Happy Easter to ((((ALL)))) Robert Sheridan bobsheridan email@example.com
Speaking of the Moravian church, I haven't seen one in years, but I grew up across the street from the Castleton Corners Moravian Church at the intersection of Victory Boulevard, Todt Hill Road, and Hodges Place. That's where my Cub Pack, and Troop 26, BSA, met. We'd play football in the churchyard and throw snowballs at Art chugging up the hill on the Number 6 Bus in winter. The church band practiced American Patrol in the basement. We'd climb down the dungeons, which is what we called the deep concrete lined and iron railed light wells that serviced the basement rooms. We climbed the sycamore and elm trees in the yard. Every morning on the way to PS 29 we'd cut through the churchyard to take the short-cut. I got into the habit of always looking down crossing in the morning on the way to school, taking this shortcut, because I learned from experience that you could almost always find a penny, or a nickel, or a dime, that fell out of someone's pocket the afternoon before, from playing football. When you got tackled, sometimes a coin would roll out of your pocket. The found coin was always good for a penny candy purchased from Mauro's candy store at Victory and Slosson. Nothing tasted better than a free bubble gum purchased with a found penny.
That's my Moravian Church experience. I never participated doctrinally, but I sure did grow up on the church, if not in it.
Oh, one other thing. The church had an old fashioned bell tower, with bell and P.A. system. Every morning the church bell would ring the time, followed by the broadcast of a short organ piece. The Moravian Church was more in me than I was in it. Weunsch, Kiesewetter, Suemper, Perkins, Gough, were some of the names I remember. After I sign off I'll remember my scoutmaster's name. Funny how that works. Let's see, that was almost fifty years ago. That's even funnier, how that works.
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