NOVEMBER 18.1837

A JOURNEY TO SALEM

A.L. Collins·Saturday, November 18, 2017

Moravian Daily Text for Saturday, November 18, 2017

Psalm 128

Daniel 5:17–6:18

2 John

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined. Isaiah 9:2

Paul wrote: Jesus Christ gave himself for us that he might redeem us from all iniquity and purify for himself a people of his own who are zealous for good deeds. Titus 2:14

Radiant Christ, you are the beacon of hope and the light in a world of darkness. Empower us to spread your light to others by feeding the hungry, giving clothes to the naked, and providing shelter for the homeless. Amen.

The Story:

I wonder what the weather was like on that day. The day that William and Louisa Collins loaded up their eleven children on a wagon for a journey from Germanton to Salem. An opportunity awaited them in that Moravian Village. Frances Fries was opening a cotton mill on the outskirts of the village. It was a big brick imposing building, somewhat out of place in an agricultural and trading village. Still, it was the type of entrepreneurial spirit that embodied the early Moravian settlers. The Village had grown since its founding in 1766. By 1837, it was no longer a congregational communal refuge of eastern European Protestants. The Brethren were slowly giving way to the inevitable changes that would move their religious hamlet into an industrial city. On that cold day in November a family of yeomen farmers was just looking for a place to live, work, raise a family and most of all survive. Mr. Fries was happy for the Collins family to join his business. A large family of able-bodied workers, young and old alike, were needed. He provided them a place to live in the Mill. There they met the Casey family from Surry County and the Lumley family from Wake County. Collectively these families provided Mr. Fries with a workforce sufficient to operate one of the first cotton mills in this part of North Carolina.  The factory spun its first yarn, November 29, 1837.

William and Louisa were married in 1815 in nearby Orange County. Hillsborough was the early capital of the state of North Carolina. A village established by Eno Indians centuries before the white man came to the Carolinas, it was the home of Collins and Hastings family. Andrew Collins and Isabella Hastings were his parents. Louisa was known by her nickname “Vicey” and was a part of the Hudler family from Craven County. Her uncles fought in the Revolution and earned land grants in Tennessee for their service. Her lineage can be traced to the early settlers of New Bern. How she met William is really unknown, but her influence on him led him to leave his family in Orange County and travel with the Hudler clan to the backwoods of Stokes County. They were less than 20 years old when they married. On the cold November day in 1837, they traveled with eleven children. The youngest was Alfred Norman was who was born in 1833. Named after a well- known Methodist evangelist, he would grow from being a rebellious young man to become a sought-after blacksmith. He didn’t remember the journey, but as he told the story as an old man, he nevertheless understood clearly how significant that day was. Young Norman had five older brothers. James would go to work in a newspaper, the Peoples Press. Andrew would become the apprentice to Thomas Siddall, the chief mechanic of the Fries Mill. David found himself in the construction business and was a bricklayer. Willy, and John Henry were mill workers. John Henry died in the family quarters of the Mill in March of 1838, a victim of some infection that could not be cured. He was only 15. William borrowed money from Mr. Fries to bury him. The Moravians gave him a gravesite in the Stranger’s Plot in God’s Acre. He was among the first of my family to come to Salem. The first of many generations to die here.

The girls were a part of the mill family workers as well. Mary was the oldest. She met her husband Edward Holland in the mill. They were married in 1839 but a year later Edward died. Two years after, on October 15, 1842, Mary died. Her service was attended to by two ministers, Moravian Brother Van Vleck, who visited her during her last illness and Reverend Blech of New Jerusalem Methodist Church. She was only 22 years old, one of the earliest members of what is now Centenary Methodist Church. Moravians were attentive to their new neighbors, but their services were in German and their customs pious. The Collins family were just workers, not really Moravians. They may have been loved but they really did not fit into the established society of the village.   Evangelist Alfred Norman attracted the attention of Louisa. She was an early member of the Methodist inspired Mulberry Tree Society. New Jerusalem Methodist Church, housed in an unpretentious building on the corner of Liberty and Sixth Street was her place of worship.

In 1849, Rachel Collins married Robert Fisher. Unfortunately, not more is known about her or her life.

