Christmas Eve service at the First Baptist Church of Ford City was tradition. I would always ride from there to pap’s after the service with Uncle Eric and his girlfriend at the time. We had a spread of cold cuts, fried chicken and veggies waiting for us. It was almost torture. I had to wait until everyone arrived and had eaten before the meticulous wrapping was destroyed. I was the only kid present since my cousins lived hours away and showed up a few days after Christmas. The other guests were distant relatives, second and third cousins, the preacher, his family and dogs running everywhere.