Church in the Vale

Vacations are memories stitched together by moments in time. I was fortunate enough to grow up in a family that valued time away from the day-to-day minutia of general life. We never took exotic trips and many times the trips were just a few days, but the goal was always the same, experience a place as a family. We would take pictures (no selfies back then), collect souvenirs, eat picnic lunches and learn how to get along in new environments. My parents were saints when I think about it now, but my mother says she only remembers fun times.

My husband and I recently had the good fortune of vacationing with our daughter and son-in-law in one of our favorite places, the Black Hills. The weather was very warm and uncharacteristically humid due to recent rains in the area. But our cabin veranda was blessed with shade and soothing breezes. We spent many hours in conversation punctuated by a meal or two, or three or more. We also took field trips out and about in the Hills. 

As with all field trips, some events are planned and other events are totally serendipitous. One trip was a drive to a former mining town (pop. 21) that is still a destination for many due to its iconic watering hole and beautiful location. After we reached the little burg, we took a break in the parking lot of a nearby country chapel. My daughter tugged gently on the front door out of curiosity. Not surprisingly, it was locked so we wandered around the property to stretch our legs. 

Within minutes, a small blue car pulled up and an elderly lady (probably my age) rolled down her window and asked if we wanted to go inside the church. We were a little stunned by her timing but did not want to her to think we were casing the joint for some big break-in, so we agreed to her generous offer. She unlocked the front door for us and we entered the little brown chapel. The musty smell of air encapsulated without air conditioning greeted us. The church would have been just another country chapel if it hadn't been for the zeal of our tour guide and her husband, sporting a trusty water bottle fastened to his side in a holster. 

Our guide shared with us the history of the church which had its beginnings in the bar down the road. Volunteer ladies of the church would clean up the beer bottles and mess of Saturday night's revelry and prepare the bar for Sunday morning's worship. When the congregation garnered sufficient funds, a chapel was built and the pride in their progress continued to glow. Our guide pointed out the pews that replaced the original folding chairs, the new cement installed for the side entryway, the stained glass artwork decorating one of the windows and the brand new hymnals just purchased. She ended her history lesson by stating, "And every Sunday, we sing the song about the little brown church in the vale." As we prepared to leave, she gave us a parting gift, a paper place mat from their recent anniversary celebration. We thanked her and her husband for their time and made our way back to our vehicle, waving one last time to our new friends. 

Our original field trip itinerary did not include a stop at a chapel but it was certainly one of our highlights of the day, thanks to a very passionate woman, her husband and a little church in the vale.

Trending

News shows often share a feature called "What's Trending." I do not live on the cutting edge of anything so I am mildly interested in the latest and greatest. I did, however, take note of a particular announcement this week. The first one being Best Buy's decision to no longer carry music CDs. No surprise given our obsession with all things digital. The follow-up decision was the kicker. Best Buy will continue to stock vinyl records. What? The technology that was shunned and disgraced out of existence is now popping up on the radar as "cool" or should I say, "lit"? Here's a news flash. Vinyl is old technology. My parents used vinyl so we are talking really old.

One of my mom's beloved pieces of furniture was the console stereo. Mom instituted a sacred quiet time after our noon meal. The littlest ones napped, the middlings read a book or pretended to nap and my dad stretched out on the living room floor for one of his quick power naps. To set the tone, Mom put a vinyl record on the stereo and we drifted off with George Beverly Shea singing "How Great Thou Art" or a gospel quartet harmonizing their way through "The Old Rugged Cross." Christmas time was always exciting because Dad picked up the latest Christmas compilation album from my uncle who owned the local TV and appliance store. One of my favorite albums had a partridge in a pear tree on the cover. No surprise I learned all the verses to the "Twelve Days of Christmas" that year.

One of our first purchases as newlyweds was a stereo system that was far more expensive than we could afford. At the time, it seemed logical that musical equipment would have the highest priority on our list of needs (yes, we were idiots). In defense of ourselves, we continue to enjoy memories of the vinyl albums we played and replayed on that system.

As time moved forward, we jumped on the CD music wagon with the rest of the world due to the convenience and ease of using CDs. No more jumpy needles on a turntable. No more fear of scratching vulnerable vinyl records. No more bulky album covers. No more wonky 8-track players or curled up tapes in a cassette player. We were keeping up with the times and that should be enough.

When the wave of digital music arrived, my husband and I let it splash on by. I can pull up a song on Spotify if I have to or put together a playlist from Amazon Prime music under duress, but using digital music is like speaking another language for us.

And that brings us back to vinyl. We can speak that language very well. We know the joy of an artistically designed album cover. We understand the commitment it takes to purchase a compilation of songs that are not just comprised of our favorites. We know the fun of falling in love with a new song. We know the care and feeding it takes to keep vinyl in good shape.

And we know, vinyl never died. God Bless America.

(P.S. If you are interested in "why real things matter", read the book Revenge of Analog by David Sax.)