“Bruce, she floats like a cork, what do you want me to teach her?” Al moved his hands from underneath my back to show my dad.

“I want her to learn rotary breathing and how to save herself from drowning.”

Daddy, Al, and I met once a week for eight weeks at Reynolds Park swimming pool. I recall that we were totally alone in the pool and later wondered how Daddy accomplished that in a public park.  When I asked him he gave me one of his ‘non answers’.

As the weeks passed, my confidence grew.   My last lesson was to be a race with Daddy.   After beating him handily, I wanted Al to be my next opponent. Daddy took his place as the starter for the last race.  Taking our spots in a crouched diving stance, Al and I were poised to begin.

“ On your mark, get set, GO!”

The sting of the water took my breath.  I emerged to realize that Al was almost to the other side of the pool. I churned through the water creating a plume of foam with my small body.  Exhausted, I reached the pool wall and Al’s feet dangling from the deck.

“It won’t come easy, but you’ve got the spirit to be a great swimmer.”

He wanted me to have confidence, but to realize I needed much more training. He wasn’t about to throw this race to hand me confidence on a silver platter.

How many people get to take swimming lessons with their dad as one of the students? What unique blessings I’ve experienced. Summer and water play take me back to Reynolds Park pool and my dad’s voice.

Summer was a wonderful opportunity to pool hop. In the 1950′s a swimming pool was a welcome addition to Tanglewood Park near Winston-Salem.  Swimming pool birthday parties with hamburgers on the side, were the best entrées for dog day afternoons. I spotted the old train caboose near the pool as I popped up from underwater somersaults.  Attempting a train sound with waterlogged tonsils, left me sputtering for air. I was heady with excitement; mesmerized by the sun, the water, and friends.

Weekends with my grandmother stretched to weeks during the summer months.  Her home was within walking distance of North Elementary and their new swim team. I knew a member of the team, and went to watch the meets.  After the races were over, I dived in to swim.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            One afternoon, after their practice, I waited on the deck for the swimmers to clear the pool for free swim. The swim coach called to me, “Would you like to try out for the team?”

“Sure, when can I do it?”

“How about now?” she replied.

Excited, I heaved myself upward to a diving stance. She began the countdown, stopwatch in hand:

“Five, four, three, two, one, GO!”

My arms cut the water with swift, clean results.  I was across the pool in the time necessary to qualify for the team.

“Oh, thank you.  Wait ‘til I tell everybody!”

The next three summers found me an eager participant in the swim team.  The silky clean water bathed me inside and out. After practice, I floated on my back, with crossed ankles, and imagined puffy cloud formations to be animals or people.

My walking route  from the pool to my grandmother’s house never varied. I took the ‘long cut’ under the train trestle hung a right and walked to a street running parallel to ‘Mema’ Franklin’s house on 15th Street. I passed her church, the old Burkhead Methodist Church, before I turned the corner to see her big clapboard white house with the wide porch and green swing. Mema didn’t worry that I took the long way and never locked her doors. About twenty years ago I drove to Mema’s neighborhood to look at the house only to find a deserted weed choked field. You truly can’t go home again…

L to R: Jean, Juanita,and Bruce Lewis, Moi in the front

Jean approximately 9 years, Me, 2

Annual Myrtle Beach Trip

Just give us water play and we were happy.

Mama and Daddy standing in front of our Dodge 1948 model with red push button starter.

He let me start it when Mama wasn’t looking.

Sunday lunch at Mema’s included aunts, uncles, cousins, 2 meats, 5 to 6 veggies and 3 to four desserts. Pies with thick sugar on top–you could see the glistening of the sugar. Cakes were high, thick, moist and outrageously coconut, chocolate, and……………she ran a boarding house and sometimes they would eat too. We never could get her friend who helped her cook to sit down with us, she was always invited.

