I have recently reconnected with an old friend.

Although we never went to school together, we did do church together. His father sang in the choir and my mother played the piano. They even sang in a quartet together and often would sing at church functions. They called themselves the Fellowship Four.

Terry’s father was Native American and was affectionately known as “Big Chief.” Big Chief coached our church baseball team and we were good enough to win a championship. Terry played second base most of the time and I played shortstop. Our double play combination was second to no one. This picture hangs in my home office and it is one of most cherished sports paraphrenia. It is second only to my Al Kaline autographed bat.

Terry is the one to the left and that is my brother, Stewart, kneeling.

Those were some great times, and they were all focused around church. Our church youth group was our social center. We worshipped together at least three times a week. Birthdays, Christmas and other special occasions were often celebrated in someones basement listening to Bob Seegar, and for the slow dancing, Bread. Yes we were a Baptist youth group, and yes, we danced.

In our younger days Terry and I would often compete for the affection of the same young lady. Also a member of our church. Everything was focused around church.

We went to church camp at Bambi Lake. We went to Vacation Bible School together (10 days back in those days). We often played football or played catch with a baseball before or after a church service. The area in front of the church was a great place to play. When it snowed we would slide on the ice on the sidewalk.

We rode our bikes to Metro Beach, went to Tiger games, attended church picnics, and the list could go on and on. We were friends and spent as much time together as possible.

College and life callings finally pushed us into separate directions. We lost contact and became absorbed in our own lives–a mistake on my part that should not have happened. However, I always knew that Terry was there for me if ever I should need him. He came to my rescue when my father was hospitalized in Detroit and I needed help. One phone call and he was there.

My love for Terry Cummings never went away although we were separted by time and space. The memories of our time together was burned into my memory. It is so exciting to be connected again. Sunday Night we texted while the Detroit Lions were taking care of business with the Minnesota Vikings. I found myself wishing that we were in someone’s basement spending time together again.

I recently found out he rides a Harley too. We talked about getting together someday, somewhere, and riding together again. I am glad the Harleys have replaced the bikes (just not sure my legs could handle a bike trip to Metro Beach!). I have placed this Harley ride on my bucket list and look forward to that day.

I say all this to say that those early days in church youth groups are important and can develop the type of fellowship and friendship and Jesus intended for his followers.

It is an honor and privilege to call Terry my friend and brother in Christ.

This is my story…