Sabbatical -- Day 48: Que Pasa

August 12

Sunday morning. No worship today. A trip with Dr. Clyde Heflin to Green Turtle Bay on Lake Barkley to his sailboat, Plumb Fun.

A couple years ago I took a call from church member, Steve Humble. Steve -- "Jerry, I have a friend, who grew up in our church, who needs a minister to do the wedding. He's a sailor." Me -- "I'm in."

Two Septembers ago I united Jodi Schrick and Clyde Heflin in marriage and thus began a friendship with Clyde that I treasure. Clyde has been a brilliant physician in his life and at age 71 he is in the process of retiring. He welcomes me to his home. He welcomes me to his art collection, his books, his fancy and regular bourbon. He agreed to bring his boat to church camp; Sailing Camp, and be a counselor and captain for the camp. He is a treasure to me.

We left his house in my Tahoe for Lake Barkley about 11 am. At 3pm central time we were motoring out of Green Turtle Bay and across the canal to Kentucky Lake where we hoisted the jib, and relaxed, waiting for the weekend warriors to exit the lake on a Sunday night so the quiet of the water along the hull could be heard. As the jib filled and the boat surged forward the transom water played a melody as it curled into a wake behind us. We talked about medicine. We talked about physics; science; people; places; food; and classical music. We even listened to a bit of the soundtrack from Master and Commander as we sailed along.

A Pulmonologist sailing on the breath of the wind

It was such great fun. Back in May that wasn't so much the case.

In May, Clyde, Vincent Rosenthal and I went sailing. As we were climbing on the boat on our second day, Clyde slipped on the slats to the cabin door and broke his right kneecap. It was a horrendous moment, which is burned into my memory. Clyde was in terrible pain but still had the wherewithal to instruct Vincent and I, and Patrick Oswald who had come to talk about detailing the boat, how to splint his leg and get him out of the boat and into the car and on the way to the hospital. I was ready to call 911. Clyde had it covered, but it was a terrible day.

To sail with Clyde again was full of joy, and the wind was in our favor.

We pulled back into the slip at about 6:30 and Clyde produced a bottle of Bulleit Bourbon (which has a Winchester connection). We shared a cocktail and then went to the Commonwealth Yacht Club for dinner. There we had another cocktail, and this time, we drank in memory of Henry Lee Rosenthal Jr, Bussie. This one was for him. Then, Clyde told me Bussie stories until we both laughed to tears, recounting the phrase Bussie used so often, "que pasa."

We made our way to our favorite stop for the night, the Grand Rivers Inn. The Grand Rivers Inn is run by a Hungarian woman named Viktoria. It is a very old hotel with a mid-century vibe. For $80 a night you get one of the cleanest hotel rooms you will ever find, a comfortable bed, and a long balcony with an iron rail upon which you can rest your feet as you drink the last bourbon of the night and tell stories of long-ago Winchester.

 


I am so fortunate and grateful for Clyde and for people like Clyde who are a part of FCC Winchester or a part of the Winchester community. What a good day.

Peace and Love,
Jerry