September 19, 2022 - When returning on a hitch-hiking trip to Texas A & M College (1950), a motorist dropped me off in Nacogdoches at the intersection of Highway 7 and Highway 21. “Thumbing a ride” was pretty easy back then and in a few moments' two elderly ladies in a new Buick stopped to give me a ride. When I rushed to the car and tried to open the back door, one of the ladies let her window down a few inches and said, “You’re not going to hurt us, are you?”
“Oh, no Maam... I’m Doug Fincher from Center. Do you know Henry Fincher? He’s my Dad.” When I saw the ladies were still a little nervous, I added, “I’m a preacher.” Smiles broke out on their faces as they unlocked the door and began telling me what a good profession I had chosen.
I wonder how many people would give me a ride if I told them I was a preacher nowadays. Not many. What a shame.
Maybe there’s a reason.
