Jerry Martin’s Daybook

Abigail and I went to a nearby college to hear a friend of mine, who is a historian, speak.  The lecture was to be in the Chapel.  We assumed that meant the main campus chapel, and so we went there, looking for the event.  The building seemed to be empty but large, with corridors and multiple levels we couldn’t be sure.  There was no sign of help, until a young man sauntered in.  He looked benign, with a pigtail and a smock like a hospital orderly, so we asked him for help.  He knew all the nooks and crannies and we soon confirmed that the meeting must be somewhere else.  I asked the young man what he was doing at the chapel.  He was a witch, he explained, and leader of the Wiccan discussion group that would be meeting shortly.  Only in America!

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