Raise your hand if you think fraternities and sororities are only about drinking, hazing, and partying. Yes, I see you out there, yes, I see that hand. Once I would have raised mine too, until I learned about Intervarsity Christian Fellowship from my young friend Dusty Harrison. As a child, when Dusty showed up at my sister’s house in Winston-Salem, or in the church they both called home, I thought, what a cute kid, he’ll break hearts one day.  As Dusty has grown and matured he’s become more than the cute kid in the neighborhood, he’s working on college campuses to make a difference. Dusty is a representative for Greek Intervarsity, a ministry of Intervarsity Christian Fellowship.  He took his place at Clemson University in 2007 as one of a number of campus ministries already on site, but none reaching out specifically to fraternity and sorority students who sometimes get left out. Greek Intervarsity offers a niche for these students within a large campus and offers them an opportunity to engage their faith.   For Dusty, a UNC-Chapel Hill grad, it brought 25,000 students down to a family.  At a campus orientation Dusty noticed a sign at a table that asked, “Can your Faith and Fraternity Coexist?”  Greek Intervarsity representative, David Shepley, provided an avenue for Dusty and other fraternity brothers to capture the best of both worlds, fully Greek and fully Christian. “I met a different Jesus my sophomore year at UNC,” Dusty states.

“Jesus hung out with people who were marginal in society and cared for them unconditionally. The Bible tells us to be ‘in the world, but not of it.’ Greek Intervarsity encourages students not to drop out of their fraternity or sorority but to be an encouragement to their brothers and sisters from within. Along the way, I met Christians who thought that you couldn’t be in a Greek organization if you were a Christian and their reaction was one of surprise and sometimes, disdain when they learned that I had pledged.”

For the first time ever, Clemson University is the site of a Greek Intervarsity ministry. Dusty’s task is to gather students together, within the framework of their fraternities and sororities, encourage them to live the Christian life, then scatter those students out to encourage their brothers and sisters.   For those, who for a number of reasons may not be attending a church in college, he will try to plug them in to various churches.

Dusty’s vision is to include all fraternities and sororities in this movement, including the National Pan-Hellenic Council, made up of historically black and multi cultural fraternity and sororities. “I’d like to use the gospel to bridge the racial and cultural gap that exists on campus and in the Greek system so that we can better understand each other.” Dusty leads a team of Intervarsity staff from around the country to raise awareness for this outreach.

Like most campus ministers, Dusty is responsible for raising his own base of financial support from local churches, families, and alumni to fund Greek Intervarsity at Clemson.  A portion of the funds Dusty collects are matched by the national organization.

In his first semester of ministry at Clemson, Dusty spent most of his time meeting students, faculty, local pastors, and community members in order to share the vision of Clemson Greek Intervarsity.  The year of the fire at Ocean Isle Beach, which resulted in the death of six USC students and one Clemson student—all members of Greek organizations—Dusty was available for prayer for grieving students at Clemson. As a result, a Greek Bible study has begun meeting on campus on Thursday nights to serve as a safe place for students to come and investigate Christianity and learn how to better serve their Greek brothers and sisters.

“It is tragedies like the fire at Ocean Isle and the Virginia Tech shooting that remind us just how vulnerable the college campus really is,” Dusty said.  “It is my prayer that Greek Intervarsity would be a unique Christian community at Clemson where students can come as they are to experience God. I am working toward the goal that they will leave transformed and equipped to be a part of a movement for positive change on campus and for life after college.”

Dusty became a married man in October of 2007.  His Central, SC home is graced by his lovely wife Christin, who shares his vision. Christin and Dusty are now proud parents to Reese, their precious little girl who will be two in October.  It’s a tall order for the cute little kid who came to my sister’s door as a child, but I have no doubt that his giant faith and our prayers will strengthen him for the task.

The young Harrisons have been a source of help and comfort to me since Bill’s death. These two were very special to Bill also and he guided them to a realtor that helped them find their home. I am thankful that Bill got to hold Reese as an infant.  This year I attended the Prayer Path at their Wesleyan church in Central. Similar to the Stations of the Cross in the Catholic Church, it allows an interactive look into the last week in the life of Christ. If you are looking for a church home in the Clemson-Central area, you may want to visit Alive Wesleyan Church.

