Recently an aged lady with a southern raspy drawl left a voice message. It so happened she, living in Alabama, came across my name in a church newsletter that mentioned a visit Ruth and I made to a small church in the upper peninsula of Michigan in summer 2016 – it is a marvel how connections linger.
I called back a few days later and our conversation went down memory lane of folks we all knew in a church – most have died. This church community with a strong southern history as its roots was situated in a village town called Utica in Michigan where I grew up. Marge, now in her 80s confined for now in bed, even recalled when my dad worked with Tom her husband (still living) on their family garage in Romeo, Michigan in the early 70s.
In our conversation I could feel the soft tug of my own southern roots – even though I was born in Detroit my dad was from Tennessee – my own accent is a homeward Salmon instinct that takes me back to my origins. Marge shared name after name and through her voice at the same time I was drawing my own lines of life connecting major turns in the road. Where does the line begin?
Perhaps where to start is my step-grandmother Mildred who introduced me to the church of Christ in my 1950s late adolescent years. The Utica church provided a semblance of stability, basics for life as it were, in the tumultuous 60s and 70s – it gave place for social connection, a moral ethic, and a language of religious content that made sense of the world around me. In my university years Tom was the “song leader” and one day I moseyed along side divorcee Ruth Hannah sitting in the pew – it caused a church stir for sure – we smiled and married a year later in 1972. All those happenings Marge and Tom remember and a call comes in from Alabama.
With strong church ideals we went north to upper Michigan, in ten years we settled in two 
towns, the last Menominee, Michigan. I was a minister there for 6 years and we enjoyed beloved friendships that endure to this day. Then in 1982 a turn was made to St. Louis, later to Vancouver, British Columbia. Over the years our faith has gone beyond the boundaries of this church community to places where the Spirit also resides…still grateful for precious memories that linger.
[Standing in front of lectern my dad made from which I spoke to the Menominee church from 1976 to 1982. Photo from memorable summer visit 2016.]
[The Menominee church building was erected in October, 1977 by a team of families from lower Michigan who came up in RVs and cars, the building was assembled in three days.]
[Beloved friends of the Menominee church.]
[Menominee church building Summer 2016.]
Charles L. James 