It’s time to clear the air. To let the cat out of the proverbial bag. I’ve carried the secret, along with a select few other people, for long enough. Integrity demands that somebody, after 30-plus years, say something. I guess it’ll have to be me.
Okay, deep breath, here goes:
There is no Earl Trimbley.
Okay, exhale. I’ll pause here to let that sink in… I know it’s a shock. Now here, the late Paul Harvey fans (not his real name, either), is “the rest of the story.” [click to continue…]
(A Turning Point Story)
“This is my god,” he said, pointing emphatically to the marquee below him.
“This” was the Midtown Cinema – Mobile’s downtown porn theater in the 1970s.
It was a Friday night, and a group of us had met to do street ministry in downtown Mobile. We left the church parking lot armed with tracts – little booklets that explain the facts of the gospel – and hearts filled with boldness and expectancy. The people I joined on that particular night were a who’s who of influence and friendship during my high school and early college days – Terry, Wayne, Greg, Pat, Pam, among others. We spent some time at the bus station, as well as the sidewalks beneath the majestic oaks that line Government Boulevard. We gave literature to anybody who would take it, and talked to anybody who would stop. I remember that several people prayed to receive Christ that night. Most didn’t.
[click to continue…]