Ford Matipa

One Day in the Poetic Faith of Dr. Ford Matipa

"It was only yesterday that I looked Elmhurst straight in the eyes and would not believe what I saw. Elmhurst was crying and weeping for her children; afraid she would loose them to social services. Her sorrow was palpable...and who better to know than I, one of her surviving children." An historic church had just burnt down. Welcome to the year of our Lord, 1995-circa."It's okay to cry, mama," I said, comforting her. Therefore, it was that I made a promise to tell of her story and of her children. Shout it abroad about those of White Anglo-Saxon European (WASP) era to a generation of immigrants (eager to assimilate by shedding their ancestral embodiment). Life always takes us through periods of peaks and valleys: as individuals, couples, members of families, congregations and the community at large. Elmhurst Baptist Church (as a congregation) and the surrounding community experienced such a baptism by fire. The epicenter of it all was an old boiler that led to a four-alarm fire, on that fateful Wednesday morning, of November 15, 1995. I realized then that such an event was not the first, nor would it be the last to befall the faithful. Therefore, I pledged to tell of this story in poetry that others may learn and take courage from the Biblical inspirational words that "this too shall pass."I was a witness to every event presented in this book. The sorrow I feel today is in that the reflective memories in the book have come too late for most of the people who have gone to be with the Lord. I know they are glad, that we have not forgotten about them. Sister Kellene Holt would always say, "I know you, young ones will carry on things." In addition, Bob McPherran would remind me never to forget the Boy Scouts and Cub Scouts. In telling the story of Elmhurst, I also tell the story of my personal spiritual and poetic journey and the many areas I have served the Elmhurst, Queens and Metropolitan New York Communities. As Moderator, Trustee, Deacon, Adult Sunday Scho