school than I did, the next town over, east the other way and lived on the east end of the lake. Christo could pick any lock in the church.

Sometimes I would visit Christo working for his father at the church on Saturdays and help him out a little, move chairs around. He knew how to get a free coke out of the machine downstairs in the basement. Not sure, was it a coat-hanger ? Our birthdays were four days apart and we both got army-drafted the same day. Did basic training in the same barracks.

And another friend Baldy whose name was Dick, always had money since he always had a job, first as a newspaper delivery boy and later worked at the gas station. He told us years after the fact, between services he would go into the church office claiming he had to call his mother and while pretending, he pocketed offering envelopes out of the offering trays on the desk there. He one time spent forty bucks on a coke bottle game at a carnival and lost it all. But he also stole from the gas station.

The church was a special activities place for cub-scouts, boy-scouts and Explorers, choir, women's clubs, Luther and Junior League and dinners in the basement.

At a certain point I would attend church service sitting in the cry room, with the glass window and intercom to hear the service. I was more free in there. I could scratch at leisure move around and stand up if no one else was there.

(2 of 6) Next Page