Elizabeth “Betsy” Collins was the third girl born to William and Louisa in 1827. She married a farmer, Ezekiel Buchanan Petree who lived in Germanton. Zeke was quite the story. He was an ardent Unionist, drafted into service by the Confederacy and was accused of being a spy during his service in the Civil War. Betsy lived to see the new century, dying in 1907 at home was surrounded by her children in Germanton.

Louisa Collins was named after her mother. She joined her in the Mulberry Tree Society. She was married to Alfred Stevens in 1859. They probably met in the mill. Alfred, like many young men of Salem, enlisted in the Confederate Army. He was assigned to Company D, 21st Infantry Regiment in May 1861. He died September 17, 1862, while fighting in the Sharpsburg, Maryland. He was 22 years old. Louisa married William East a year later. They resided in Salem the rest of their lives. Vicey lived with them. She died in 1890 while tending her garden.

Martha Patsy Collins married a Moravian Henry Hughs in April of 1852. After securing permission of the Salem Elders, Henry moved into the abandoned “Potter’s House” which may be the old original “Builder’s House”. The Builder’s House was the first house built in Salem in 1766. The description of the house Henry into which he moved his new wife could very well be this structure. We know something more of the Collins clan because the Elders made an interesting comment when giving permission. It seems that he wished for his mother in law to move in with them. Since she was a non-Moravian, the Elders gave permission noting that Vicey was “known to be a woman of upright character” but cautioned Henry not to allow his wife’s youngest brother to live with them as he was a person of “bad reputation”. The next entry about Uncle Henry was a reference to his need for counseling for his affinity to strong drink. Sadly Henry, being unable to refrain from strong drink, was eventually dismissed from membership in the Moravian Church. Patsy remained in good standing and is buried in God’s Acre.

Willy Collins worked in the mill alongside his brothers and sisters. He married Caroline Ellis Saunders in 1849. He died two years later. Then interestingly enough, Caroline married Willy’s little brother, Norman in 1854. Norman was the younger brother that the Salem Elders were concerned about when Henry Hughs petitioned to move Vicey into his home. Interestingly that as Henry was discharged from the Moravian Church due to his affinity for alcohol, his brother in law Norman became a well-respected and much sought-after blacksmith as well as a dedicated member of Home Moravian Church. Norman and Caroline are buried in God’s Acre.

When Fogle Brother’s Lumber company moved to a new location, an advertisement featured Blacksmith Norman Collins.

William Collins died sometime in 1848. Records of the Fries Mill indicate him as head of household in March, but Vicey is head of household in April. Nothing more is known about him. The records show his continuous work in the mill from 1837 until his death. The mill closed in 1852 which is probably the reason why Uncle Henry was petitioning for Vicey to move with him and Patsy into the Potter’s House. I assume that Vicey eventually moved in with Louisa and William East as she was living there when she died on February 7, 1885. Her obituary notes she had eleven children but fails to note where she was buried. I suspect she was buried in at the Liberty Cemetery which was the public cemetery for the town of Winston. No doubt a very strong woman, Vicey was the first of several incredibly strong matriarchs of the Collins Clan. I imagine her to be a devout Christian lady whose life of hard work made her wise and beloved. Perhaps in time, we may discover more about her. I suspect that she was an early member of the Centenary Methodist Church whose records I have yet to access.

David Collins is my great, great, grandfather. His relationship to the mill is not clear. His presence there is noted in several entries, but he was not a mill worker. He is an interesting man. Married to Jesse Lumley’s daughter, Malinda (nee Belinda), he lived in the West Salem community but was not a member of the Moravian Church. Census records, public records, and records of the Moravian Church identify him as a bricklayer. He must have been more than just a common worker. He seems to have been the purchaser of one of the first lots offered in the Town of Winston in 1849 when the county of Forsyth was formed. Trouble is I am not sure he ever paid for the lot. There are no deed records indicating that he was ever the owner of the lot. Still, county records identify him as the purchaser but also indicates that by 1852, he still owed money for the purchase. There is also a map indicating the “Collins Tract” near Bethabara.  Again, there are no deed records to confirm the ownership, but I suspect David and perhaps other members of the family may have tended land to supplement their income from the mill. If so, the Moravians were apt to “quit rent” land and this tract may be one of those tracts. What we do know of David the Bricklayer is that he died in an accident in 1862 where he fell from a scaffold. Two entries in the Moravian Diary reference this. He was buried in the Liberty Cemetery. At his death, he left 9 children with ages ranging from 2 to 15 years old. The woolen mill had begun operation by that time in the same location as the Fries Cotton Mill. It is apparent that his family worked there. His second youngest son, his namesake, David Anderson Collins started work there in 1866 at age 9.

