The Rabbit Hole, Google Street View, a Fire, and Fond Memories

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WARNING: this is boring. The myLotters from Daytona Beach might find it interesting, given that it involves a news story from last year, but most of you are just going down memory lane with me. Years I spent in vanity and pride Caring not my Lord was crucified Yesterday I found something that’ll probably keep me playing for the rest of my life: Google Street View. I started out in Key West and was very impressed that the view takes in the gorgeous waters that surround the area. I spent my teenage years in Daytona Beach, so I took the street view there. I wandered around my old stomping grounds, looking for things that still existed from when I lived there 49 years ago. Short answer: not much. The first motel my parents managed, which was on South Atlantic Avenue about half a block from the ocean, was gone. So was the “snowbird” hotel they managed on Main Street (although the footprint is still quite visible on the satellite and street views). AND the house we lived in. AND the duplex my best friend from junior high school lived in. (I’m amazed the cemetery that was behind her house is still there!). AND my junior high school (there’s an arena sitting where it used to be). Now I’ve given Jesus everything Now I gladly own Him as my King As I meandered through the streets I was happy to at least see the church we went to when I was a teenager, Calvary Baptist Church, was still there. Well, asterisk. The Google mapping was done in 2019, so the building was still there, minus its steeple. I did some research and discovered the building had been damaged by a tornado. There was also some construction fencing around it, indicating that maybe they were going to refurbish the building, which was built in 1915 on the corner of Peninsula Street and Ora Avenue. Then I found some disheartening news: the building had burned to the ground in June, 2021. I haven’t found any subsequent reports, but the news reports the day of the fire called it “suspicious.” The building had no electricity, and it was set for demolition anyway. Mercy there was great, and grace was free Pardon there was multiplied to me I have nothing but terrific memories living in Daytona Beach as a teenager. What wasn’t to love: my asthma disappeared, I could see the Atlantic Ocean from my 5th period English class, and I was really carefree. (Sadly so many 14-year-olds don’t know what it means to have a life like that anymore. ) When we moved there we quickly found Calvary Baptist Church, and it became our home. My best friend in junior high went there, too, as did the law student she’d eventually marry. We had a neat tradition there when it came time to greet the visitors. Most of the “evangelical” churches in those days would have the visitors stand so the ushers could give them a welcome packet. Not us. The visitors remained seated and the congregation stood. We would then sing the old Bill Newell hymn, “At Calvary,” as we’d greet any visitors sitting near us. Heck, some people even walked all over the church building to greet people! There my burdened soul found liberty At Calvary Bill Newell was a problem child, the son of a preacher. He was kicking against his father’s teachings, but the elder Newell kicked back, sending his son to Moody Bible Institute in Chicago. There Newell found his faith and eventually became a professor. One day, between classes, he wrote the lyrics to the song we now know as “At Calvary.” A fellow professor took the lyrics, written on an old envelope, and put the music to it while Newell was teaching his next class. That was in 1895. Oh, the Love that drew Salvation’s plan Oh, the Grace that brought it down to man The church isn’t the building, and I know that. My friend from junior high later told me that, as many congregations do, the Calvary Baptist membership grew smaller and older. As such, they looked to the scant younger couples in the congregation to do everything. My friend and her husband, who had two young children, moved their membership to another church. Eventually Calvary Baptist ceased to exist as a congregation, years before the tornado knocked the steeple off and the fire knocked the building down. As for that “congregation,” I know that my mom, dad, best friend, and her husband are in an eternal congregation today. Daytona Beach has a hole where the historic building used to stand. And I have the great memories. Lyrics: “At Calvary,” written in 1895 by William R. Newell (lyrics) and Daniel Towner (music) The news story: