That was a different Berkeley back then
I sat by a kind of down-and-out guy and took out the Schubert Mass in A-flat to study (I use my bus time that way a lot on my way to choir practice.)
Anyway, he noticed what I was doing and asked where I sing. I told him St. Agnes, and he rambled a little about how he isn’t Catholic, but he’s had some good experiences talking with Catholic priests in the past…
“In fact ,I went to school to be a Baptist minister,” he said eventually.
“Oh yeah? I grew up Baptist. My dad was a minister too,” I said.
“Yeah, I went to seminary but I was too radical for them, so the dean kicked me out. And that was in California, too. Can you believe it?”
“Hey, my parents went to seminary in California too. At Berkeley. That was a different Berkeley back then, though. That’s what my parents say.”
“Berkeley Divinity School? What’s your dad’s name?”
“George [MY DAD'S LAST NAME]. My mom, Barbara, was in seminary at the same time for a master’s in Christian Education. They were already married
“Huh, George [MY DAD'S LAST NAME]? Was he blind, by any chance?”
“Yeah! Did you know him?”
“Sure did. George [LAST NAME]. Huh. What’s he doing now?”
“They’re retired. They live up by Brainerd now. I will have to tell him I ran into you!. I bet he would love to give you a call sometime.”
“That’s OK, I don’t have a phone. Nice talking to you..”
He got off at the next stop. My dad did remember him and asked if I got a phone number.
Jan 31st, 2007 at 7:57 am
wow, that is so bittersweet! Maybe you will run into him again!