David Anderson Collins is my great grandfather about whom we know a few things of interest. First, he was a mill worker all his life. He was an early resident of West Salem building a house in 1887 at 713 Mulberry Street which stands to this day. He married a fellow mill worker, Laura Bolton whose family lived in Guilford County. According to newspaper accounts, he raised pigs. When the newspaper erroneously reported his pig weighed 174lb, he demanded and received a correction. The pig was a hefty 374lb hog! He was said to have been of diminutive stature. His nickname was “Yancey” which I assume is derived from his middle name Anderson. He was a member of Home Moravian Church and there are records of his adult baptism. But he also was most likely an early member of the Christ Moravian Fellowship. Laura was a member there when she died in 1939 and the family has always considered Christ Moravian as our home congregation. Like his father, David Anderson died relatively young as well. His memoir indicates an illness which to me sounds like “brown lung”. The interesting scene that is recounted in the memoir is his gathering of his children around his deathbed. He told them not to worry, for “God’s will, not his own will” would be done. It is no doubt a lesson that my grandfather took to heart. At his death, Laura was left to raise, ten children, the second youngest of whom was my grandfather, Harry Lee Collins, age 5. David Anderson Collins is buried in God’s Acre.

Laura Bolton Collins was quite the tough lady. At age 45 with ten children, she found herself a widow. Fortunately, she was part of the mill village of West Salem. Interconnected family relationships and a strong church family no doubt provided her with much comfort and support. Uncle Mathias Lumley was the manager of the Fries Mill and had plenty of jobs for the family. It is noted that there is a foreclosure of the Mulberry Street house in the court records, but the purchaser at the foreclosure sale was Laura. It seems Yancey died without a will. In such case, the house would be owned jointly by his widow and her children. It was easier to foreclose the home and allow Laura to purchase it than to sort out the interest of minor children in real estate. Someone at Wachovia Bank was helping her out it would seem.

1905 was a very difficult year for Laura. She was tending to two very sick family members in her home while raising young children. Yancey died in January of 1905. Grace Parmelia had just turned 13 but had been a sickly child most of her life. She had a chronic debilitating illness that sapped her strength and left her bedridden for lengths of time. While looking for a picture of Yancey in an old secretary desk, my wife found a tintype in an unmarked envelope. The picture had resided in that old desk for decades only to emerge at a time when I was researching the family to the point that I could identify the person in the picture. The picture was of Grace in her confirmation dress, taken Palm Sunday 1905. She died the following September. Her memoir is very sweet but very sad. Her epitaph was carefully chosen. She is buried in God’s Acre.

Grandma Collins as her children called her, joined Christ Moravian Church in 1898. Her family was raised in the traditions of the Moravian Church. She attended church on a regular basis and one Sunday toward the end of her life was honored as one of the oldest mothers in attendance on Mother’s Day. She had a bedroom suite which was made by Frank Vogler and Sons. It was a high bed and was given to me as a baptism gift by my Godfather Uncle Glenn Collins. It was refinished by Uncle Claude Bodsford. Aunt Sissie Coe always said that Grandma Collins did not like her and on one occasion while visiting with us, she fell from the bed claiming Grandma pushed her out during the night! My father Harry Lee Collins, Jr. used to sit on her lap in a big wooden rocker and she would slip him quarters or candy... he preferred candy! She had to be a tough and resilient lady. Her home on Mulberry Street was often shared by her children who throughout the depression often did not have any other place to reside.

Harry Lee Collins, Sr. was but 5 years old when his father died. He had scant memories of him. He dropped out of school to work in Winkler Bakery and soon learned the trade. He spent his working life as an itinerant baker. Early in his life, he drove a bread truck and on one such trip he and his co-worker Dewey Caldwell met a couple of sisters. He captured the eye of Blye Lewellyn. Dewey snagged Geneva Lewellyn. Harry and Blye were married in 1919. Having no place else to live they moved into the spacious home of Frank Lewellyn, Blye’s father. Grandpa Lewellyn was a builder of some success, who like most lost nearly everything during the Great Depression He was a tall man who was twice married whose lineage goes back to the earliest settlers in Virginia.

