“There’s no place like home for the holidays.” So sang Perry Como in his popular 1954 travel-themed holiday hit, which also included the following lines:
“I met a man who lives in Tennessee, and he was heading for
Pennsylvania and some homemade pumpkin pie!
From Pennsylvania folks are travellin’ down the Dixie sunny shore,
From Atlantic to Pacific, gee the traffic is terrific!"
Sandy and I hadn’t traveled at Christmastime in a number of years. And it had been even longer since we actually traveled on Christmas day itself. Back then, it was by car, and hardly anything was open, and the roadways were desolate. This time, we decided to fly, and it was an altogether different story. Yes, there was traffic, but gee, Perry—I hate to tell you this—it was anything but terrific.
Our son Jordan and daughter-in-law Melinda had come down from Washington, D.C. to join us for the weekend. Following our very full day at church on Christmas Eve, the four of us were scheduled to fly out of Raleigh-Durham airport on Christmas afternoon, to see our parents in Florida. When we arrived at the airport, we pulled up to the parking garage adjacent to the terminal and found there was "no room in the inn"—literally. The place was full. So I had to drop off my family and our luggage at the curb, drive back out from the terminals, and use one of the more distant park-and-ride lots. Even there, I had to search and search until finally I discovered one single unoccupied parking space, for which I thanked the Lord. RDU was crowded, to say the least. And so was our flight. There were all kinds of folks heading to Disney World and the warm Florida sun. When our plane finally touched down at Orlando International Airport, it was just hours after some unanticipated Christmas Day tornadoes had ripped through Central Florida. Fortunately, however, our flight was largely uneventful and turbulence-free. And we enjoyed our brief time with our family and friends in Clermont.
In retrospect, I never imagined so many people would be flying on Christmas Day. Never having done it before, I erroneously assumed that the airport would be comparatively quiet and significantly less populated. While the crowds certainly must have been smaller than the day before—Christmas Eve—Christmas at the airport surprisingly looked and felt like just about any other day.
What a contrast this was with the previous Friday evening, when Jordan and Melinda arrived in Danville by train. In case you’ve never done it, going to the old Danville train station downtown on Craghead Street late at night can be a somewhat surreal and even mysterious experience…especially when you’re meeting an arrival at 1:30 AM. The setting almost feels like you’re in an old movie. At any moment you halfway expect Humphrey Bogart—complete with trench coat, fedora and cigarette—to step out of the fog and kiss a tearful Ingrid Bergman goodbye.
At that late hour—or early hour, if you prefer—a handful of people showed up at the old station to meet the small contingent of passengers getting off in Danville, a minor stop on the long run of the Amtrak Crescent, originating out of New York and culminating in New Orleans. From the way some of our church members had previously described the local Amtrak stop to me, I thought perhaps the train wouldn’t even slow down, and Jordan and Melinda would have to take a flying leap and jump off like the cheapskate dad and his family on the Capital One commercials. Fortunately, such was not the case. The train did actually stop, and a handful of shadowy figures disembarked in the murky darkness. After a few moments, we recognized two of the silhouettes coming toward us. It was good to have our son and his wife home with us.
After all of the holiday hustle and bustle, I must say that it’s good to be back in Danville with our holiday travels behind us. After an eighteen-year hiatus, Danville has very quickly become home for Sandy and me once again. Without question, these past several weeks at Mount Hermon have seemed like one grand homecoming. When we worshiped with you on Christmas Eve—and celebrated the Lord’s Supper together—it was like being with family. And why shouldn’t it? After all, you’re our family in Christ. Thank you for helping to make us feel so welcome here. As we move into the new year, please know that it’s truly good to be home with you—not only for the holidays, but every day.
Pastor Danny
“I met a man who lives in Tennessee, and he was heading for
Pennsylvania and some homemade pumpkin pie!
From Pennsylvania folks are travellin’ down the Dixie sunny shore,
From Atlantic to Pacific, gee the traffic is terrific!"
Sandy and I hadn’t traveled at Christmastime in a number of years. And it had been even longer since we actually traveled on Christmas day itself. Back then, it was by car, and hardly anything was open, and the roadways were desolate. This time, we decided to fly, and it was an altogether different story. Yes, there was traffic, but gee, Perry—I hate to tell you this—it was anything but terrific.
Our son Jordan and daughter-in-law Melinda had come down from Washington, D.C. to join us for the weekend. Following our very full day at church on Christmas Eve, the four of us were scheduled to fly out of Raleigh-Durham airport on Christmas afternoon, to see our parents in Florida. When we arrived at the airport, we pulled up to the parking garage adjacent to the terminal and found there was "no room in the inn"—literally. The place was full. So I had to drop off my family and our luggage at the curb, drive back out from the terminals, and use one of the more distant park-and-ride lots. Even there, I had to search and search until finally I discovered one single unoccupied parking space, for which I thanked the Lord. RDU was crowded, to say the least. And so was our flight. There were all kinds of folks heading to Disney World and the warm Florida sun. When our plane finally touched down at Orlando International Airport, it was just hours after some unanticipated Christmas Day tornadoes had ripped through Central Florida. Fortunately, however, our flight was largely uneventful and turbulence-free. And we enjoyed our brief time with our family and friends in Clermont.
In retrospect, I never imagined so many people would be flying on Christmas Day. Never having done it before, I erroneously assumed that the airport would be comparatively quiet and significantly less populated. While the crowds certainly must have been smaller than the day before—Christmas Eve—Christmas at the airport surprisingly looked and felt like just about any other day.
What a contrast this was with the previous Friday evening, when Jordan and Melinda arrived in Danville by train. In case you’ve never done it, going to the old Danville train station downtown on Craghead Street late at night can be a somewhat surreal and even mysterious experience…especially when you’re meeting an arrival at 1:30 AM. The setting almost feels like you’re in an old movie. At any moment you halfway expect Humphrey Bogart—complete with trench coat, fedora and cigarette—to step out of the fog and kiss a tearful Ingrid Bergman goodbye.
At that late hour—or early hour, if you prefer—a handful of people showed up at the old station to meet the small contingent of passengers getting off in Danville, a minor stop on the long run of the Amtrak Crescent, originating out of New York and culminating in New Orleans. From the way some of our church members had previously described the local Amtrak stop to me, I thought perhaps the train wouldn’t even slow down, and Jordan and Melinda would have to take a flying leap and jump off like the cheapskate dad and his family on the Capital One commercials. Fortunately, such was not the case. The train did actually stop, and a handful of shadowy figures disembarked in the murky darkness. After a few moments, we recognized two of the silhouettes coming toward us. It was good to have our son and his wife home with us.
After all of the holiday hustle and bustle, I must say that it’s good to be back in Danville with our holiday travels behind us. After an eighteen-year hiatus, Danville has very quickly become home for Sandy and me once again. Without question, these past several weeks at Mount Hermon have seemed like one grand homecoming. When we worshiped with you on Christmas Eve—and celebrated the Lord’s Supper together—it was like being with family. And why shouldn’t it? After all, you’re our family in Christ. Thank you for helping to make us feel so welcome here. As we move into the new year, please know that it’s truly good to be home with you—not only for the holidays, but every day.
Pastor Danny
