Even though schools have not met for most of this year, the year has been most educational. For one thing, we have learned that we really have not seen it all, after all. On top of that, if you have said that things couldn’t get much worse, we’ve learned they can. Maybe, we’ve also learned to not say such foolish things.
In January, most of us had never heard of the coronavirus. In about six months, the virus has killed more than 180,000 Americans and it is still rampant. Did you really ask, “What else can happen? Hurricanes, twin hurricanes would be the answer. Not just one storm but two, at almost the same time, and headed toward the same place. Twin hurricanes are rare. Twin hurricanes in the Gulf of Mexico have not happened in modern recorded history. I’m slightly, and even humorously, reminded of two twin boys I knew.
I became acquainted with twins early in life. My maternal grandfather was a twin. Their names were Leo and Monroe. I didn’t see the two of them together often, so when I did, they looked so much alike that I never knew for certain which one to call Grandpa or which one to call Uncle Monroe. I’ve had the privilege of serving as pastor of at least three pairs of twins. Bart and Brett, as well as Debra and Donna, were grown when I became their pastor. When I became Clint and Cole’s pastor, back in the 1990s, they were boys...and I do mean boys...all boy boys. What those two didn’t get into had not been thought of, but if you gave them enough time, they would think of it. Even with no emergency, their favorite number was 911. Don’t get me wrong, they were not mean boys or even bad boys. They were energetic and since there were two of them, they had twice the energy. I’m not saying they were a hand full...actually, they were two hands full. When they were around ten or eleven, I had the privilege of baptizing them. As we prepared to enter the baptismal pool, one of them looked at me and threatened to dive in head first. I threatened to drown him, if he did. Fortunately, he didn’t call my bluff, so no funeral followed. Once, we took a couple of busloads of church kids to see the Ringling Brothers’ Circus. As soon as we pulled into the parking lot at the Birmingham Civic Center, everyone on the twin’s bus came running out. They were coughing, crying, and rubbing their eyes. Finally, someone told us that one of the twins had found a can a mace in a chaperone’s purse. You should be able to figure out the rest of that story! Now, we laugh about the escapades those boys pulled. Fortunately, they have both “matured” into fine men of which I, and many others, are quite proud. Clint has served in the Air Force since 2008 and has acquired the rank of staff sergeant. Cole also served in the Air Force and is currently a field engineer, as well as a utility worker for the SEC Network and ESPN. They have turned out quite well.
At the time of my writing, the twin storms Laura and Marco look like double trouble. They are a two- headed monster, headed for Louisiana. By the time you read this, they should have landed and prayerfully turned out to not be so bad. I do know this, the coronavirus will get better and the twin storms will eventually fizzle out. Let’s pray for all those impacted by both. I’ve got good news too. There’s only four months left in 2020!
— Bill King is a native of Rainsville, where he and his wife graduated from Plainview High School. King is a director of missions in Opelika, a writer, musician and author. His column appears in the Times-Journal weekend edition. Visit brobillybob.com for more information.