Strange things were afoot in Tennessee in 2006
part 2 of The Crouch Chronicles
Before diving back into where I left off last time, I did want to solve a little mystery. Before I left to visit Christian for the first time, I posted the following on his Facebook wall.
In my last post, I had no idea what I meant when I called Christian, “SC.” But then I found this old post.
Manatees have always been one of my favorite animals, and I told Christian that early on. “Sea cow” is another term for manatee, and so this post makes me think that we were using sea cow (SC) as a term of endearment. I have no other explanation other than that, and I certainly have no defense.
Back to the narrative.
After meeting Christian online and deciding we needed to meet in person, I drove to Tennessee, found my way to the campus of the University of the South, and parked my car in the gravel driveway of the German House (“Das Deutche Haus”), where he lived.
The German House was founded in 1978 by Professor James Davidheiser, who was Christian’s primary German professor during his time in Sewanee and whose wife was also Christian’s high school German teacher. The house was meant to be a place where students studying German could bond over their shared language interest.
Christian met me at the car, gave me a side hug, as he said, “I’m going to give you an awkward Christian side hug.” At the time, I was so nervous that I assumed he was saying that all of his side hugs were awkward, as if Awkward Christian Side Hug was a known thing, but later I realized he was probably referring to the principle I was also taught growing up in the height of purity culture, which is that if men hug women from the front, it is inherently inappropriate. And so he gave me a side hug, even though side hugs are pretty awkward, and to be honest, I’m not much of a hugger. Whatever the intended provenance of the expression, it was definitely awkward. I don’t remember our conversation after the side hug, but I think the next thing we did was get me settled into where I was going to stay.
Christian had arranged for me to stay in the dorm room of two girls he knew. Maddie was from Chicago and Molly was from Columbia, although I didn’t know her, which came as a great shock to Christian.1 I remember very little about this because I spent almost no time in the dorm room with them other than to sleep.
I had arrived on a Thursday because Christian had gotten the weekend off his part-time job at a local restaurant. He was part of a campus ministry called BCM (Baptist Campus Ministries), and they met on Thursdays, so one of our first official activities was to go to that together.
We had met up with a few of his friends ahead of time (maybe for dinner?) and so we all went together to the building where they had BCM. I don’t know if Christian was ahead of me or behind me, but his friend Matt was holding the door open as I walked in.
“I’m glad to see you’re not actually a 40-year-old man living in your parents’ basement,” he said dryly.
It had not occurred to me to think about how Christian’s friends perceived our relationship, and this only increased my nerves, because now I felt like I needed to prove that I was definitely not a creepy guy, even though by all accounts I was a 20-year-old woman.
Twenty years later, the memories of the BCM meeting are hazy, but I will never forget sitting in a row of chairs along the wall with my Bible, watching Christian interact with other students, seeing him laughing and speaking extremely loudly. Up to this point, all my interactions with him had been through online messages, and they had all been one-on-one. I’d never seen him in his natural environment. I thought to myself, If I went to school here and had first experienced him this way, I wouldn’t go near him with a ten-foot pole.2 But that wasn’t my first experience, because I had gotten to know what was underneath all that through his blog and through our conversations, and I was still interested.
He was leading the meeting that night, both on guitar and in the Bible study. At one point in the discussion time, he asked a question. I don’t remember what the question was, but I nervously referenced something in 1 Timothy in answer to the question. He seemed pleased at the answer, and I hoped that I had seriously impressed him with my Bible knowledge.
After BCM, we did what he always did after BCM — went to Waffle House.3 We went with two of his friends, but I can’t remember which ones.4 Technically, I guess this was our first date.
Our first official date, however, would not take place until the following night. Christian worked at a restaurant called Pearl’s Cafe.
Six months after Christian graduated and stopped working there, several buildings on the property burned down. Here’s the article from a local paper in November 2008.
Christian has kept up with many local friends over the years, and shortly after there were already rumors circulating about the fire having been started to collect insurance money. I went down a bit of a rabbit hole to see if anything ever came of this and discovered a 2011 lawsuit from the owners against their insurance company, which seems to have happened because they wanted the insurance company to pay them for the fire damage. In 2010, however, Susan’s parents were found murdered in their home, which was set on fire to destroy evidence. In 2016, both of the Woffords were found guilty of elder exploiting in the case of Susan’s aunt, her mom’s sister. All I am saying is, there is a lot of harm against the elderly and a lot of fire in their background, and I have some questions.5
Anyway, we had a very expensive dinner at Pearl’s about 24 hours after meeting in person for the first time.
