Dear friends,
About two years ago, we had a flood at our house. While we were in Boston, something happened to our water system and quite the mess ensued. After some pretty hefty renovations to our house, we finally got it back up and running about nine months later. The last area of repair from the flood was my record collection was out of order. If I only had a few records, that wouldn’t be a big deal, but I have 800 plus. I usually have a few big tasks that I strive for each summer, and alphabetizing the vinyl was my big one. Well, to make a long story short, it took me a few days, but was able to prevail. After the records were alphabetized, I decided the next big task of the summer was listen to each one in alphabetical order. It’s a cool way to go through your music if you have an eclectic collection, and I do. Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Dead Milkmen, Devo, Bob Dylan, Ella Fitzgerald and some random records I forgot I had.
I mention all this because I learned something listening to the records in this way. Each one has something unique that really stands out to me. They’re all very different and cool in their own way, but this forces to me to look at the diversity in just that corner of our house and opens up all sorts of worlds. Like books, a good record (or whatever format you prefer) has that potential to have us transcend where we are to find a special place. As I write this, I’m listening to Lionel Hampton on the vibraphone and I’m reminded of our very own Ms. Hollywood E. Jones and the glockenspiel.
Several years ago, we hosted a circle dinner at our house. It was way back when we lived in a much smaller place. It was great to be able to share the records with everyone there. I remember breaking out some Turkish records I found in a thrift store for Dolly Berthelot, who lived in Turkey some time ago. Now, whenever I listen to that record, I associate it with Dolly. I have a Harry Belafonte record that I associate with Rev Julie Kain because of her love of that song “Blue Boat Home.” I even have an LP by none other than our own Mike Kilmer (signed!) when they were making some different kinds of music way back in the day. Of course, I can’t forget the Beatles records, which I’ll always associate with Jack Comstock and his karaoke tribute to mark the anniversary of the British Invasion hitting Ed Sullivan and Miami in 1964.
The records make me think of all sorts of things. Concerts I attended. Bands I love. Friends who I adore. Friends who are no longer with us. When I was reorganizing the records, I came across a Shostakovich record, “The Year 1917,” that my friend Samantha gave me for my birthday one year. She died by suicide a few years later, but inside the record is a letter she wrote me. A very poignant moment. I have a few hundred 45s, but what’s even cooler is that I have a few 78s that are over 100 years old. It’s wild to put those on the turn table, listen to the “snap crackle pop” and hear music from people who’ve been gone so long there’s probably no record of them—except the record. Brand new or a century old, they all tell a story.
All of this makes me think of our flock, and all the things that remind me of us. When Nancy Hagman found the “Mother’s Day” poster recently, this was like a song from the past that we recognize now. Some people in the pictures are still here and some are not, but the memories remain. The back hallway near the kitchen— incidentally named after Mrs. Barbara Goggins—holds photos going back decades with all sorts of great people. Parties, dinners, galas, and lots of group photos. Pictures of past minsters and pictures of past homes for the congregation. Here, we see our legacy. Like the records on my shelf, some are prominent and some leave a quieter impression, but all are important. Nonetheless, they all inhabit a space, have their own unique stories, and hold a spot in our hearts. Going through all my records, from the beginning to the end, reminds me of the beautiful web we’re constantly creating and continuously spinning. They all have stories to tell. We all have stories to tell.
As for the work of the president, I’m slowly setting into the position. I was describing to a friend that it feels a little like triage, and I’m trying to sort out who needs the most help right now. In triage, though, even the best providers miss symptoms sometimes and things go from bad to worse. I say that to say that I may miss some things from time to time. Feel free to reach out to me if you see something important, or if something’s going on with you that needs my attention. The board is holding its annual retreat at the end of August. If there’s something important you want me to add to the agenda, I’m happy to do so. As I tell my students, my door is always open.
Otherwise, I hope you’re all staying hydrated. It’s hot out there! It’s a good day to sit around at home and listen to records. I hope you’re able to carve away some time for yourself and just relax during these dog days of summer. Now, back to the records (If you’re curious, the band Heart is next, which reminds me of my late Uncle Phil. Then Heaven’s to Betsy, Jimi Hendrix, and more down the way). Happy Summer!
-Scott