My father remembers accompanying Grandpa Lewellyn on his yearly camping trips to Florida where he sought relief for the asthma of his wife. Blye worked as a practical nurse. Harry Lee often had to travel out of town to secure work, one time as far away as Star and Biscoe, NC. They lived for a time in Lexington off Center Street but most of the time they resided in a rental house in West Salem.

Harry Lee Collins, Sr. is a man whom I affectionately knew as “Doop Doop”. He died in 1971 when I was 14 years old. My memories of him are of a man whose life was diminished by emphysema. He loved his family, his dog Penny and his Camel cigarettes. I wrote about him in a piece entitled Doop Doop’s Prayer. Therein a recount the most important lesson I learned from Doop Doop.  It was one first taught by his father.  You can read the entire piece at this link:

http://privatekeep.blogspot.com/201...

“I am not sure when Doop Doop learned this prayer. Nevertheless, I am sure it did not come to him from some inspiring sermon or some revelation from a study of scripture. It is a prayer of one who has struggled through life and has learned the importance of a power greater than his own. He might have learned it as a child who lamented over being part of a fatherless family, or as a young teenager forced to work to help put food on the table. Perhaps, he learned it as a young man, struggling through the Depression with three hungry children and no job or as a father, who watched his only son go off to war, and wondered if he would return. Maybe it was a prayer of an old man, whose life was diminished by sickness and poverty. I don’t know which time Doop Doop first knelt in the garden of Gethsemane, but I am convinced that he understood the importance of submission to God’s will rather than his own.”

Blye Lewellyn was known to her family as “Mom”. She loved her children and grandchildren intensely. She would scrimp and save all year to buy all the little children in the family Christmas presents. The last job Doop Doop had was at Western Electric. He was a baker in the factory cafeteria. They lived on Tech Avenue not a mile from the plant. Mom would take the bus downtown to Christmas shop. Often she would purchase more than she could carry and would take the bus home.  Then she persuaded the driver to wait as she made trip to her house to unload the gifts only to return to the bus stop and travel again downtown to shop some more.  She was a member of Christ Moravian Church and is among the first to be buried in the new section of God's acre.

My father was Harry Lee Collins, Jr. He was a child raised in West Salem. There he learned hard work and the value of friends and family. He never graduated from Gray High School and enlisted in the US Army Air Force giving up a promising career at Chester’s Eat a Bite in Lexington, N.C. He met my Mom, Frances Norman Collins on a blind date. She was the daughter of a Yadkin County farmer/barber/ store owner. They dated less than five times and knew each other no more than three months before they eloped. He was a mess sergeant stationed in Fort Jackson, South Carolina. Mom followed him from base to base until he was shipped to Saipan in 1944. Returning after the war he secured a job at RJ Reynolds Tobacco Company where he worked for 32 years. He provided my sister and me many opportunities that he never enjoyed. We lived a middle-class lifestyle. We always had food to eat and new clothes to wear. He instilled in us a pride in work and personal responsibility. After spending 20 years traveling around the country in his beloved Airstream Travel Trailer, he died in 2003.

His grave is adorned with a trumpet. He loved playing in the Moravian Band. Learning to play trumpet at age 50 was one of his proudest accomplishments. If you see Rick Pender’s picture entitled “The Bandsman”. he is the one in the red pants.

Frances Norman Collins is the daughter of Henry Arvil Norman and Bess Reese Norman. Her Norman family tree dates into the 1500’s in England. Norman brothers arrived in Virginia in 1645 as the indentured servants of Major John Anders. Her great-grandmother, Sarah Vogler Reese, connects our family with some of the earliest settlers in Wachovia. She was born February 14, 1925, and lives today in a nursing home in Clemmons. A tough, loving lady, she has been the inspiration of the family in every endeavor. A spectacular cook, she stopped working at RJR Tobacco when I was born in 1957. Known as the best Grade Mom ever by one of my first- grade classmates some 40 years after we attended Moore School together illustrates her impact on others. But for me, she has been my inspiration for academic achievement. She provided me the expectation of success along with unconditional love. Another fine matriarch of the Collins Family of Forsyth County.

