SAINT CATHERINE CHURCH

Copperhill, Tennessee

The church in the foreground; City Hall beyond (Red brick building; Cemetery Hill in the background

Gathering Place of the Local Catholics

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OUR CHURCH IS NAMED IN HONOR OF SAINT CATHERINE LABOURE
A Daughter of Charity of Saint Vincent de Paul

Saint Catherine (1806-1876)

SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT
by Father Paul A. Hostettler
Reprint from my weekly column in the local paper, The Basin Prospector
(Last) November 12, 2002

When my brothers and I were children (I was five at the time) we went to live on a farm for four of what I consider among the happiest years of my childhood. During those years I learned to ride ponies; starting out riding bareback which is the best way to do it because you learn to keep your balance without depending on a saddle with stirrups. My pony riding experiences in childhood benefitted me tremendously in my teen years when I went to work at our Catholic summer camp near Nashville. I was fortunate in my first year working at camp that I was placed in the horsemanship program as a stable boy under an expert horseman, Captain John Grimes, U.S. Army Reserves, who taught me how to care for horses as well as some of the finer points of riding, including jumping. After two years apprenticeship, and Captain Grimes had been called into active duty, I was put in charge of the horsemanship program and held the job for seven summers. We usually had about fifteen horses at the camp each summer and I always chose a particularly good one to be “mine” for the season. The first summer I chose one for his speed. That’s the way it is with youth: always craving speed. Another time it was a big horse that had only a few months earlier captured the Tennessee high jump championship. My all-time favorite was a five-gaited piebald (black and white) gelding that I also taught to two track (walk sideways). By the way, my favorite color on a horse is dark bay. At each riding session I was responsible for the safety of ten to twelve boys ranging in skill from tyro to fairly good. I pride myself that in all those years no boy was ever injured. I can’t say the same for myself. Once I was kicked in the knee; another time in the hip. I was bitten a number of times. There were some close calls. I can’t tell you how many times I was stepped on, bucked off, or had a horse fall down with me–all without significant injury. But the closest call happened around dusk one evening when I was practicing changing leads while doing figure eights. I was far away from the rest of the camp and all alone. At one point I made a mistake and caused the horse to cross his front legs and fall over, right on top of me. For several minutes I thought I might be stuck there all night or, worse still, have the horse roll over the wrong way and crush me. As it happened, the horse got up the right way, thus freeing me. I was uninjured. I learned a valuable lesson: never take unnecessary chances. That lesson applies more importantly to the moral life: One should never take a chance that he can get away with doing things that could lead to moral disaster. Have a good week. The following links are to NNCC members web pages Davidson Web Page | Judge's Web Page | O'Connell Web Page Ollis Web Page | NNCC Geneology Special Interest Group Ray/Hollis Families | David Ray Web Page | Mountain Poet's Web Page THE FOLLOWING IS A CATHOLIC SITE WITH LINKS TO OTHER CATHOLIC SITES Quiet Man's Page of Hope! TOP OF PAGE

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