If you would like to know more about Greek Intervarsity Ministries, visit their website at, http://www.greekintervarsity.org.  If you or your church would like to donate follow the links to donate or you may contact Dusty Harrison at dustyharrison@gmail.com. 

His phone at 1-336-403-8609.  Dusty is available to share his faith with churches and is a dynamic speaker.  If you are in the Winston-Salem area, Dusty would love to talk with you as well.

Reese, Dusty, Christin Harrison and me at Cook Out in Clemson. Dusty has had to adjust to this orange world, but is forever true to his 'Heels

 My dry land aerobics career came to an abrupt halt in 1999. After becoming a bride in July of 1997, I broke my ankle descending some steps in September of the same year. After the prescribed days in physical therapy I tried to get back to my aerobics class. What followed was various ankle injuries, a frozen shoulder that took six months to thaw, and a foot that fell off its arch—I laid away my leotard.  The “Itis Boys” won the day—tendonitis, bursitis, arthritis, and plantar fasciitis. But I’ve never been one to sit on the shelf in rust formation.  I found a new aerobics adventure.  The Wet ‘N Wild, Churning Around, Feet Off the Ground, Aquasize Aquatic Adventure, performed at the Keowee Key Fitness and Racquet Center (known as the Kourthouse, for those familiar with the area’s history.)

I never thought exercise could be so much fun.  Our fearless leader, Patsy Lowery, moves around on the dry deck to show us how to wiggle in the waves.  Using such terms as “drum major walk,” combined with country, jazz, swing, gospel, and beach music, we exercise—injury free.  The most unusual phenomenon of our damp dancing is perspiring in water.  It’s not a float in the stream folks, it’s work. I love it when someone comes in thinking the class is going to be easy, never to be seen again after one session!

One year we had a demonstration of our aqua feats at our super cool Junior Olympic size pool.  We danced to Elvira—the lead song, also known as Routine Number 6. With lots of ‘yeee-hawws’ we did our country jogs for those who thought our most strenuous workout was exercising our fingers.  Our latest routine—Number 10, is wonderfully fast paced with steel drums, Michael Jackson, and a host of others. The hour goes by too fast. Each routine is followed by muscle toning and stretches using a combination of swim noodles, paddles, aqua bar bells, and swim discs.

Our group has become family after so many years of splashing around together. We pray for each other, send cards, and occasionally attend the services of those who have been called into their heavenly home.

We do have some absolute, A Number One characters. I exercise close to Ray and Don.  These ‘comedian wannabes’ ham and egg it with each other. Ray is the straight man while Don keeps us in stitches. Not everyone can hear our conversations:

Don: “It’s cold in here, this’ll make a man out of you.”

Me: “That ought to be interesting in this kind of bathing suit.”

On occasion the ladies in our group go to lunch in the metropolis of Seneca and trip through the cute shops along Ram Cat Alley. Our Christmas lunch is held on the aerobics floor in the fitness center. Attendance among the food laden tables will be the closest I get to that activity again.

I know that the makers of “Buns of Steel” will be disappointed that I’ll no longer be available to appear in their chorus lines of video gymnasts.  However, my new exercise career may take me to even greater heights.  Imagine—a new fitness DVD—“The Wave Wonders,” featuring “The Slippery Seniors of Salem and Beyond.”  A runaway bestseller at our local convenience store.  Splash on!!

With special honor to:

Nancy Bledsoe-Certified Aquatics Trainer and Instructor: over twenty years as coordinator of music and movement for Keowee Key Wet ‘n Wild Aquasize Classes.  Nancy subs for Patsy Lowery when needed, prompts her from the water, gets the music and microphones adjusted, kills bugs………….

Patsy Lowery-Certified Aquatics Trainer and Instructor: Patsy has pushed through her own injuries and family challenges to be our stick thin, light-hearted,  and sweat  blonde instructor. The dry deck is the hardest place of all!!

 Part of My Water Family in a Picture from the Past

On occasion I’ve had the opportunity to sub in our church office. After checking in, Preacher Clint made use of his umbilical cord to the world, his telephone, then off he’d drive. All Preacher Clint needed for an office was his car. Any car he drove had to be covered with prayer for each visit. Many a young pastor gained a more in depth prayer life from being a frightened passenger in the red jeep!  He was committed to visiting us in our sicknesses, griefs, and defeats. He agonized when a person turned a cold shoulder to God and was first at the throne of celebration when an angry soul softened to the call of the Savior.

