URBANNA — How can I ever forget my first visit to Christ Church in 1984? Forty years have passed, but I still can recall every detail of that momentous day that I later referred to as “my christening.”
My first visit was not only unforgettable, but it was a classic newcomer tale. I went to church that momentous Sunday by myself as Chip was busy with some project in our restoration of the Kent Street Cottage. I knew no one at the church so I walked in and sat in a pew with only one lady sitting in the center of it. I didn’t know that in those days some members had their own private pews.
I heard a muffled sound of a gasp and as I turned to look behind me I noticed every eye in the church was on me. I looked back at the lady in our shared pew. She did not turn to welcome me, smile or even acknowledge my presence, so I simply turned to my program and arranged my prayer and hymn books accordingly to prepare for any coming spiritual uplift.
Then the plot thickened as plots, once started, tend to do. My church in Newport News had already started using “the peace,” which was a time when the priest came down from his perch and greeted people while the people turned to others next to them and extended their hand in similar friendship and wished greetings of peace to their fellow parishioners.
But this morning was to be the first time “the peace” was to be done at Christ Church. The Rev. Jerry Bunting explained why it had been added to the service and then how it was to be done and then we were instructed to turn to our neighbors and greet each other.
I looked at the lady next to me who was still staring rigidly at the altar. She did not appear to be approachable to a greeting. Perhaps she was ill? I wondered. Did I dare extend the peace to her?
Feeling a need to express friendship, I went ahead and wished her the peace. She did not respond and I quickly withdrew to the solace of my prayer book perhaps as a stuck snail might return to the safety of its shell. I had the feeling I had committed some unmentionable, almost heinous crime.
Finally, the service ended and I headed for the door. Someone stopped me at the exit with a twinkle in his eyes. “Did you realize you were sitting in Mrs. Puller’s pew?” he said laughing. “No one is allowed to sit in Mrs. Puller’s pew!”
“Who is Mrs. Puller?” I asked him and others who had gathered gleefully at his side in communal laughter. It turned out for those readers who are unaware of past local royalty as I was, she was “the general’s wife,” “Chesty” Puller, the most famous Marine ever, well known for his bravery in battle, who is buried in the church cemetery. The U.S. Marines revere his memory so much they come every year to the church in the fall to pay homage to their great leader and celebrate the birthday of the Marines.
So, we all laughed. I had been initiated to local rule and the joke was on me.
One other time I tried to do the peace to an equally rigid gentleman who was sitting directly behind me. I thought enough time had passed since the introduction of the peace so that it would be safe and everyone would be comfortable. I was wrong.
I reached out to offer my hand and wished the gentleman peace. “Don’t touch me!” he exclaimed with great religious fervor. I decided to give up on any future attempts of wishing my fellow man peace.
The story of my first visit to Christ Church is one of my favorite newcomer to Middlesex County tales and explains well to my readers why I rapidly evolved into a humorist. (I want to assure readers that I am still a member of the church and that we are a friendly, welcoming, caring and user-friendly church today.)
The first store I visited in Urbanna was Emily Chowning’s frame and art shop. I loved her artwork and was thrilled when she later painted the old Southside Sentinel building before it was replaced by the handsome brick building on Virginia Street today. At that time, it sported two white columns outside and it made a perfect cover for one of my books, “One Woman’s Opinion.”
Her husband, Shep, always encouraged me in my writing. I really needed encouragement in those early days in writing my weekly column because so many men complained a woman was writing in the local newspaper. Truly Middlesex County was a very different world in those years.
A very happy memory was Emily and I joined retired teacher and Topping resident Ruby Lee Norris in a telephone campaign to help elect Ronald Reagan that year. Bankie Nuckols rented the office next to Kim Harris’s salon as the GOP headquarters, which later became attorney Roger Hopper’s law office.
In 1991, my husband opened a branch law office in Urbanna in Hopper’s previous location as he had moved to Saluda and built a new colonial style office. We three ladies called registered voters in the county asking for them to consider our candidate for president. It was lots of fun.
I was lucky enough to know R.S. Bristow, who owned the country store on the corner of Virginia and Cross streets. I can still see him sitting behind his desk behind the counter. He had a relative that worked in the store that always mistook me for Pat Marshall. “Why Pat, you are just a shadow of yourself!” she said to me the first time we met.
When I told her who I was and that I was a new resident in town she looked quite startled. You could have been her twin!” she exclaimed. I felt quite complimented. Pat Marshall was just about the most popular lady in Urbanna and she, too, is deeply missed as she and her family have done so much for the town of Urbanna.
(to be continued)
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