Wednesday, July 11, 2007
That was Jason and me, nine years ago today.
Dumb, I mean, young and in love, as the saying goes.
We haven't been in the same vicinity on July 11 for four years now. He's always in South Carolina working. He called me early this morning to wish me a happy anniversary.
Interesting fact: the church where we were married doesn't exist anymore. It was a brand spankin' new building (just opened the week before) when we got hitched. A year or two later, it was falling down around the congregation and the powers-that-be ended up condemning it.
So, they sold the land and built another building a few miles away. I haven't been there, but I hear that they saved that gorgeous stained glass window you see in our picture. It was just installed the day before our wedding. Handmade by two little old ladies.
My mother and I spent a couple of (really, really) hot days seeding the grounds around the church, because the city wouldn't clear it to open unless it was "landscaped." My dad borrowed a tractor to till the ground to get it ready.
And why, you may ask, was the church so poorly constructed?
Ah, the beauty of church politics.
There was an older man who was a contractor. He was also one of the main contributors to the church. So, when the time came to build, they let him have the job.
The congregation had plenty of money to build with, from the sale of their previous property. But, this guy messed so much up, they had to borrow nearly $100,000 from their denomination to finish the work. And, it took twice as long, because this guy basically did all the work himself. He didn't trust anyone else, and he was an EXTREME racist. So even if he did trust someone, unless the person "looked like him" he wouldn't hire them.
And did the church get to sue him for his shoddy workmanship? No, because by that point he was dead.
Anyway, I guess the church served its purpose, for us anyway. It's funny to think that even at nine years, our marriage has outlasted this structure. We drive down the road it was on now, still a vacant lot standing there, and tell Anna Marie that was the spot where it all began.
An overgrown concrete slab and what's left of a parking lot.