Slinging a smooth stone
Change, for good or ill, is inevitable
The Boise City News
Change, in any aspect of our lives is unsettling. We humans, as creatures of habit, dread, fear and resist change of nearly any kind. It is the price we pay for being able to reason.
Each of us knows that change is for the most part inevitable, but even knowing that, we usually greet it with a range of emotions from dread to outright fear.
For good or ill, change is in the air in the county's Methodist churches. For the first time within my memory, the Keyes parsonage is empty, and will for the foreseeable future, remain that way.
Except for funerals, my shadow hasn't crossed the threshold of the Keyes Methodist Church since 1979; and I haven't been in the quaint little church at Marella since I delivered a lay sermon there in about 1974. Even so, it was a feeling of dread I felt when I first heard that no minister would live in the Keyes parsonage; it was and is, a change with which I'm not comfortable, and perhaps never will be.
I can't remember when there wasn't a Keyes; but I can remember when its Methodist Church was a basement with two large rooms and a path to the outhouse.
I can remember when my father gave my brother and I enough pennies to put in the little church bank for each year of our lives and how the congregation would count aloud as the little light in the steeple lit with each penny dropped on the Sunday nearest our birthdays.
I can remember a succession of ministers and their families; though I can't remember all their names; the Coxes, Smiths, Siffords, Sebastians, Phareses and Frisbees were but a few.
I remember sitting on those hard folding pews in that basement, looking at the plans for the new church hanging on the wall. They were next to the paper thermometer marking the dollars in the building fund. It seemed its climb toward the construction level was painfully slow.
I remember my father, W.C. Roberts and Ed Sifford turning that first shovel of dirt and craftsmen such as Jack Wiggins, John Vannatta, Dorvin Golay, Keith Conner, John and Bud Harriman building that church one nail at a time.
With a smile, I remember when my classmate Johnny Harbaugh wore Bermuda shorts to Sunday morning services and the eyebrows he raised.
I remember standing up with my friend, and Preacher's Kid Danny Sebastian when he married his wife Barbara.
I remember the funerals of both my parents and many of their contemporaries.
I remember the quartet that sang at those services, K. B. Williams, Bernie Badgley, Betty Gardner, Gertie Mobray, and as death...changed its makeup, Marv and Dee Smith were added.
What I don't remember, is having the parsonage without a family. I hope someday soon, that too is but a memory.
The word for the week is: modification.
Boise City News