If it’s hot and it’s Labor Day, it must mean ice cream, so we had a family build-your-own sundae party. We were happy to have my mother, Mike’s son James, his sister Judy and her kids, spouses and their kids. We had almost the entire crew with just a couple of absences. I think there were 20 of us digging into the sauces and sprinkles and such – except for our youngest, six-week-old Isaiah whose mom had something else for him.
The little kids primarily enjoyed the patio swing and fountain, and some of the older ones found the electric piano keyboard. Here’s the best story of the day.
Burr (the fellow going for ice cream in the above pic), who is married to Judy’s daughter Jennifer, spotted the photo in my office of me with President and Mrs. Reagan. He found me in the kitchen to tell me that he had gotten into trouble at the former President’s house. Burr, a Baptist minister, had been at a ministerial conference in LA when, on a free afternoon, he and two friends rented a car, got a map of the stars, and set out to do some sight-seeing.
They happened upon Reagan’s estate and – knowing that the President was in poor health and a devout man – they pulled into the driveway, and Burr walked up to the intercom at the gate. When his buzz was acknowledged, he explained, “We’re three pastors from Memphis and we’d like to come in and pray with the President.” Burr said that first he heard the sound, then looked up and saw all the remote cameras swiveling toward his little group. The voice on the intercom responded quickly and decisively: “Return to your car. Back down this driveway immediately, and drive away.”
To prove their good will and Southern-ness, I guess the guys should have been carrying a casserole.
The little kids primarily enjoyed the patio swing and fountain, and some of the older ones found the electric piano keyboard. Here’s the best story of the day.
Burr (the fellow going for ice cream in the above pic), who is married to Judy’s daughter Jennifer, spotted the photo in my office of me with President and Mrs. Reagan. He found me in the kitchen to tell me that he had gotten into trouble at the former President’s house. Burr, a Baptist minister, had been at a ministerial conference in LA when, on a free afternoon, he and two friends rented a car, got a map of the stars, and set out to do some sight-seeing.
They happened upon Reagan’s estate and – knowing that the President was in poor health and a devout man – they pulled into the driveway, and Burr walked up to the intercom at the gate. When his buzz was acknowledged, he explained, “We’re three pastors from Memphis and we’d like to come in and pray with the President.” Burr said that first he heard the sound, then looked up and saw all the remote cameras swiveling toward his little group. The voice on the intercom responded quickly and decisively: “Return to your car. Back down this driveway immediately, and drive away.”
To prove their good will and Southern-ness, I guess the guys should have been carrying a casserole.
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