Stories
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He had the long dark greaser duck tail hair cut, dressed in the style and listened to the music, popular with the advent of Elvis Presley, Pat Boone, Chuck Berry, Little Richard and a host of others. His job was to give us a good church affiliated figure to identify with, as opposed to the bad influences that had become rock & roll pop culture.
One event that has stuck in my memory is that I got in the habit at some point, of rather than seating myself in the church proper for church service, I would slip into the cry room. It was a room big enough for about eight people, folding chairs, with a large plate glass window to view the service, and had a speaker in one corner at the ceiling, so that one could hear what was going on. It was for women who had crying babies. It was mostly unused and so I usually had it to myself. One time Mosby comes in. He was a weirdo, twenty-one or older, small thin and homely looking, and he would buy us beer sometimes. He was not from this town, maybe having lived here for about three or four years. His claimed to be related to John Mosby the southern civil war character called romantically, 'The Gray Ghost', but we never took much stock in these kinds of stories from these kinds of anyone.
He seemed to be in need of attention. He comes into the cry room dressed for Sunday, and after awhile he pulls out a gun and shows it too me. Says he is going to shoot the pastor. I can't even remember which pastor it was.
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