Azalea, Oregon

Sunday, June15, 2003

Azalea, Land of My Youth

Nestled quietly in the gentle curve of the almost completely straight Interstate 5 between Roseburg and Grants Pass, sits quiet Azalea. It has been sitting there for a very long time. I lived in this town as a young boy many, many years ago.

To my delight and surprise, the motorcycle club chose to include this town as a check point in this year's Grand Tour. The Heaven on Earth Restaurant served up a hearty breakfast (and a tour book stamp).

This year is also the 50th anniversary of the Azalea Community Church where my father served as pastor in the early 1970's. Our family lived in the parsonage next door and I attended grade school in Glendale -- a 12 mile bus ride away. (Uphill in the snow both ways). Being "PK" (pastor's kid) in a small town had its rewards and disadvantages but I hold it in my memory as my second favorite place to have lived as a child.

I arrived on a Sunday for the service and associated festivities and had an opportunity to see people I never dreamed that I would ever see again. The choir sang about the "little country church." It was touching.

The church building was expanded a few years ago but remains essentially the same as I remember it. The durable carpet on the floor in the sanctuary is the very same one that was installed when I lived there 30 years ago. In fact, I have a scar on my right hand that resulted from snagging a stray carpet tack during installation.

I'm old... and scarred, apparently.

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