Williston

 Williston

I never tire of traveling the sixty miles the “back way” down to Williston. I recall the day way back in sixty seven we pulled in to the white wood parsonage on Noble beside the four goal court and the three story Methodist Church, school right next door. Coming from the crowded duplex apartment in Wilmore, Kentucky, we were in wonder.

Then years later, in the eighties, after we had moved to Lake City in seventy seven, I cannot describe the elation of meeting a nurse at Shands in Gainesville, inviting me down to teach her photography at her home in Williston. The little CRV covered the sixty doing eighty.  And so the good times returned to Williston.  I will always look forward until the day they take me out to Orange Hill, of returning to Williston, though lately it has been sad traveling. 

The Methodist Church on Noble with the tree my father planted.