So why do I write all this today? 180 years ago, William and Louisa Collins decided to make their home in Salem, North Carolina.  Work at the Salem Cotton Mill was not easy. Workers toiled from sunrise to past sunset, six days a week, often alongside slaves rented by Mr. Fries from neighboring farms. For 150 of those years, the family lived within five miles of that cotton mill on Brookstown Avenue that stands there today.  So much of who I am and who my children are and what my grandchildren shall become can be found in the values learned by generations of factory workers. Our story is not unique, but it is one that needs to be told and remembered.  Our forefathers worked hard to survive.   

I have researched my family history for many years. Details are set forth in Ancestry.com “Collins Family Tree of Forsyth County”  There is more work to be done, but I now know who our family is and more importantly of the struggles that the family has endured. Because of getting to know these family members better, I realize that it took 140 years before family members graduated from High School! It is only my generation that was given the opportunity to attend college and work outside of a factory.  Family members...please remember:

"We inherit from our ancestors’ gifts so often taken for granted. Each of us contains within this inheritance of soul. We are links between the ages, containing past and present expectations, sacred memories and future promise." — Edward Sellner

Today, I shall visit the grave of John Henry Collins in God’s Acre, in Old Salem.  I will place a flower on his grave and offer a humble prayer of thanksgiving, remembering the psalter recommended in today’s daily text.

Psalm 128:

1 Blessed are all who fear the Lord, who walk in obedience to him.

2 You will eat the fruit of your labor; blessings and prosperity will be yours.

3 Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house; your children will be like olive shoots around your table.

4 Yes, this will be the blessing for the man who fears the Lord.

5 May the Lord bless you from Zion; may you see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life.

6 May you live to see your children’s children— peace be on Israel.

EPAPHRODITUS

EULOGY FOR A FRIEND

“The Savior’s Blood and Righteousness- My Beauty is my glorious dress- Thus well arrayed I need not fear- When in his presence I appear”  - Zinzendorf

 Whenever I ran into to Dewitt Rhoades, we always had the same exchange of greetings.  Out of habit I would say:  “Dewitt, how are you doing?”,  and he would respond:  “I couldn’t be better unless I was a Collins”

Well…I know today…..I couldn’t be better unless I was a “Rhoades”.  It is my honor to speak to you about my friend Dewitt.

“Death Where is Thy Sting?  Grave, Where is Thy Victory” writes the Apostle Paul.  I don’t know about you but when a good friend dies, I don’t feel very victorious, and I sure do feel the sting of death.  But I am comforted by the observation of Holocaust survivor, Corrie Ten Boom who said:  “I have learned to hold important things in my life loosely, because it hurts so when the Lord pries them from my tightly clenched fist”

That is how we held Dewitt….and in truth how he held each of us.  I really believe that he became a friend to each and every person he met.   And each of us here today feels the pain of the Lord ripping him from our tightly clenched fist.

Some years ago, I listened to a sermon by Dr. Mark Corts on a character of the Bible about whom I knew very little.   He had a funny name.  Epaphroditus.   He is mentioned twice in Paul’s letter to the Church at Phillipi.  Evidently he was sent by the church to assist Paul while he was in prison in Rome.  Paul describes him as my brother, my fellow worker, my comrade in arms.

That is how I describe Dewitt.

He is my brother in Christ, my fellow worker in His Kingdom, my faithful friend and my comrade in arms.

He wore so many hats in this community.  He was stalwart member of this church serving where needed, from the choir, to the boards, to the Sunday School class.  But his most important role was his presence in the lives of others.  One person responding to a Facebook post about his passing said:  “Dewitt was like a second father to me growing up in church…he was always a support to the Church family…a real father to his children” 

He was a boy scout leader….member of various civic clubs….on many boards, commissions and positions of public responsibility….all non-paying, unelected jobs, always far from the public spotlight….I served with Dewitt for 5 of his 38 years as Trustee at Forsyth Technical Community College…his commitment to the mission of that school was a lifelong passion….the number of people he touched both directly and indirectly can never be measured but the community has been enriched by his presence and the Kingdom of God has been enlarged by his witness.

