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83 The sun coming up over the mountains to the east roused us from the pickup bed. After changing the flat tire and driving into Alpine, Pecos, Pudgie, and I ate breakfast at a truck stop on the edge of town. We then went back to the football field house where I showered and changed for the funeral service. I had agreed to meet Billy Rex at the church. He and I both arrived at the First Baptist Church a few minutes before one o’clock and parked across the street in the Thriftway Supermarket lot, as the church lot was already mostly full. As we walked across the street to the church, I inspected the building I had entered many times as a child going to Sunday school and church. The church was an imposing, dark brick structure with a curious domed roof over the center. I suddenly realized that I had seen this building before—it was almost an exact copy of Monticello,Thomas Jefferson’s home in Virginia.The entrance to the church was a large covered porch flanked by huge white columns, and covered by the peaked false front—classical Greek architecture Jefferson was said to have copied. As we walked up the steps I had a flash memory of a Sunday school class with kids in a row singing,“Jesus loves you, this I know, cause the Bible tells you so.” Inside, the church had changed a little in forty years—some new paint and new cushions on the pews—but it was still mostly as I remembered it. Dark oak pews formed a semicircle around the altar, which was in a corner of the large sanctuary. There was a balcony, also a semicircle, which covered about half of the lower level.The pews were covered with burgundy cushions, and the floor was carpeted in the same color.The minister’s lectern stood at the front of the altar stage, with four rows of choir seats behind. Above the choir seats, recessed into the wall, was the baptismal tank always found in Baptist churches. I was surprised that I was still a little intimidated by the place, more than forty years after having had the devil scared out of me by fire-breathing Baptist ministers. Billy Rex and I found seats in the first few rows, designated for “Family Members” by signs placed at the end of each of the rows. The first-floor seats were almost filled,and the balcony was more than half full.The eclectic crowd wore everything from jeans and boots to business suits. A full third of the men held cowboy hats on their laps. Chapter 19 6:30 AM, Saturday, October 9, 2004, Alpine, West Texas 84 I recognized almost everyone in the family section. Charlie was sitting on the first row with Roy Don and his wife. Next to them were Starlene and her husband Vernon. Crystal and her husband also sat on the front row but were separated from the other siblings by individuals I did not recognize. Billy Rex and I sat on the outside end of the second row with Robert Earl and his sister Blossom on the opposite end of the row. Aunt Frances sat in the middle of the row with Ida and Vera, her half sisters from Grandfather’s second marriage. Roughly a dozen other relatives filled the remaining reserved seats. I managed to catch a few eyes, nodded in greeting and silently mouthed hellos. Son’s coffin had been placed on the floor level in front of the altar. The top had once more been removed to reveal Son. Above him, seated near the lectern was the minister, dressed in a dark suit. However, there was not a choir. Sitting on the front row of the choir pews were what appeared to be six working cowboys, all in pressed jeans and white shirts buttoned to the top. Boots were the standard footgear, and cowboy hats rested on the pew beside them. There were also several guitars, a fiddle, and a base fiddle—a western band, I thought. I had little time to wonder about the choir. At a nod from the minister, the six men stood and took up their instruments but did not start playing. One stepped forward and hushed the crowd as he sang, without any music, in a clear baritone voice. He immediately captured everyone’s undivided attention as he began singing the sad old cowboy lament,“Streets...

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