I remember quite clearly the Wednesday before Thanksgiving in 1990 when I was in Nashville. Most of us were going home for the weekend and George, Jolly and I left late, about 6 or 6:30 that night. We caravanned with George and myself in my car and Jolly in his. We took turns leading the way, always giving the “
thumbs up” or “
double pistols” sign as we passed one another. We stopped, as we always did, at
Exit 417 on I-40 to gas up and I guess just to be there. That seemed to be a magic location while I was in Nashville.
The band
White Heart had just put out their “Powerhouse” cd so we listened to that the whole way. I think Jolly didn’t know we had it and we gave it to him at the stop as a surprise. He quickly passed us with an “
OK-rock on” hand gesture. I think about that when I hear the album and think of him.
We got into Columbia, waved goodbye to Jolly as he exited to his home and his world, and got to George’s home about 1:00 am. His dad, George the 2nd, known to most as ‘Buddy’, was waiting up for us. (I never called him Buddy but always wanted to) They asked me to spend the night since it had been a long trip but I had gotten my second wind and was ready to press on.
I pulled out about 1:30, I guess, and headed for Florence.
Michael W. Smith had a Christmas CD out then that, at the time, I didn’t think much of but for some reason I thought why not pop it in. So there I was… on the last leg of a 9 hour trip, 2:00 am, wide awake and wide alive. I loved hearing the album as I drove and couldn’t get it loud enough. I even rolled down the windows a little to feel the cold air rush over me as the music seemed to usher in the Christmas season. I play it every year when we put our Christmas tree up. It always reminds me of that trip.
“Glory!” sang the angel chorus. “Glory!” echoed back the night.
Love has come to walk among us.Christ the Lord is born this night.
I got home about 3:00 am. Mom and Dad were asleep but left lights on for me and some food out. I quickly killed the food and the lights and quietly went upstairs to bed. I remember lying there feeling good… in my bed… in my room… home. My being wired from the driving soon gave way to sleep and the next thing I knew it was morning and my Mom was sitting on the edge of my bed hugging me. Maybe hiding a tear, I’m not sure. I said, “I’m home. She said, “I know. I’m glad”. “Me too”, I said. And I was.