It was 1950 when the challenge presented itself. The only apartment my mother could find in bombed out Munich, Germany was an attic flat. Two rooms, about seven feet wide and fifteen feet long, under a mansard roof. The view was great, however the stairs leading up to the rooms counted one-hundred-and-ten steps. ( The full stories are in my book)
Not only did we have to carry our groceries up 110 steps, but also our coal and bicycles every day. Needless to say, lots of good exercise. But who cared about exercise in those days. We did not even know about germs and never hear of calories.
One fun thing for a kid my age and size was the method I got down those flights of stairs.
For five years, until we immigrated to the US, I practiced and perfected the sliding down on the banisters. I could master the five stories of elevation in just seconds. The banisters were of wood and slick as a greased eel from decades of use.
Over the years I've been challenged to slide down banisters in many different public buildings, and other inviting single rails.
Since I'm now a grown man, and have to portray a certain maturity in my community, I don't take the opportunity to show off my sliding skills other than at my home church. (Where being a goofball is accepted).
My church is endowed with the perfect sliding rail. I've been sliding that rail for over thirty years. Many kids have tried to imitate the grace and style of a seventy-year-old phenom.
Come visit Mt. Olivet Baptist Church. I welcome the challenge. I might even lend you my Bible with which to balance on the way down the rail.
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