Convention was three 12-hours days, 11,000 righteous steps a day going hotel-convention center-hotel — and then, midday on this beautiful Baltimore Monday, the voice of Gay Clark Jennings, president of the House of Deputies, saying over Presiding Bishop Michael B. Curry’s cell phone speaker that the House of Deputies was nearly done, and the bishops could adjourn.
Michael said, “Alleluia” — and a little voice in my head said, “You can get an earlier flight!”
But no. Wheels up at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow for L.A. will be just fine. The photo of the view from my room of the inner harbor, with Federal Hill on the other side, a U.S. stronghold in the war of 1812, helps you understand why a long-delayed walk around downtown was irresistible.
Here are some of the faces and sights I encountered as a free man in Baltimore – friends from Tennessee (John) and Michigan’s Upper Peninsula (Rick and Br. David), where my grandparents once worshiped faithfully at Good Shepherd in St. Ignace; the Sept. 11 memorial outside the World Trade Center, honoring Maryland’s dead; tall ships, and captivating banners outside the Chesapeake Shakespeare Company; historic Zion Lutheran Church of Baltimore, founded in 1755, a conversation piece for my next chat with Bishop Brenda Bos; and a sign that folks from Montana, no doubt known to the Rt. Rev. Franklin Brookhart, are heading home, too.