A few years ago, as I sat behind the desk of the church, a young man wandered into the building. He had just been released from a three year stay in prison. Nervously, he clutched a piece of paper in his hand with the address of a friend. He saw our white steeple and came to us for directions.

Preacher Clint loaded two food boxes in the car, drove the young man to his destination, gave him a little money, and no doubt prayed with him. I only knew about the money because I asked, “Clint, should we give him some money, then get it back from the benevolence fund?” Clint replied, “I’ve already given him some, don’t worry benevolence, it’s all God’s anyway.”

Over the next few days many words will be spoken and pages written about this hero of the faith. The last afternoon I saw him was warm and sunny. Trina, his beloved wife, had him out on the front porch in his wheelchair. He took my hand as always, gripped it tightly and said, “Ann, I’m so glad to see you.  The sun is feels so good on my face, sit with me.”  Now Preacher Clint sits with Jesus, a pair truly made in heaven.

Funny Note:

When Bill and I became engaged I took him to Open Door.  As I introduced Bill to Pastor Clint, they hugged and greeted each other. I said, “well,I guess this means you’re in Bill.” Come to find out they had known each other for 10 years and had shared a real estate cubicle in Seneca when Bill first moved to the area!

Preacher Clint’s Graduation Announcement:

I did return and school got better. I learned to read under the tutelage of Mrs. Agnes Carlton. I wanted to read to everyone.  I read to the lady next door as she hung out her laundry.  I read to my parents, my sister, and the mailman on his Saturday delivery.  As he left his mail truck and walked the long flight of steps to our house, he learned of Dick and Jane’s adventures.  The world had popped open with a gift for me, an illustrious pearl called a book.

I am thankful to the memory of Mrs. Carlton who listened patiently as we read from huge sheets of lined poster board.  Her faith in me enabled me to read a script as Betty Clean Teeth in the Health Day Play. Not only was I able to read it, I learned it from memory.

She had faith in my ability to be one of the Helpers for the Week. One day that faith was tested. I was to share the duty of cleaning out the goldfish bowl and watering the plants with Frank Pelligrini. We were to take the plants and the goldfish bowl to the janitor’s room.  There were no sinks or bathrooms in the elementary classroom of the Fifties.  I carried the plant and opened the janitor’s door as Frank carried the goldfish bowl.  The door swung back, hit Frank, and dumped the contents of the glass bowl.  The wiggling goldfish flopped onto my new moccasins, looking for their watery home. All I could do was cry as I stood in my soaking dress and shoes.  Frank seized our teacher from the classroom, but not before the goldfish flipped their last flop.

A parent volunteer dressed me in an outfit that wrapped around me twice, and large shoes from the homeless children’s closet.  Our entire class paid respects to the goldfish as Mrs. Carlton, with a prayer, flushed them down the janitor’s commode.

As you think back with nostalgia on your own school days, thank a teacher whose care worn tonsils and endless patience have the faith to prepare a child for adulthood.

–From “Slightly North of Salem”

Ann Coogler

Calvin H. Wiley School still stands 'on a hill above a meadow.' I learned to read and write here.

Note: Each of my grandchildren is required to take the “Roots Tour” sometime in their young lives. I spend five days with one grandchild visiting the schools I attended, Krispy Kreme donuts, the Moravian Graveyard, and a variety of other haunts from my past.

I have graduated two grandchildren from the tour: Joy and Emily. Early June will find me enrolling Faith into the residence hall of Aunt Jean (my sister) as we go back to ‘the day.’

Noise is all around us. In the Old Testament book of Jeremiah 50:22, the noise of battle was in the land.  Where do we find quiet in our world to meditate and pray for those we hold dear? Earplugs are a start, or as Jesus did, we must draw away.  Imagine the crowd noise on Palm Sunday when his followers greeted Jesus as he rode on a docile donkey.  Later, Jesus, knowing his fate, drew away from his disciples to pray.  He knew that the crowd noise would follow him and that soon he would be stoned and beaten.

