Today my oldest daughter and I attended the Easter sunrise service coordinated by a coalition of the Knoxville Inner City Churches. The service began pre-dawn in the First Presbyterian Church Cemetery; the crowd surrounded by the dust of many of Knoxville's founding families. Just before sunrise (such as it was on this gloomy day) the canter of bagpipes struck up and began to resonate throughout the cemetery.
Whether it was my appreciation of the great men and women interred within the old churchyard, or my deep pride at being a native Knoxvillian, or maybe even some familiar strain of the pipes recognized from deep within by my Scots-Irish DNA, the effect was utterly chilling.
After some initial opening remarks, the crowd moved into the chapel for the remainder of what ended up being an excellent service. On our way back to the car, my daughter and I walked through the cemetery and tried to locate the grave of Samuel Carrick. We eventually did, and, after paying our respects, beat a hasty retreat to the warmth of our car and eventually the IHOP down on Kingston Pike.
The overall experience was absolutely perfect, and I feel certain she and i have just established a new holiday tradition.
