Free Good-bye and Amen by Beth Gutcheon

some from different churches. He was always willing to get involved. I remember when the Barbers’ baby died of crib death. People always blame the parents in those cases. They should have put the baby on her stomach to sleep, or on her back, or let her sleep in the same bed with them, or something. I remember people talked. But Norman got them through it. He just believed in the goodness of the Lord’s plan for all of us. “He reminded me that God knows what it is to lose a child,” Dodie Barber said to me. I remember that, it gave her such comfort.
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    Kendra Brayton I was shocked when they left. We wanted a rector who would put down roots here. We’d made that clear. I suppose it was because the wife wanted something grander. Still, it was a rude surprise that all the time we were getting comfortable with them and making them so welcome, they were entertaining better offers. I don’t think the fellow from Paso Robles would have done that. I even made some inquiries to see if he was still free, but he was settled somewhere in New England. Off the Faithfuls went to Colorado, with the capital campaign for the new carillon just getting started. Instead of finishing that, we had to start a rector search all over again. We got the carillon finally but it left a taste in the mouth, if you know what I mean.
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    Trinny Biggs Evan Angle told me that Nicky Faithful’s father was a famous pianist at one time. Longhair music. I suppose that explains something.
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    Kendra Brayton Of course, in Colorado their star started rising. We were just a stepping-stone to them. I remember one Sunday morning my little grandson came into the kitchen and told me, “Mopsy, come quick, God’s on television.” I went and there was Norman Faithful in full regalia, preaching at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City. He had written a book, I guess, and had gone to New York to be a celebrity. Booming away in the pulpit about the power of prayer, which was what his book was about, with this huge sea of dressed-up people sitting below him, gazing up.
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    Monica Faithful When Norman told me he’d been called to Denver, but he wasn’t going to uproot me again so soon if I didn’t want him to, I didn’t even answer. I just went up to the attic and brought down the suitcases. I was pregnant with Edith at the time.
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    Betty Kersey Denver was a much better place for Norman than Boondocks, Oregon. He’s a political animal. He likes the fray. We never did; that’s why George left the ministry. George says he’s going to write a TV series called Desperate Rectors . In Denver Norman became a media darling. He’d get himself on the Sunday morning programs talking about social issues and pretty soon they gave him a show of his own. Every week after church a camera crew would followhim into the rectory and there would be Monica, in her Sunday best, sitting beside him with her ankles crossed, and when she was old enough, Edie too, blinking in the lights. Norman would do this sort of fireside chat about God in the world that week. Once in a while he’d throw a softball question to Monica to answer. He loved the whole thing. There he was, with his perfect little family, leading a perfect Christian Life for all to see.
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    Bud Shatterman I was on the committee that called Norman to St. John’s, and we became great friends. Great friends. He had his strengths, he had his weaknesses, like anybody. But you’ll remember, those were the days when people were saying that God was Dead. Young people were falling away from the church, they were going off to India and chanting in Sanskrit. We had a beautiful old sanctuary built for a more prosperous neighborhood than we were any more. It needed a lot of work, and we needed some warm bodies in the pews, we couldn’t just expect the old families to pay for it all. Norman understood the problem, and he said he could