Colin White Letter: March 14, 2016

Edenton, North Carolina

 

WARNING: Colin apparently ran out of computer time and didn’t get to finish. . . .!!

 

Dear People Who Might Peruse This Email,

This week has been very tiring, filled with hundreds of miles of driving and tens of miles of biking. However tired I may be, Elder Pendlebury and I taught more lessons in the last two-week period than have been taught in this area since early October! It still wasn't that many lessons, but work is definitely picking up here, which may be because we ask literally everyonewe talk to for referrals for people to teach.

Many things have happened this week, but there's one story that is just too good not to tell. We went to teach this guy, Phil, about the Book of Mormon, and when he staggered out onto the porch, he was about as drunk as is possible without getting alcohol poisoning--I mean he had a bottle of gin still in his hand. He sat down on the chair on the porch and just started a drunken rant like you would never believe. Phil told us some very, very interesting things, including the account of his brother’s death in which he saw his brother get hit by a freight train. He also told us of his own attempted suicide as result of the trauma of seeing his brother’s death. Then he went on to tell us all this other stuff (which actually helped us understand some of his concerns), but then he yelled,  "HEY that old man just fell!"

We turned around to see that another old drunk guy who was attempting to ride his bike to the store had completely “eaten it” right in the middle of the street and was lying spread-eagle, flat on his face in the road! Of course, being good Eagle Scouts/citizens, we ran to him and helped him up, walking him and his bike to a chair in Phil's yard. Not to sound self-centered, but in helping him up, he got blood all over my nicest cashmere sweater (I know that sounds super stuck-up, but still)!! One of Phil's nieces, who lives at the house, flagged down a random car and got them to drive the drunk guy back home. He wanted to get back on his bike and ride home, but she wouldn't let him--and believe me, there was no arguing with that lady! She wasn't messing around.

We left our car there and went on to contact a referral down the road. Getting back to the car required walking past Phil's house again and as we reached the house, two of his nieces who live there told us, "Uncle Phil is lying on the porch of that abandoned house next door. He says he's moving in and is gonna live there now." We laughed and started walking past the abandoned house. Sure enough, on the porch of this late 1800's two-story house that had almost no paint left on it and was mostly rotted wood, there was Phil, lying on a dirty old blanket on his back. He saw us and then recommenced ranting to us. We told him we had to go and as we were walking away a guy walked past us. It was another of our investigators, so we stopped him and set up an appointment with him. As we were saying good bye, we asked if there was anything we could do for him. Out of nowhere, hidden behind a bush, we heard Phil yell-- (now read this with a drunken super southern accent),  "YOU can buuuuy meh aaaa KIIIInnnG CObrA!" The guy we were talking to turned around in sheer astonishment at Phil's random response to our question, which wasn't even aimed at him!

 

This is only part of the email sorry

--Elder White