Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
URBANNA — One day, a glorious spring day one Sunday, the sort of day Father would open the front door of our house in Ohio to greet the sun singing the cheerful refrain “nothing could be finer than to awake in Carolina in the morrrrrrning!” (I never fully understood this tradition because hadn’t we awakened in Ohio?) As I was walking with one of the “goldens,” Brandy, a woman thrust open her front door and shouted, “Why aren’t you in church?”
