Be My Guest / Spreading The Love / Week 4 / Day 4
sounds shared by Sara Pooley
Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings - 100 Days, 100 Nights - 100 Days, 100 Nights
[ providence ]
Original words by Brandon Fields
Sacraments [ pt. 4 ]
Each mile that passed the more self-conscious he became. Instead of the road calming him like so many times before he’d been afflicted with the biggest ball of fear in his throat he’d ever tried to swallow. It seemed that every fourth billboard message was related to religion or God in some way. He had never seen “Jesus lives” tagged on the underpasses before, but this time he counted 30 by the time he reached Columbia, SC. He was plenty familiar with the Pro Life messages strewn well funded across country, but he was not use to seeing so many consecutive homemade billboards. People would paint messages that would spread for a half mile. There was one about five miles back painted on old plywood on the other side of the highway, assumedly put there by the land owners, along a fence line that read
You – Cant – Escape - The Wrath - of GOD.
After every one he’d tense up and think to himself about his own beliefs, or the fact that he had not thought about his own beliefs, or, if he’d even actually had any. The subject was something that was passed over in his mind even though he was no stranger to religion. The church he was baptized in and attended with his family still stood in his hometown and, as far as he knew, kept good attendance. He had even gone to catholic schools up until the end of his sophomore year of high school, when he got kicked out three weeks before years end. He had gotten caught smoking pot in the woods behind the school before first period. The principle and the superintendent were meeting with a surveyor to get an estimate on building a nature trail and a picnic area early that morning that would be built that summer.
After transferring to public school the last two years seemed like a blur in his head. He was lucky enough to be a gifted athlete in basketball and baseball, and when he tried out for the football team he was given a starting spot as a running back on the varsity squad. This allowed him to make friends quickly, but, before he knew it, it was over. That’s how it all seemed now, as he was running it through his head driving down this unfamiliar highway. He escaped with a lucky C average Diploma and no clue what to do next. It was that senior class trip to the City a few weeks after graduation when he got the notion to move to Detroit. Remembering now, that was also when he first thought about the idea of pursuing business. He’d been hoping for a chance to play ball and wishing for a scholarship but never garnered anyone’s attention. He applied to a few Colleges in Michigan but never got good word back from them noting that his ACT/SAT scores didn’t match the qualifications. Like many young athletes he didn’t have a strong focus on academics. Forcing him into the work force. He got a job at a factory assembling hydraulic presses during the day and attended Jackson Community College a few miles north of his Summit Township home.
In a whirlwind and cotton mouthed he slipped off an exit into Orangeburg, South Carolina just as the sun was going down. His head was quite literally flashing images of his life like b roll on a broken projector. All the details thought long forgotten came to the surface. He pulled into little the little cricket convenience store. For the first time since he left Detroit the bucolic feelings of this little town gave him a sense of calm.