Scientists offer explanations of white noise, brown noise, and pink noise.  Preschool teachers offer explanations of learning noise and out of control noise. Sometimes we have noise within our own spirits keeping us from prayer.  Yet there are times that we can pray even with distractions around us.

At one time in my life I was a teacher.  There was nothing as intense for both teacher and student as the time of state testing. Cheering rallies were used to pump the children up for test time.  Testing tips were sent home for parents to read. Months of practice problems and situations were done in the classroom.  However, I wasn’t allowed to pray with my students.   The day of the test I prayed silently over each child’s bowed head as pencils darkened the bubbles inside white circles. No government edict could stop me from silent prayer. When their eyes met mine at the finish, I knew I had done all for them that I could do.

I now live in a sanctuary of quiet dogwoods, chirping birds, and a frog’s low croak. A doe with gorgeous eyes graced my back yard recently. A gentle rain is the only noise as I write this.  Spring break for my grandchildren isn’t so far in the past. The sounds of young voices, golf shots, and swimming feet are now a memory.  I will pray for them but I can’t see their faces.  Children and their fun noises are truly a gift from God.

Easter and the advent of spring bring a spiritual awakening. Life is definitely different for me now. Special days and celebrations take me to holidays of the past.

Memories without the other memory maker penetrate the tissues of my soul. Right now the traffic signal of my life is on yellow—a time for cautious decisions.  Can you hear Him? Listen to the quiet.

Faith Column – Ann Coogler

Daily Journal and Messenger, Seneca, SC

April 18, 2009

(With revisions-April 16,2012)

To assist myself and maybe some of you who have reached the senior citizen discount arena, here is a little humor to lighten your day.

You are a senior soul if:

You look forward to the adrenalin rush of your 50+ vitamins.

You’ve read all the magazines in more than one doctor’s office.

9:00 pm is past your bedtime

You’re looking forward to a nap by 9:00 am.

Your grandchildren want to use you for a report on fossils.

The highlight of your day is your annual checkup

You buy drugstore glasses to help you find your glasses, lose those,

then have to have your thirty something neighbor

drive you back to the drugstore to get another pair.

You are a senior soul if:

6 am is late in the day.

The centerpiece on your dining room is your new blood pressure kit.

You know the ambulance drivers by their first names.

You tape the medicine commercials for later viewing.

When the commercials announce the side effects of the medicine you are on

it throws you into a panic attack, resulting in more medicine.

And finally, you don’t dread birthdays when you consider the alternative!

     Just to let you know, I didn’t borrow these fun facts from a website, internet jokes or any of my friends. They are the product of a warped senior brain…mine!

Note:  This is the time of the year that heralds band concerts and end of school activities for my grandchildren. Three months of the summer I travel in order to see these six wonderful grands before they grow up, up, and away. I will be reducing my story contributions to once per week, unless I have a break in action.   Have a grand day!

Let me be quick to say that not everyone is comfortable within the walls of a church.  The artistry of nature is a truly holy experience. There are saints within my family who didn’t attend church, but I feel certain they are watching over us as guardian angels.  We will be together at the foot of the cross.

Each of my church families has celebrated the Lenten season in a different way.  I thought it might be interesting to share my blended “spiritual soup” with you:

1. Moravian – Calvary Moravian, Winston-Salem, NC
2. Presbyterian – Easley First Presbyterian, Easley, SC
3. Wesleyan – Easley First Wesleyan, Easley, SC
4. Evangelical Lutheran – St. John’s Lutheran, Walhalla, SC
5. Missouri Synod Lutheran – Eternal Shepherd Lutheran, Seneca, SC
6. Baptist-Open Door Baptist, Walhalla, SC

I’ve also enjoyed the rich experience of having friends who are Seventh Day Adventists, Catholic, Jewish, Buddhist, and Greek.  I’ve had interesting courses in World Religions and learned from conversations with those who are part of different families of God. I was grateful to my Jehovah’s Witness friend who gave loving care to my first husband when he suffered.

