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Good Morning Nanty Glo!
Sunday, February 25 2001

Musical memories of high school years

Again this week I'm glad to have a "guest" writer for the body of the Sunday entry. This will wrap up, for now, the musical topic. If you have another suggestion, please write to me or to the whole list today. If not, I'll choose another to begin tomorrow. Here are several I'm considering; if you'd like to "vote" for one, I would appreciate that, too (though all will probably be got around to eventually). I'd much prefer to have topics that get lots of feedback, so if there's one that "rattles your cage," please speak up.

  • Our teachers and mentors
  • Winter fun and mishaps
  • FAQs about the Nanty Glo Home Page (answers to Frequently Asked Questions)
  • Growing up then vs. now

    The following letter is on the current topic, popular music. I also received another, by Tim McCullough, that has comments related to that topic, but I'm not sure he's on this list. So please check it out on the Forum letters section —Jon

Dear Jon,

I am Jim Martin's wife, Judy, and I just wanted to tell you that Jim has me hooked on your Nanty Glo page. I really enjoy it and look forward to it coming everyday.

I also wanted to mention my music during high school. We had a Youth Center in Ridgway, Pa., where I grew up. We went to the Youth Center on Friday nights and to the Roller Skating rink on Saturday nights if you had a job during the week and had the money to pay for getting in. Mostly, we baby-sat.

The Youth Center had a membership card and you couldn't get in unless you had one. There were adult chaperones there all the time. It was during the years of 1959 and 1962 that they started having singers and groups come in. I had the privilege of seeing Bill Haley and the Comets in person and still have a picture of their group in my high school memories box. I can remember sitting on the bottom of the stage and looking right up at him and his group. There is a lot that has slipped my memory of my youth, but this was not one of them.

Most of the songs you and others have mentioned were ones that I enjoyed also. I can remember racing to get home after school because there was a 15-minute show with the popular singers of the time on just about the time I would walk in the door. Also, the Hit Parade was popular at that time.

Thanks for listening to me.

Judy Martin

Fast Thinker

A mother was preparing pancakes for her sons, Collin, aged 5, and Ryan, aged 3. The boys began to argue over who would get the first pancake. Their mother saw the opportunity for a moral lesson. She turned to the boys and said, "If Jesus were sitting here, He would say, "Let my brother have the first pancake. I can wait."

Collin turned to his younger brother and said, "Ryan, you be Jesus."

Sent by Mike Harrison

A father's choice

After a few of the usual Sunday evening hymns, the church's pastor slowly stood up, walked over to the pulpit and, before he began his sermon for the evening, briefly introduced a guest minister who was in the service. In the introduction, the pastor told the congregation that the guest minister was one of his dearest childhood friends and that he wanted him to have a few moments to greet the church and share whatever he felt would be appropriate for the service. With that, an elderly man stepped up to the pulpit and began to speak.

"A father, his son, and a friend of his son were sailing off the Pacific coast," he began, "when a fast approaching storm blocked any attempt to get back to the shore. The waves were so high that even though the father was an experienced sailor, he could not keep the boat upright and the three were swept into the ocean as the boat capsized."

The old man hesitated for a moment, making eye contact with two teenagers who were, for the first time since the service began, looking somewhat interested in his story. The aged minister continued with his story, "Grabbing a rescue line, the father had to make the most excruciating decision of his life: to which boy he would throw the other end of the lifeline. He had only seconds to make the decision. The father knew that his son was a Christian and he also knew that his son's friend was not. The agony of his decision could not be matched by the torrent of waves.

"As the father yelled out, 'I love you, Son!' he threw out the lifeline to his son's friend. By the time the father had pulled the friend back to the capsized boat, his son had disappeared beneath the raging swells into the black of night. His body was never recovered."

By this time, the two teenagers were sitting up straight in the pew, anxiously awaiting the next words to come out of the old minister's mouth. "The father," he continued, "knew his son would step into eternity with Jesus and he could not bear the thought of his son's friend stepping into an eternity without Jesus.

Therefore, he sacrificed his son to save the son's friend. How great is the love of God that He should do the same for us. Our heavenly Father sacrificed his only begotten son that we could be saved. I urge you to accept His offer to rescue you and take a hold of the lifeline he is throwing out to you in this service."

With that, the old man turned and sat down in his chair as silence filled the room. The pastor walked slowly to the pulpit and delivered a brief sermon with an invitation at the end. However, no one responded to the appeal. Within minutes after the service ended, the two teenagers were at the old man's side. "That was a nice story," politely said one of the boys, "but I don't think it was very realistic for a father to give up his only son's life in hopes that the other boy would become a Christian."

"Well, you've got a point there," the old man replied, glancing down at his worn Bible. A big smile broadened his narrow face as he once again looked up at the boys and said, "It sure isn't very realistic, is it? But I'm standing here today to tell you that story gives me a glimpse of what it must have been like for God to give up his son for me. You see—I was that father, and your pastor was my son's friend."

Sent by Bob Kennedy
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