Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Walking Dead


Walking Dead (a brief Lectionary Reflection by Steve Orr)

Having had empty tombs on my mind of late, I am reminded of something that occurred my senior year in high school.  That spring two friends and I went on a camping trip...  

It was no longer full dark, but the sun had yet to rise as we set out that Monday morning in a small skiff.  We launched from where our main street, Broadway, met the water ... right at the confluence of the Ohio and Tennessee rivers.

Our little boat sat very low in the water; laden with the three of us, plus the food, clothing, and camping gear we were going to need that week.  We motored away from the concrete apron, slipped between Owens Island and the shore, and soon ducked south onto the Tennessee River.  Along about noon that first day, we locked through the Dam into Kentucky Lake, an enormous reservoir stretching southward through western Kentucky and onward into western Tennessee.  

These reflections are supposed to be brief; so, instead of burdening you with our day-by-day itinerary, let me just say that it was every boy's dream trip.  We spent the week camping, boating, fishing, exploring, swapping tales around campfires ... all of it pegged to a two position clock: sunrise, sunset.  Very Tom and Huck.

Our second day we decided to explore one of the islands that dotted the lake.  We packed up our gear and headed out to what the map said was Cherokee Island.  We found a narrow stretch of beach on one side, grounded our boat, and did a little reconnaissance.  A short walk from the beach we found a wide spot in a circle of trees that would serve quite well as a campsite.  We anchored the boat to a tree near the water and hauled our gear inland.  We had the camp set up and the evening meal sputtering in the frying pan in short order.  Night closed in quickly.

After the meal, Bruce (our Boy Scout) announced he had to respond to "nature's call."  He grabbed a flashlight and trotted off into the dark.  As we cleaned up, we listened to the sounds of his retreating steps.  Suddenly there was a loud "thump" followed by the sound of Bruce yelling "wo-oh-oh!"  We each grabbed lights and ran in the direction we had seen him go.  We saw there was a path and followed it.  As we rounded a curve we pulled up short before a large, oddly shaped rock.  We could hear Bruce mumbling something from the other side of the rock.  So, stepping off the path and walking around the rock, we found Bruce lying on his back, his head tilted back, looking up at the rock.  On it was carved the name "Goheen" (the word he kept mumbling over and over).

Then the world did that strange little 90 degree turn it sometimes does, and all of a sudden we realized the "rock" was actually a gravestone, that Bruce had flipped over it as he rounded the curve, and that he was at that point lying on a grave!  Bob and I realized this at the same time, but he also had the presence of mind to shine his light around.  What we saw was shocking.  We were surrounded by a collection of gravestones, vaults, and concrete sarcophagi; all in a seriously deteriorated state.  The stones were tilted in various directions, the vaults were broken open, and the sarcophagi lids appeared to have been tossed aside.

As you might expect, we three got little sleep that night.  

The next afternoon (we got a late start, having found we were able to get some sleep once the sun rose), we packed up and left the island behind as we headed to the Ranger Station with a LOT of questions.  

We learned that the islands in the lake had all been hilltop cemeteries prior to the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA) damming up the river to create the lake; that while the TVA paid for the relocation of bodies, many families abandoned the gravestones, vaults, etc., because they could not personally afford to have them moved.  The result was what we experienced ... empty graves, empty vaults, empty tombs.

There is something especially unnerving about empty tombs.  Even when you are not standing right by them, you know they are out there ... empty.  You can't help but wonder where the occupant went.  And you can't really relax until you get that question answered.

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Second Sunday of Easter (May 1, 2011)
Acts 2:14a, 22-32
Psalm 16
1 Peter 1:3-9
John 20:19-31

If you are in Waco Friday morning, join the crew for breakfast and discussion at 8:00 a.m. at Cafe Cappuccino (downtown on 6, near the Courthouse).

Enjoy!
Steve

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