As you can tell from this picture, Christian was playing it totally cool and I was about to wet my pants. My eyes are red because this was taken with a flash on a digital camera and technology to remove red eyes post-production was limited. Also, what is Christian’s haircut?
The next day was Saturday, and we spent the day hanging out together. I’m sure we ate at Sewanee’s dining hall, McClurg, and then we sat on the couch in Das Deutche Haus and watched a movie I had never seen before: Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Because it was my first time watching the film, I was unable to file away many of the key quotes from the movie, including, “Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.” For years to come, Christian would say that whenever we encountered a Circle K, and I just thought it was a dumb saying he made up. We also played “the Dot Game,” which is a game where you take turns drawing one line at a time, and when your line completes a square, you get to write your initials in the box and continue drawing lines until you don’t complete a square. If you plan it right, you can create a section that allows you to complete dozens of squares in one turn if the other person isn’t paying attention. Whoever completes the most squares wins.
At some point that afternoon, knowing that I would be heading home the next day, we had a serious conversation about our relationship—a DTR, if you will. Despite our very different personalities, hanging out together for the weekend had only affirmed that we really liked each other and that we were compatible. I remember wondering how it was going to work, dating long distance. Christian said he would come visit me whenever he could, and if I could try to come visit him, too, it would work. We agreed to try to see each other every six weeks, if not more often.
I had just turned 20; he was still 19; all things seemed possible.
We celebrated the official beginning of our relationship by going to Sonic that evening and getting cherry limeade slushes. Then Christian attempted to impress me by driving us to Alabama.6
The next morning, I went with him to church. He had met Jesus in this church under the discipleship of the youth pastor there, and that church was his family. I was welcomed immediately merely because I came with him, and it was encouraging to me to see someone who was invested in the local church.
After church, I had to drive back to South Carolina, and parting was difficult. We took many awkward pictures to commemorate the last day of our first weekend together.
I was hooked, but I came home feeling very, very nervous about what a long distance relationship would look like. I also came home to the following item on my desk in my apartment, left by well-meaning and slightly concerned friends.
My roommate’s boyfriend and his best friend, with whom I was also friends, had bought this and written, “Let’s make this one last” on the inside. I didn’t notice the inscription until a few months ago—I was so horrified at the time that I hid the book away.7 I don’t know exactly what they meant, because I only dated one guy in college, and while I had met another guy through the blogosphere and had spoken to him on the phone, it hadn’t gone so far as to be considered dating. Then again, they were 19-year-old guys, and while they were pretty solid dudes, perhaps they didn’t even know what they were saying. Little did we realize that the comments by Christian’s friend Matt and even the silly book on my desk were portents of the dismay, confusion, and shock we would continue to experience as we told people that we met online.8
No one thought the relationship was going to last. I was reminded often of all the things stacked against the future of our relationship. Not only did we have two more years of college during which we’d continue to live 400 miles apart, but Christian was going to be spending 5 months on another continent the following year.
But at some point the following week, Christian changed his relationship status on Facebook to In a Relationship with Chelsey Karns. We were determined to prove them all wrong.
Google tells me the population of the greater metropolitan area of Columbia was over 700,000 in 2006. In comparison, the entire county in which he grew up and went to (the only) high school had fewer than 40,000 people at that time.
This is the kind of romantic thought upon which all great relationships are built.
So began our family’s Waffle House lore, which continues to this day. One year, we were traveling on Christmas Day and there were no restaurants open other than Waffle House. We ate there for lunch and dinner, and the kids still talk about The Day We Ate At Waffle House Twice.
He thinks we went with a big group, and maybe we did, but we were sitting at several different tables. I remember sitting next to him at a booth, with two guys sitting across from us. It’s likely that they were two of the guys who ended up being in our wedding, but time has blurred their faces.
The restaurant was reopened in 2012 and has changed hands several times. It is now called La Bella Pearl’s.
We had very odd ways of trying to impress each other back then.
If there were an award for “Books that Aged Terribly,” this book would win a thousand times over. One day maybe I’ll write a post sharing the table of contents and subsequent advice.
To anyone more than 5-10 years younger than us, this probably seems hard to believe in the age of swiping for dates. Match.com and eHarmony both existed when we met, but they were not in the mainstream consciousness. It wasn’t until 2008-2010 that those websites really got big, and it took several more years before greater society seemed to accept those as legitimate ways to meet a future long-term partner.
I don't think I've ever been inside a Waffle House. Please don't hate me.
A very fun post!