Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Part Two

My final pair of gloves and mask, resting on the dumpster
 in front of the Davis residence.

We went right to work Monday morning.

Even though only a few of our group had experience working with each other on previous relief efforts with the St. Paul's group, we divvied up tasks quickly and got down to business. By around 2:00 or so, I was ready to go outside in the sunshine, take off my filthy mask, and get some fresh air.

Joe Davis, the homeowner, was sitting on a bench at the end of the walkway. I went over to say hello and chat for a moment.

"You know," he said to me, "My wife is Lutheran. We were married in a Lutheran church in Brooklyn."

Really? I thought. That's interesting. Tom Omholt, our pastor, had his first parish in a Brooklyn church.

I don't know what prompted me to ask the next question, or even think of drawing some kind of association between the Davis family and Pastor Omholt. After all, there must be plenty of Lutheran churches in Brooklyn, a large borough full of churches. But I do tend to look for connections everywhere I go these days. I also tend to ask a lot of questions once I start interviewing people.

"When was this, Joe? And what was the name of the church?"

"St. Paul's Lutheran Church. We were married in 1983."

Wow. I thought I remembered that Tom's former church was also called St. Paul's. The timing also seemed to be about right. I could feel my pulse quicken slightly.

"Just a minute," I said to Joe, and ran up the ramp into the house.

"Tom, what was the name of your old parish in Brooklyn?"

"St. Paul's," he said. "There are two of them. It was the one near Flatbush."

Could it be? I thought.

"Joe," I said, returning outside, "what was the location of the church where you were married?"

"Avenue J, near Flatbush."

Incredible.

I ran back inside to convey this to Tom. The buzz started in the house as we began to realize that there could be a connection. Tom and Joe finally conferred face to face, and it was indeed confirmed:  Tom was most likely the pastor who married Joe and his wife, Trisha, 29 years earlier.

The Davis' youngest daughter, April, had come by the house again by this time. We excitedly told her the news. She promised to look for her parents' wedding photos that evening. Seemingly, so much time had passed that Tom and Joe just didn't recognize each other, nor did they recall each other's names.

The next day, the wedding photos confirmed what we now knew had to be true. Thomas Omholt was indeed the presiding pastor that April day in 1983.

Trisha Davis, Pastor Thomas Omholt, Joseph Davis

Trisha and Joe Davis

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the sublimity of this amazing discovery. That's a big part of the reason it has taken me three weeks to finally sit down and write this post. It would be easy enough to call this a coincidence, but as a very good friend of mine says, "I don't believe in coincidences."

So, call it what you will. It's still incredible to think that, 29 years after a certain Lutheran pastor, born and raised on Staten Island, presided over the marriage of a couple in Brooklyn, moved to Washington, D.C., and then returned to the Island to help this same couple restore their lives after the complete devastation of their home nearly three decades later .... Well, what do you call that?

End of Day Two. Left to right:  Tom Omholt, Barbara Omholt, Roger Branstiter and Tommy Omholt (both back row), Front:  Dawn Davis, Lexy Mueller, Karen Sease (in mask) Diana Lingel, Robert Hershey (in mask).

Later that day, there were murmurs of a potential renewal of vows, with Pastor Thomas Omholt presiding once again. I also suggested that we might consider donating a wheelchair for the Davis' oldest daughter, Debra, for whom the handicap ramp had been built. She is using a sub-par chair right now, and it would seem only fitting for us to offer to assist since we had already become so invested in the life of this family.

April Davis contacted the Staten Island Advance the next day to relay the news. The paper published the story a week later, giving further details of the Davis family's struggle following Hurricane Sandy. In it, you'll learn how Joe's long-lost wedding ring reappeared from behind a radiator while a previous volunteer group was there to begin the initial clean up and tear out of the sheetrock.

Now I understand why Joe Davis left his jacket and lunch sitting on the bench outside his devastated home that Monday afternoon, only to be drenched in the cold day-long rain the following day. He was overcome with awe and barely able to manage his emotions. He left us without even saying goodbye.

Previous post:  Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Part One.

Next up:  Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Part Three. See also Part Four, the Epilogue and the Post Script.

All photos copyright 2012 by Alexis H. Mueller.