I was still sixteen when I joined my older sister at Ambassador Baptist College, (ABC) a non-accredited IFB school which was then in Shelby, NC. Although I had been sent there as an alternative to a reform school for girls, I was absolutely thrilled. My father was more than a thousand miles away in MN, the rules were a breeze compared to his, there were lots of guys and the food was plenteous and delicious. I didn’t even care that I had to fully pay my own way including room, board and tuition.
So, it wasn’t long before I had picked up three jobs.
I worked for Ms. Robinette who ran the college kitchen and for Mr. Noriss who oversaw the school’s housekeeping and maintenance. And by the time I turned seventeen, two months after my arrival, I also worked as a cashier at the Bi-Lo grocery store. And that’s where I met Rashaad. He had come through my line with Mr. Sims who had a bit of a guest celebrity presence at ABC. I had only met Bud Sims the week prior after a morning chapel service. We were introduced because I was being recruited to work at his Bible camp during the soon approaching summer.
ABC students often accepted summer “ministry” positions.
I would compare them to internship positions or to the missions that LDS young men sometimes complete. I had been on the fence about working at Harvest Time Bible Camp. I wanted to but Bi-Lo wasn’t about to let me be off for the whole summer. It was bad enough that I could never work a Wednesday night or Sunday, not even in an emergency. But then Mr. Sims had went and introduced him that day in my line asking, “You know Rashaad right?”
I had seen him helping Mr. Norris with maintenance. And occasionally, I had noticed him sitting next to Mr. Sims in chapel. He often hung around afterwards and chatted with the students who didn’t have class the next hour. Hmmm, they must come separately, I had observed. He couldn’t not be noticed. Rashaad embodied the definition of a popular free spirit. Though he never talked to me, he had always sought out eye contact with me. Inevitably, I would soon feel compelled to lower my eyes after feeling embarrassed for having read his thoughts or he mine or both.
“Connie, will be working with us this summer,” Mr Sims told Rashaad. I had opened my mouth to say that I wasn’t yet sure. But then I’d shut it and tried to neither agree nor disagree as I handed his receipt to him and bid them both goodnight. After that, I found myself thinking about Rashaad and how Mr. Sims had said he would be doing grounds maintenance and construction work during the weeks preceding Bible camp. And so at the last minute, I made up my mind. And on my night off, I went to Bi-Lo and quit. Then I started packing for Harvest Time.
Of course, I went early during the pre-camper weeks. Three times a day, us workers gathered for meals. And we often sat at a campfire after dinner. I looked forward to these times because all the guys would be there. Rashaad wasn’t the only one on whom I had a crush. Some of the the staff were from ABC. But others, like Rashaad, were from various organizations and churches with whom Mr. Sims was affiliated. Rashaad, I had learned, was a loyal follower of the old IFB preacher, Dr. Harold Sightler. And he was aspiring to be a student at the preacher’s seminary,
Rashaad had said that his roommate, who became his best friend, introduced him to Dr. Sightler’s preaching while they were in the military together. I had noticed right away that Rashaad did not seem to have engrained into him I Corinthians 7:1 which reads, It is good for a man not to touch a woman. When communicating, he used touch like it was an exclamation or question mark and I was hyper-aware of this. The rule for IFB Christians as well as for ABC students, was that opposite sexes do not touch other than during a handshake as part of a greeting or introduction.
Also, when sitting together, couples had to be spaced several inches apart.
And dates had to be chaperoned by a third party to ensure that the rules were followed. Rashaad and I certainly weren’t dating and in fact, we had very few exchanges during my first week there. But then one day, I was sent to the chapel to clean construction debris. I didn’t mind. I was out of the sun and besides I had done this job alongside my siblings for years. My father was not only a preacher but also a carpenter. And his five kids were his crew.
I swept up Sheetrock dust as Rashaad taped and spackled. Somehow, we regularly continued to be assigned to the same work areas. We laughed and had a good time. It wasn’t flirting as much as it was playing. But around the dinner table or campfire with everyone else, we acted as if we barely knew each other. Because of that, along with his habit of casually touching everyone and not just me, I decided Rashaad didn’t have any special interest in me after all. And besides, he called himself my big brother.