Yep, back in the 1960s the one-and-only
pastor I knew made house calls. In fact, I vividly remember my dad
coming home after a day of "making calls."
the way, kids." Dad was making a beeline for the bathroom, and we'd
joke: "Don't these homes have bathrooms?" Sometimes we'd hear a coffee
intake report, as if the day's 13 cups were a badge of honor. Driving
the family car meant putting up with stray church bulletins and a
communion set that surfed across the seat with every corner.
he kept making those calls — well into a new century. After a recent
"second retirement" from visitation pastor status, at age 85, visiting
parishioners is still my dad's first love. Some would say "he's from
the old school."
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