I became especially close to the parents of two students who had both Baptist and Buddhism as the practice of faith in their family. When the young mother died tragically, the grandfather traveled from Iran to honor his deceased daughter-in-law in a Baptist church funeral. He bowed low to me and said, “I have heard of you, the esteemed teacher.” He took my hand, kissed it, and cried.  A week after the funeral my daughter and I enjoyed a typical Iranian meal prepared by the esteemed grandfather, his grieving son, and my two precious students; now motherless.

The commonalities of celebrating the Lenten season are many.  Each celebration of the last week in Christ’s life has been stirred into a blend that defines me.   Easter events that have been meaningful to me are:

1. Threading flowers through a cross of wire in a church yard on Easter morning.
2. Entering the church with my family of four while waving palm branches
3. Placing wet ashes on our foreheads at Ash Wednesday services to denote the mourning  surrounding the sacrifice of Christ
4. The thrill of a sunrise along the banks of Lake Keowee in the quiet perfection of dawn.
5. Choirs walking to their lofts following a youth with a purple draped cross.
6. Special Easter music
7. The blend of the old and young in a church family depicting the events of the Crucifixion ; followed by the joy of the resurrection.
8. Following my friend through the Stations of the Cross within the home of her Catholic Church family.
9. Giving up chocolate during forty days and nights of Lent—yeah  for the first time I did it!!
10. Sunrise services of the Moravian Church

Bill and I did the “church flip dance” rotating between his church in Clemson and mine in Walhalla. There wasn’t an ounce of prejudice within my late husband. In the past he traveled to Iran with his job. He experienced a friendship with his driver and bodyguard, “Sam -Sam” Bednar.

Some of our celebrations mix the fun of Peter Rabbit for small children with story books showing the love of Christ on the cross. My dad gave my sister and I Easter baskets until we were in our twenties . He traded the baskets for denominations of folding money, (that’s too punny!)

I have three Moravian friends who have become South Carolinians. Tonight I’ll attend “The Prayer Path”* at First Wesleyan Church/Alive, Central, SC. with my friend Dusty Harrison. Dusty is a product of the Winston-Salem church of my childhood. He has become a representative for Clemson Greek Intervarsity Ministry Intervarsity Christian Fellowship is devoted to helping fraternity and sorority members discover a personal relationship with God.

Whether you celebrate the Easter holiday surrounded by the artistry of nature or within a church, be blessed.  Enjoy peace, rest, your family, and be grateful. Thanksgiving and Easter go hand in hand!

“For this is My blood, which seals the covenant between God and His people. It is poured out to forgive the sins of many.” Matthew 26:28

“Go ye therefore and teach all nations baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” Matthew 28:19

*”The Prayer Path” click on the church calendar for April 5th for more information. Too late for this year, but visit them next year!

Visit First Wesleyan Church/Alive on Facebook

Pretty Place Chapel, Camp Greenville,

near Caesar’s Head-South Carolina

Maundy Thursday (also known as Holy Thursday) is commemorated with the serving of communion to celebrate the Last Supper of Jesus and his disciples. The next day a Crucifixion Hour service is held at 2:15 pm. At the completion of the service, the church bell tolls once for each of the 33 years of Jesus’ life. A traditional Moravian Lovefeast is served Friday evening to end the day. The Easter Lovefeast differs from the Christmas Lovefeast. The physical differences are that candles aren’t used as part of the service and music is played in keeping with the Lenten season. The Easter Lovefeast can be compared to the family meal that takes place after the funeral service of a loved one. The occasion of Good Friday is set aside to memorialize our Lord who suffered and died for us.  At a funeral to memorialize the deceased, we sing favorite hymns and break bread together when the service is over. The Easter Lovefeast is a simple meal of the Lovefeast bun and a cup of sweetened, milky coffee. All denominations are welcomed to participate as the family of God.

