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Burgruine-Wieladinge Gruppe

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Tiny Young Teen Slut

The Right Reverend David Spokane Bishop of Connecticut 12 Hamilton Way Dorrington, Connecticut Father Donald Taylor St. John's School Tripp, Connecticut Dear Father Taylor, July 1, 1996 As your Bishop, it has just come to my attention in a roundabout way that you refused publicly to give a would-be communicant the Sacrament of Bread and Wine in early June of this year at a communion service on the campus of Princeton University. As an Episcopal priest, you are required by the Rule found on page 409 of the Book of Common Prayer to report to me, your Bishop, all the circumstances in connection with a refusal to administer the Holy Sacraments to a would-be communicant. Please, therefore furnish me with a written explanation in fullest detail of the whole matter as promptly as possible. Only a fully ordained Episcopal priest can consecrate Holy Communion, but a priest does not have any personal discretion in whether or not to administer Holy Communion. I do not need to tell you that the withholding of the sacraments by an Episcopal priest to a would-be communicant is a matter of the utmost gravity. Such a sanction by an Episcopal priest on his own is only justified under the most serious circumstances. I hope and pray for your sake that you were justified in refusing the sacrament to the would-be communicant. As I say, let me hear from you as soon as possible. Sincerely yours, David Spokane Bishop Right Reverend David Spokane 12 Hamilton Way Dorrington, Connecticut Dear Bishop Spokane, July 15, 1996 This letter is, of course, in response to your letter of July 1, 1996, directing me to explain in "fullest detail" all the circumstances in connection with my refusal to give the sacraments to a would-be communicant. I realize fully the importance and gravity of the whole matter. Following my graduation from high school in Ohio, I managed to get through Princeton University by a combination of scholarships, loans, student aid and working in the dining rooms and in the summers as a camp counselor. In my freshman year, I was assigned to room with Archibald Bullock Montgomery, IV, or Archie as he was and is known. Archie was a young blueblood from the Philadelphia Main Line. Archie had graduated from Saint Stephen's which, as you know, is one of the outstanding boys' boarding schools in the State of Connecticut. He was a tall, slim, good looking young man with a dark complexion, sandy blond hair, small jet-black eyes which darted this way and that behind his horn-rimmed glasses and very white teeth. Archie was very aware of and proud of his good looks. Archie had a flashing smile, which at times ended as a smirk. Archie dressed in sports coats and gray flannels or English tailored suits. He could be charming when he wanted to be or when he wanted something. Archie played golf in the fall, squash in the winter and tennis in the spring. Archie was an avid bridge player, a game I had just barely heard of before I came to Princeton. Archie had little use for me. Archie, like many of my classmates at Princeton, was a chain smoker: he always had a Winston cigarette dangling from his mouth or from his nicotine stained fingers. I hated the dank smell which permeated our room from his cigarette smoking. I could always tell when Archie was in our room by his persistent smoker's hack. Archie was also very proud of his family and his lineage: he often quipped, "My great, great grandfather was a Loyalist before, during and after the American Revolution. Most of the family moved to Canada around the time of the American Revolution. One of my English ancestors lost his head along with King Charles when Cromwell came to power. My father did not lose his head to Roosevelt, but he sure lost most of the family's money due to Roosevelt's socialist policies!" He often added, "I am the last Montgomery in our line of the family. It is my job to produce a son or sons to carry on our name." To my great surprise, I found that Archie knew the New Testament as well as the Old Testament far better than I did though my father was an Episcopal priest, and I had grown up in a churchgoing family. Archie said that he had been raised by his grandmother after his parents died and that she was a devout Episcopalian. But Archie sneered and rolled over on Sunday mornings when I got up and went to participate in the early service at the Princeton Chapel, saying, "Much good that will do you, Pal!" Archie had a sarcastic turn of phrase and a biting sardonic wit, which he used unmercifully when he was teasing or deriding someone. Archie would laughingly deny "borrowing" the change on my bureau for his breakfast or for a late snack at night, even when I caught him red-handed. (He often did not repay such borrowings.) Archie frequently came back to our room in Holder Hall in our freshman year quite late after a night of drinking in the Nassau Tavern or after an all night bridge game. I must admit he never seemed the worse for wear the next day. On weekends, Archie often went to deb parties or weddings on the Philadelphia Main Line or Long Island or the North Shore in Boston. At times he tried to regale me with accounts of his escapades in New York with hookers he picked up in Times Square or even up in Harlem. I must also say Archie studied diligently in the courses that interested him and always got good grades. He often said, "It's now up to me to get the family's money back." I loved lacrosse and rugby and played both all four years I was at Princeton. One afternoon, Archie came back into our room and found me studying in my damp sweat clothes. He called me "Stinky." When Archie saw I detested the nickname, he made certain it stuck. After our freshman year, we went our separate ways. I roomed with Jack Caldwell who played varsity football and lacrosse. Archie and I would pass occasionally on campus. Sometimes Archie would return my nod or greeting but not always. I joined Tiger Inn, the athletic eating club with Jack Caldwell. Archie joined one of the fancy social eating clubs. I forget just which one. There was a lovely Saturday night in May of our senior year during Princeton House Parties Weekend which I will never forget. I happened to be standing at the top of the large flight of stairs in front of Blair Arch waiting for Jack Caldwell. We had both played in the lacrosse game against Dartmouth that afternoon. We were going to play pool and drink a few beers at Tiger Inn since neither of us had dates for House Parties. I had just passed Archie who was standing smoking at the bottom