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| TRAVELS WITH MY DINOSAUR 05 June - 05 August 2003 |
| Friday 27th June. After yesterday's travelling and afternoon wonderings, I have been quite tired today, but I still managed to get a little more exploring in, visited the Ronald McDonald House and Sacred Heart Hospital and met up with friends from Alabama this evening, so I hope sleep won't be too elusive tonight! I kept to the ecclesiastical theme which began yesterday. This time going west from Palafox, I found St Joseph's Catholic Church, and like the others, it has a story to tell. The Parish of St. Joseph was established in 1890, as a result of the growing congregation of St. Michael - the only Catholic church in Pensacola as the nineteenth century drew to a close. The presiding Bishop at that time (O'Sullivan) wrote in his diary �Although the church is for the coloured race, white persons will be allowed to rent pews, etc.� This sounds like a dreadful concept to me. No one can own a place in a church - I've never heard of anything so absurd, like buying a season ticket for Old Trafford? "Allowed"? Like it would be some sort of privilege for them to attend church. Most strange. Although the church was primarily built for the exclusive use of "Creoles and Blacks" of Pensacola, the fact that it was also open to poor white immigrants who couldn't financially support the Church, singled out St. Joseph's as the first integrated parish in the Diocese of Mobile. Integrated, but still segregated - rich from poor. Fundraising for the church building appeal began on February 7, 1892 with a concert of Sacred Church in St. Joseph Hall. The admission was a mere twenty-five cents, but the congregation was poor and looked to the wider town community of Pensacola to support the construction campaign. The building which stands on Government St today is the result of a coming together of the entire Pensacola community, well beyond the Catholic family. The campaign drew in the energies of the whole Christian congregation of the town - a real team effort, though it's sad to think that they were working so hard to build something that would actually contribute to segregating their society, and contradict the Christian teaching. The congregation is still very active today, numbering about 450 families who attend from as far away as Alabama. Judging by the fun photographic displays in the foyer of social activities, meals, concerts and services, they remain a predominantly African-American congregation, with a strong Gospel tradition and much lively worship. When I emerged from the church, it was time to nip back to the Civic Inn to collect Dino and my papers for my afternoon appointments at the RMH. I wasn't entirely sure where to catch the bus to the depot, so I stopped by the office to ask the very helpful manager. "no problem" he said, "This is a monster of a road to cross. I'll just shut up shop for a minute and walk you over there myself. It's no trouble at all. You just give me a holler when you're ready young lady and I'll be glad to oblige". And that was that. When I arrived at the depot, I didn't have the easiest time locating the Number bus to the hospital district. Workmen were making some nondescript progress on a project around the sight and had not-so-helpfully removed all the lower numbered bay posts, leaving passengers to wonder around in a bewildered daze. To make matters worse - for me, the vast majority of both travellers and workmen spoke only Spanish. Mix together my not-so-good Spanish, frayed patience and loud construction site soundtrack, and you can picture the scene. When I eventually found someone to speak with, the conversation went something like this� "Excuse me, do you know where�." "sowy, no Englis". "OK. Perd�neme!" "Eh?" (holds hand up to ear, motioning - sorry, can't hear). "�D�nde Est� la parada de autobuses por numero dos?" Babble, babble, babble at a speed I can't quite understand, other than to gleen that she was very "cruz" - angry. I'm sure I caught the word "lenteja" too, but I think that means lentils, and that makes no sense at all, unless she was angry because the workmen were making her bus late so that she couldn't go home to soak her lentils. Ya think? Well, I eventually found the bus stop by powers of deduction. Two would have either be at one end or the other. Fortunately, not all the posts had been moved at once, so I was able to establish the correct end by identifying the remaining posts. Once my bus arrived, I asked the driver if she could let me know when we arrived at the hospital. She explained that her first drop off would be opposite the centre, but if I could wait twenty minutes longer, she would come back and stop directly ourside. Unfortunately, my 2pm appointment at the RMH would not allow such flexibility, so she offered to stop the bus and cross me over the road herself if no one would be allighting at the stop. How kind. However, when we arrived at Sacred Heart, some twenty minutes later, the driver spotted her section manager on patrol in the car park, and was concerned about the implications for her if she were seen leaving her vehicle whilst on duty. So was I, and told her I would be OK, despite looking rather feverishly at the busy road in front of me. Instead of just turfing me off the bus and driving onward though, she radioed her boss and asked permission to cross me over the road. "That's OK V" came the reply. "I see you both. Ask the young lady to stand on the corner and I'll come over to assist her". Chris was very kind. When I explained that I had come to Pensacola primarily to visit the Ronald McDonald House and Sacred Heart, he offered to drive me right to the front door of the RMH. "It's a little walk up the hill, but It really is so hot, you don't want to be walking in this heat. Please, let me drive you." I have to admit that I was a little wary because I didn't know the man, but then how well do I know any of the cab drivers who have taken me to countless places along my route so far. I've been watching too many movies! I did keep my hand on my cell phone the whole time though, but felt no bad vibes at all. If I had, I wouldn't have even considered it. On the way, he told me what a pleasant change it was to "do" something to actually serve the customer, rather than just patrolling thae staff. He asked about my trip and seemed genuinely interested in the campaign back in Oxford. My visit to the RMH and Sacred Heart took up most of the afternoon. You'll be able to read about it soon on the CHOX website. I'm just waiting for them to send me some extra blurb I asked for. At 5.30pm, my friends Deb and Dave met me in the atrium at the women and children's hospital. They live in Foley, Alabama, a Gulf Coast town of 10,000, approximately half way between here and Mobile. Deb and I met via the internet at the beginning of 2000, when I first became unwell. The time difference meant that, even in the middle of the night, I was able to log online and communicate with friends who understood what I was talking about. Deb, among others, was a great support during some really dark days. It was wonderful to finally meet her and Dave in person. We first went to the beach to enjoy the feel of the sand between our toes, and to dip our feet in the gulf waters. This is the "Emerald Coast" along the Gulf of Mexico, an extremely beautiful stretch of powder white sand and crystal clear aquamarine seas. The water tower at Pensacola Beach is adorned with an imaginative beach ball, and the beach was just as colourful, with families and groups of young people enjoying the evening warmth. On leaving the beach, we encountered a sign which encouraged us to "turn right for a scenic drive along the Gulf and the coast's whitest beaches". I enjoyed a delicious down-home southern cooked meal and the wonderful company of good friends this evening. We had much to talk about, and my one regret is that we had only a single evening together. Deb and Dave are an absolutely delightful couple, extremely generous of their time and their hearts. I am so blessed that they were able to make the drive to Pensacola to meet up with me. I should end here. Tomorrow will be a long day. God bless all. |