He was one of the best neighbors anyone could have.  He raised a garden and would be seen taking bags of his vegetables to friends and neighbors throughout Kernersville.  He never lost touch with his friends, often calling them whenever he had not seen them in a while, just to check on them.   A Facebook commentator remembered:  “He used to call me at least once a year just to see how I was doing.”   Robert Joyce who is as yellow dog Democrat as Dewitt Rhoades was Red dog Republican told me he spoke to Dewitt just last month.  Robert who is homebound with an illness served with Dewitt on the FTCC board.  “He just called to check on me last month, and we talked for an hour about old times”

That’s how I met him.  When I came to town in 1982, taking a job with John Wolfe, Dewitt was one of the first people I met.  He supplied us office supplies.  But he was a frequent visitor, more often than required to service our account.  While visiting, he would talk politics with John, and Church business with Sylvia Kiger.  And we got to know each other…and soon I found people coming to see me because Dewitt told them to. 

As a friend to many, he was a person that could be trusted for advice.  Another Facebook commentator said of him: “DeWitt was a friend and mentor in many ways to me. I will miss him and his advice and counsel”…another said:  “Always looked forward to talking & sharing with him… you could count on his solid advice. There will be a void!”Another friend commented:  “He was a most congenial and sincere friend…He knew how to get the job done” 

Winston-Salem Mayor Allen Joines commented:  “What a great man…he will be greatly missed”   Former Clemmons Mayor and State Representative, Bill McGee noted: “Dewitt was a true Patriot, served his Country and Community with grace. I will always appreciate his counsel and support.” 

He was a man of even temper, open conversation and deep humility.  He met Presidents, voted twice in the Electoral College.  He counseled elected officials from city council to United States Senate as easily as he would talk to a neighbor. As Kipling would say, ‘He was a man who could talk with crowds and keep his virtue or walk with Kings and not lose the common touch”

Christ commanded us….”Let your light shine before men….that seeing your good works…they will praise your father in heaven”  Legendary Coach Joe Erhmann observes….”To be a man, you have to see man”   What we saw in Dewitt Rhoades was a man of God whose good works proclaimed his Father in Heaven every day.  We are better to have known him, the community is better to have had him in our midst.

But for me…and perhaps for you, Dewitt Rhoades was my Epaphroditus.

He was what Dr. Corts described as an “encourager”. You see the greatest gift any person can give to another is the gift of believing in yourself because the other person believes in you.   Any success that I have achieved and any success that you have achieved at some point can be traced to the time when a person simply said in word or deed:  “I believe in you”   Dewitt did that for me….I know he did that for his family.  He did that for his country, his community and this Church.  And I believe most everyone here today can remember a time that he did that for you.

Dewitt served in the flight crew of a B-29 bomber during the Korean War.  He flew 26 missions in a plane named “No Sweat”.   When I asked him of this unusual name, he responded:  “No Sweat”   To which I inquired:  “What do you mean?”   He continued:  “We always took the most difficult missions.  We never complained.  We were always prepared.  We believed in ourselves and each other. We refused to quit. We embraced the challenge.  ‘No Sweat’”

Dr. Corts concluded his sermon on Epaphroditus with a rhetorical question.  “Why do geese honk when they fly?”   He answered his question by describing how scientists who studied the flight of geese had determined that they fly in a precise geometric formation that enables them to cross longest distances most efficiently.   That the lead goose in a flight is in the most difficult position and when this goose tires, another goose will take its place.  And that throughout the flight every goose in the flock will honk except the one in the lead position.

Geese naturally provide to each other what Epaphroditus gave to the Apostle Paul…..encouragement

To understand Dewitt, you must only look at his upbringing in rural Wilkes County and combine that with his time flying dangerous missions over North Korea.   He was an encourager.  It was an attribute developed by experience.

He was our Epaphroditus.

How shall we remember Dewitt?  Consider the observation of Frederick Buechner:

“When you remember me, it means you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.” 

I don’t know about you but I don’t speak “goose”.   But the next time I see a flock of geese flying overhead and hear them honk….I am not going to try to figure out what they are saying.  Instead, I will recall the voice of Dewitt Rhoades….and hear him say:  “No Sweat….No Sweat”  That is how I will remember my friend.

Jesus proclaims that as we mourn, we are blessed with courage and comfort.  And so may it be with each of you.  

Hallelujah

Amen