Excommunication, Mellowing, and the Whoosh of Time

Back in 1985 Ernie and I were living on the top floor of a wonderful old apartment building on Columbia Street here in Champaign. It was two apartments upstairs and two downstairs...our friends Boo and Angel Camareno lived downstairs. One evening it was somebody's birthday and we were all hanging out on the front porch drinking. We had Happy Birthday banners though so to me it felt pretty wholesome. It could have even been the night this picture was taken. And yes, that is a Leaf and Dart footed tumbler I'm using for my wine. Some things indeed don't change.

Ernie and I were sitting in the porch swing and laughing. Two men in black suits came walking up to the building and headed up the steps. Ernie went down to greet them. Everyone looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing why he knew they were there for him or who they were. It turns out it was two Mormon missionaries. They visit members of the church regularly. Ernie had moved around so much in recent years that they had never tracked him down before. When he saw them, he knew they were Mormons there to visit him though.

They walked over to the driveway and talked, Ernie with his shaggy hair and holding a beer in one hand. Reportedly it was a polite conversation but when asked, Ernie told them he wasn't interested in the church. A few weeks later as we were packing up to move to Michigan we got a registered letter in the mail stating that Ernie was being put on trial for behavior unbecoming to the Mormon Church. It said he could attend and bring witnesses to testify on his behalf, if they were members of the Mormon Church in good standing. We shook our heads and tossed into a marshmallow tin with other paperwork.

Later we received yet another registered letter in the mail, this time forwarded to Michigan where we were living while I was in grad school. This time the letter informed him that he had been excommunicated and that they hoped that he would realize the value of what he had lost.

I think I've written about this before on here but I hadn't seen the letter in many years. When talking with David and Sergio last week the topic somehow came up and I was curious enough to dig it up. Sure enough it was in the big blue marshmallow tin. It feels kind of funny to hold a typewritten letter these days. I remembered the letter as being much more vitriolic than it actually is. Maybe I've mellowed in the past 29 years?

29 years. Whoosh. I still feel like the girl sitting on that porch swing with her cute boyfriend.