My Dad was a pastor. We all went to church in the jeep. When we moved to Kentucky, Dad had an office at the church. He would stay there, and we would be home with Mom. Several times we went to see Dad, by walking on the dirt road to the church. We saw a snake across the road one time. We hopped over, and went on our way. It was a long, black snake.

I remember crying when people would sing the hymns at church. I was suddenly weeping profusely. I don’t quite understand why, unless I loved the melody, and it got to me. All of us girls were, and are very, musically, minded. I was little enough to be carried when I pretended to fall asleep. We drove somewhere, and I would “fall asleep” so Dad would carry me inside. I loved to pretend, and then wake up.


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