Friday, June 6th, 2014

Starting today and up until Father’s Day I’ve chosen to remember with honor and laughter my husband, Claude T. Thomas, pastor emeritus of First Baptist Church, Rossville, Georgia,for nigh on twenty years or a couple of years too late.

Like most males Claude didn’t like when we were on long trips to admit he was lost.  When Alan was thirteen our destination was New York City.  You knew something was wrong when we kept crossing the same bridge over and over.  Desperate we talked him to stop at a service station and ask for directions.  By the time the attendant started in with an all too familiar line, “You can’t miss it,” Alan and I were drawn double laughing.

We did finally make it to the city and took the first Holiday Inn we came to or maybe we had made reservations.

Then there was the time Claude and I took our dog Runt, a long haired Chicauau, to Callaway Gardens @ Augusta, Georgia.  When the clerk saw we had a dog  she said we couldn’t stay. Runt who had originally belonged to my mother had bonded so with Claude that when he went to the bathroom she waited outside his door.  We decided  we’d  to visit the Little White House and return home the same day.