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Occasionally, he interrupted the story to ask a question of the listener.

"Say Walter, you said you work out at the power plant. How many of you work out there?"

Walter thought, then answered, "Oh, about eight hundred or so."

Bob deftly re-entered the story.

"Mercy that's a big crowd. That's about double the number we had in Lebbit in the thirties. You'd have to start a fire or lose a bull to get any kind of crowd together back then. But ol' Knuckle head, he drew a fine crowd up on Crooked road when he tipped that wagon over onto Mrs. Hawkins' chicken coop. Squawking chickens and hay bails all over the front yard, and her chasing ol' Knucklehead around with a broom.

Marshall had about four years on Bob, but his bright eyes and curiosity were ageless. He slipped a question into a tiny break in Bob's yarn.

"Say Walter, I heard they might build another car factory out there in a few years. That one out there now really stirred things up for a bit when they built it."

Walter got caught up in the conversation and forgot his awkwardness. He was rarely the center of so much attention, and not often the youngster at a gathering. The class had grown to over twenty now, and Bob left to get more folding chairs from the back. Walter and Marshall followed. Thirty or more were seated when Reverend Conners finally hustled in from the early service.

Bob leaned over to whisper something to Walter. The tone was low like a whisper, but the volume was, if anything, louder than before. Everyone turned to listen.

"You know, Walter, I used to teach these Sunday classes, but I never got more than five or six. I guess I should've got me one of those P- H-D's. Bob suddenly realized that he had the class's attention and sat upright in his folding chair, smiling a broad smile.

Reverend Conners waited politely for the elderly group to turn back to the lectern. Walter regarded Conners as a near-perfect minister. Jack did a lot of interfaith work in the community and had come to know the leaders of the local synagogues, Catholic churches, and the town's only mosque. Conners had a deep intellectual interest in all faiths, and a sincere appreciation for the followers. He kept his faith at the center stage of his life, but didn't trip up over details and apparent paradoxes. He went for the spirit of the faith. He was one of the few religious men Walter had known that did not make him feel pressured or uneasy.

Jack started the lecture like a guide leading a group down a trail fraught with steep slopes

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