Grill'n in Corrolla

Double-rainbow over the beach house!  
The Carolina coast.  A place of deep and abiding serenity.  A place of incredible natural beauty.  A place of mysterious sorrow.

And now, thanks to our crew today, a place where Christendom alums will hopefully continue to gather in fellowship for years to come.

On a side note, whenever I use the word fellow or fellowship I am reminded of a very PC professor I had at Seton Hall University.  You see, he believed the word fellow to be sexist as it implied a male relationship unless, of course, one were to couple it with a qualifying word.

“When interpreting the Torah for their fellow and sister Jews…” he would say.

If you ever doubt the validity of your Christendom education, be thankful you didn’t take a class with that guy.

A little food (or a lot as the case may be), some drinks, and a group of people with a common alma mater came together and bonded.

The Outer Banks are a chain of barrier islands protecting the inland sounds and coastline of North Carolina from the normally calm North Atlantic Ocean.  Occasionally the sea goes nuts.  In those moments these handful of islands bear the brunt of nature’s fury.  The northern reach of the banks are home to the towns of Kitty Hawk, Duck, and Corrolla.  And it is here in Corrolla that we, Karla and I, were pleased to host our first event — that is, we actually hosted the event.  This means that I grilled and Karla chilled (with the guests). 

Day 8/Event #4

No proper Sunday could begin without a family outing to mass.  Remember how I asked you to be thankful earlier that you didn’t have that professor?  Now I ask you to be thankful you didn’t attend this church.  Let me just say that the priest gave a total of four homilies.  Yes, he spoke at length before each reading (longer than the actual readings) explaining their meanings ahead of time.  Fr. Happy also thought he was the greatest orator since Orson Welles and couldn’t resist cracking jokes at the end of mass about all manner of things.  Spare me.

Karla being Karla, most of the food was prepared the night before.  This gave us some time to head to the beach for a while.  The air was hot and sticky, the water cold.  After twenty minutes I’d had enough and headed back.

At 4:00 I headed to the grill.  There is something about a grill – be it propane or charcoal – that brings out the best in a man.  I find it calming, standing there flipping things over again and again.  I also feel a sense that in some small way I am actually providing something of value for the people I love.  Before the first burger got turned our guests began arriving.

And that’s all it took.

A little food (or a lot as the case may be), some drinks, and a group of people with a common alma mater came together and bonded.

Typical of Karla (have I mentioned how awesome she is?) the kids partook of an Olympics-style series of games while the adults got settled.  I grilled for another forty-five minutes or so, constantly refreshed by my army of minion-children.  If you’re smart you can get kids to do anything you want.  “Son, do you know how to make a gin and tonic?  Well, there’s really no wrong way.  Why don’t you give it the old college try?  That’s my boy!  Off you go.”  At this point I may have actually been addressing a lightpost.  Did I mention how the minions had been refreshing my drink since noon?

Greetings from Corrolla!
Mingling, mixing, and mulling seemed to be the order of the evening.  Our largest event so far saw dozens of Christendom alums and scores of their children gathered in pockets throughout the house, on the many decks, and by the pool catching up on old times and discussing their current lives.  Again, the thrust of this tour is to bring alums together and by that measure this stop was a huge success.

By the end of the evening it was time for the obligatory “group shot”.  Thanks to a clever photographer (who never happens to appear in these pictures) the picture was taken from the crow’s nest on the roof.

I realize now after reading through this post that I alluded to mysterious sorrow in the opening shot but never elaborated…

Over the centuries hurricanes have battered the coast, ships have run afoul of converging currents and sunk, slaves have struggled for freedom in the stops of the Underground Railroad on these islands.  Of late, the is a darker tragedy yet to be told by the deceptively glistening sands of these beautiful beaches.  Many have descended upon the beach to grill and chill but few have completed the survey.  This makes me sad.  That’s sorrow, right?

Think about it.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *