I used to love to watch him and his wife, sitting in the front row at church every Sunday. He always took copious notes during the sermon. I learned that he called one of his daughters every Sunday night, and they compared notes about what they had heard on Sunday morning.
His first parish was in Hayti, South Dakota, not far from the small three-point parish where I had served for four years. I couldn't believe that he knew well those small towns where I had just come from. His last call had been as the senior pastor of a large suburban church. But he had now been semi-retired for many years. He served part-time as a visitation pastor at a neighboring church. But he worshiped with us.
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