Val-Pee
Yesterday morning we left and drove over to Destin, had a quick lunch at Fresh Market then north across the midbay bridge and west on route 20 to Niceville. The funeral service for Zoe Bush was there at St. Jude's Episcopal Church, where Zoe and Arnold served for years, and they interred her ashes in their lovely chapel. Father Arnold came over early in 2003 and served as our first interim rector at Holy Nativity. A few years ago they moved to Birmingham, Alabama to retire near children and grandchildren. Folks who know him will understand that I cannot imagine Arnold without Zoe, and it was obvious yesterday that that is about where Arnold still is too. I am very sad for him, but in arm with God, he will make it.
Although I've driven through Niceville and Valparaiso (which they call Val-Pee) many times, it was my first visit to St. Jude's, Niceville. The location seems perfect for a church, spacious grounds right on a busy highway. The chapel is large and at least architecturally the center of things. Linda and I went in there first, thinking it was the main church (what today has come to be called the sanctuary); but it only had seats for 36 on each side, so we walked next door and found the church proper, their main worship space.
Niceville/Valparaiso has a place in my mind's history of my being. In their grief wanderings after the death of their son Alfred, my grandparents, in the 1920s, moved from St. Andrews to Ocilla, Georgia, were there for a couple of years, then moved to south Florida. They relocated from south Florida to Valparaiso and lived there in Valparaiso/Niceville for a while before moving on to Pensacola, where my parents were fairly close neighbors in East Hill and students together at Pensacola High School.
We were gone all day yesterday, Saturday. I have my sermon, or is it homily, notes about ready; but this time on Sunday morning for the past thirty-something years, I have stopped whatever I was doing to go over them before getting into the pulpit to make a fool of myself yet one more time again.
TomW+
Although I've driven through Niceville and Valparaiso (which they call Val-Pee) many times, it was my first visit to St. Jude's, Niceville. The location seems perfect for a church, spacious grounds right on a busy highway. The chapel is large and at least architecturally the center of things. Linda and I went in there first, thinking it was the main church (what today has come to be called the sanctuary); but it only had seats for 36 on each side, so we walked next door and found the church proper, their main worship space.
Niceville/Valparaiso has a place in my mind's history of my being. In their grief wanderings after the death of their son Alfred, my grandparents, in the 1920s, moved from St. Andrews to Ocilla, Georgia, were there for a couple of years, then moved to south Florida. They relocated from south Florida to Valparaiso and lived there in Valparaiso/Niceville for a while before moving on to Pensacola, where my parents were fairly close neighbors in East Hill and students together at Pensacola High School.
We were gone all day yesterday, Saturday. I have my sermon, or is it homily, notes about ready; but this time on Sunday morning for the past thirty-something years, I have stopped whatever I was doing to go over them before getting into the pulpit to make a fool of myself yet one more time again.
TomW+