Friday, January 08, 2010
my Lutheran church
Upper Pigeon Creek Lutheran church is the church I attended while growing up, till I moved to Phoenix 33 years ago at the age of 20. I have so many fond memories of this special place... Sunday school, vacation bible school, Confirmation, Luther League, singing at Ladies Aid, Christmas programs, weddings and funerals for my Dad's parents. I even sang at my Dad's service.
Each of these stained glass murals cover the entire wall on either side of the sanctuary. They are huge. Oh the hours I spent looking at these exquisite pieces of art each Sunday while growing up. Clic the pics to see how large the windows really are next to the pews.
OK, cute story. This church also holds a rather peculiar memory for my husband. This is where he had his very first taste of alcohol. At 24.
Let me explain.
Soon after Randy & I met in 1977, I moved back to Wisconsin. My best friend Linda & I had lived in Phoenix for 8 months and decided to head back to WI for her upcoming wedding, unsure if I was ever coming back. Click HERE if you want to know how a farm girl ends up in Phoenix.
Anyway, the other Linda asked Randy to sing at her wedding. So he and his best friend came and stayed on the farm for a week in August. It was during that time that he attended my little Lutheran church and it was during communion that he had his very first taste of alcohol. Let me further explain. They only served grape juice in the Southern Baptist churches he attended while growing up... and he also came from a family that did not drink.
The funny thing is, while Randy was kneeling so reverently around the altar, he had no idea he was about to be served wine instead of grape juice. Needless to say, he was quite surprised.
This precious little church (storage for the cemetery lawn equipment) is a reproduction of the original church that was actually built on that very spot back in 1874. My Dad was laid to rest just a few yards from this lovely little church. Back in those days the cemetery surrounded the church building. When the church burned down they built the present one in 1910 and let the cemetery have it's own space where it all began back in 1874.
Oh the hours I've spent walking through that cemetery over the years. Four generations of my family are now buried in that cemetery. My Dad's grandparents, my Dad's parents, my Dad and his grandson Noel.
* Thanks to Noel's sister Kristen for taking the last picture.