Saturday morning the Moravians continue to memorialize the life of Christ through caring for the graves of deceased loved ones. Any Saturday morning before Easter Sunday will find families washing the graves of family members and placing flowers on them. From midnight Saturday until approximately 4:30 a.m. Sunday Moravian bands play throughout the city. The sunrise service at 6 am brings Passion Week to a close with the refreshment of the Resurrection. Ascension Day follows on Easter Monday.  As a child,  I remember the closing of all schools and businesses in Winston-Salem to commemorate Easter Monday. Sadly, this is no longer in practice.

Last Easter the numbness of Bill’s death in February left me unable to experience feeling of any kind at the newness of spring. It still makes me teary to see new flowers emerge. It didn’t matter that Bill had seen a flower bloom many times through the 79 years of his life. Each spring was more beautiful than the last to him.  Many times he would call me outside with the excitement of a child seeing a daffodil for the first time.

We also have a very unusual white rose that blooms any time of the year. Our friend, Peck, who lived here before us, planted it in memory of her husband.  When Peck moved she said, “take care of my babies”, (her flowers). We rarely did anything to the white rose and it continues to bloom.  Bill and I always thought our late spouses were giving their approval of our marriage through the awakening of the rose all year round.

As I removed the dead leaves and flower heads from my shrubs this morning I thought of how our lives are like the seasons. The dead leaves are the past that we strive to shed when the hope of Christ enters our hearts.  The tiny blooms will come into full flower if we allow Christ to awaken us.

“Sleepers Awake”* winter is past. May your Easter be filled with roses of the heart that bloom all year round.

*”Sleepers Awake” is a church cantata by Johann Sebastian Bach used by Moravian brass bands to commemorate the dawn of the Resurrection hour.

Thanks to: Jean Lewis Fordham and Bishop Lane Sapp for assistance with this writing.

2008: Working in God's Acre, Norian Fordham, Bill Coogler, my son, Mike Massey,and Jean Lewis Fordham (Overseer)-I had gone to fetch water for the overseer! lol!

Golf Term                                                            Lay Term

1.   Open face – club turned out                   sandwich with no lid

2.   Close face – club is turned in                  sandwich with the lid

3.    Stroke – a swing in golf                           a neurological accident

4.    Hook   – a severe turn of the golf ball   to snare a fish

5.    Pin – the flag on the green                      a fastener for clothing

6.    Mulligan- an extra shot that                  Irish stew with meat and potatoes

doesn’t count against you

7.  Bunker-a sand trap                                        a relative, with smelly feet,

who wears out his welcome

8.  Tight lies-name of golf clubs                         a party animal telling

untruths when he/she is

tight

9.     Whiff – to swing at, but not                     to smell the relative’s (the bunker’s), unwashed

hit a golf ball                                                         feet

10.    Red tee – the mark from which a          the color of the female’s T-shirt in a wet T-shirt

female golfer may hit                                          contest at an all male golf tournament

THE GOLFER’S GRAPEVINE SAYS…

• It does rain on the golf course and hail does come in golf ball sizes. 
  
• Stories of a golfer’s good game are often a “bad lie.”
• Whenever a golfer plays in rain or snow his golf score and his IQ may be equal.  Score 70=IQ 70, using the love for mushing in the rain and snow quotient.
• Golf clubs also top, spade, slice, and chop.  However, they are not $19.95 and there is never a buy one, get one free deal.

One more note as we make the turn from golf to other stories:

Old Dog…New Trick

Here I stand on the first tee box,

With my brand new driver and my new golf socks.

I hold my head steady, I’m more than ready,

I take a big swing into the ball,

So, why’s it still sittin’ here y’all?

The Coogler Family recommends the following golf courses:

Walker Course - Clemson University

The Links at Stono Ferry - Hollywood, SC (near Edisto-stick with me kids, you’ll go to Hollywood! Hollywood just got a new ‘Hoggly Woggly’ aka Piggly Wiggly!)

Pickens Country Club – Pickens, SC

Keowee Key Golf and Country Club - Salem, SC

Rumbling Bald Golf Course – Lake Lure, NC

Southern Oaks – Easley, SC

The Plantation Course – Edisto Island, SC (Do not search for lost golf balls in this alligator habitat.)