of the steps. He had not responded to my hello. Just then, a small pretty girl, her long blonde hair flying, came running right on past me and on down the steps two at a time. Archie flipped his cigarette as she threw herself into his open arms saying, "Archie, Archie, so sorry to be late dearie!" Then they came up the stairs together, laughing uproariously. Archie noticed me. He hesitated and then said, "Daisy, I kind of want to introduce you to Don, or Stinky as I affectionately named him." Just then Jack Caldwell came through Blair Arch. Seeing I was talking to Archie and a pretty girl, he waited under Blair Arch. Archie continued, "Stinky was my assigned roommate in freshman year. But, we went our separate ways, didn't we, Stinky? Stinky does religion, philosophy and lacrosse while I do only girls, girls, girls. Stinky, meet Daisy Buchanan. Daisy is the current lady of my life. I may even marry her if she gets real lucky! Right, Honey? In fact, Daisy has already proposed to me, haven't you, Daisy? I may just accept in spite of her disfiguring birthmark unless I get a larger financial offer from some other wealthy girl in the meanwhile!" In the bright light of the lamps illuminating the steps, I could just see a tiny heart-shape birthmark at the corner of Daisy's right eye. Daisy replied somewhat shyly, "Nice to meet you, Don." Then with a wry smile, she added, "Archie always seems to count his chickens, including me, before they are quite hatched. But I'm not at all sure that I will be able put up with Archie's outrageous treatment of me on a long term basis." (Prophetic words.) Archie replied in his teasing voice, "Okay with me, Honey. Sally is just dying to get me back. In fact, she called last night, or maybe I called her, come to think of it. She has no birthmarks anywhere on her beautiful body or at least none that I have been able to find any so far!" Daisy looked like she was about to cry and exclaimed, "Oh, Archie. Why are you always so darn mean to me?" Archie saw Daisy's obvious anguish, smiled his sardonic smile, and then said, "There, there, Daisy Pooh. Of course, I'm just kidding you. I scarcely ever think of Sally or her lovely body especially when I have my Daisy in my arms. Sally's nothing but the class slut, or maybe I should call her a first class slut. After all she has laid most of our class except, of course, Stinky and a few others who are too sanctimonious to taste the pleasures of Sally's delicious flesh." Archie then took Daisy in his arms, embraced her and tenderly kissed her on the mouth. Daisy smiled and looked radiant again. There was a somewhat awkward pause. I said, "Well, very nice to meet you, Daisy. See you around, Archie." Archie replied, "Not unless I get my religion back, Stinky, like you and Daisy. But that's not highly probable, is it? I lost my faith years ago when I was Sacristan at St. Stephen's School and drank up all the communion wine one Saturday night. I damn near got fired. I have never been able to find my faith again. Too bad, but no loss. Come on, Daisy Pooh, time's awasting! Let's not stand here all night talking religion to dull old Stinky. It's time for Archie to show Daisy just how to party, party!" Daisy said to me, "I hope we'll meet again." On the campus bands were playing dance music. I noticed that Daisy's feet had been doing small dainty dance steps all the time we were talking. Now she broke into a series of twirls around Archie saying, "Come on, Archie my dear. Let's dance together all night. I just love dancing especially with you, Darling." Archie said to me, "Stinky, my boy, I firmly believe that dancing is the upright expression for a vertical desire. I myself prefer getting right to the point, and I'm in a fair way of getting Daisy to agree with my point of view. Right, Honey? In fact, Daisy was a virgin until our first date, but she has come an awful long way under my expert guidance since that night in the Hollywood Motel near Trenton." Turning to Daisy, he said "Remember, Honey, how you first cried and cried but ended up laughing and begging me to make love to you again?" Daisy looked embarrassed and said, "Archie, come on now, you rascal, I don't know why I put up with you except that I love you. Have you no sense of decency at all?" Archie smiled and said, "Nope, Daisy Pooh. None at all and neither do you for that matter anymore or so I found!" Daisy looked more embarrassed and said to me, "Don, I hope we'll meet again some time." I said, "Me, too." Archie and Daisy went gaily off arm in arm through the lovely May night. I came on up the stairs. Jack Caldwell looked after Archie and Daisy. Jack said, "What a rotten son of a bitch that guy Archie is. I pity that pretty little girl, whoever she is. She would do herself a favor by giving Archie the gate here and now!" I replied, "Jack, unless I miss my guess, and on pretty short acquaintance, I am afraid that little Miss Daisy is hopelessly enamoured of our classmate, Archie." Jack said, "Well, God help her is all I can say." I did see Daisy one other time before graduation. I was coming back by train from New York. I got on the little train that runs from Princeton Junction into Princeton itself. Just as the train was leaving Princeton Junction, a pretty blonde girl sat down in the vacant seat alongside of me: it was Daisy. She turned and looked at me, then turned away embarrassed. Finally she smiled and somewhat shyly said, "Don, I am not sure you remember me." She took off her sun glasses. I saw her long eyelashes and her tiny birthmark. "I am Daisy, Archie's girlfriend. We met on the steps of Blair Arch one night during House Parties. I am ashamed of what Archie said about our personal affairs. I am always embarrassed afterwards, but I can't seem to help myself when Archie is around." I replied, "Why of course, I remember you, Daisy, "How very nice to see you again. But tell me, how are things going with you and Archie? Daisy frowned ever so slightly, blushed and said somewhat hesitantly, "Well, let's see. We are sort of engaged. My father does not like Archie at all and says so openly. Mother has had another episode of depression, so she does not really count. In fact, the rest of my family and friends are not too crazy about Archie. But that doesn't make any difference at all to me. I love Archie wildly, and I think he loves me, though he never once has said so in so many words. He likes to tease me about all sorts of things like his past girlfriends, my birthmark, my shyness and my money, though I think he has a lot himself. Sometimes I think Archie is a little lost, though he is just about the smartest person I ever met. I think I may be able to help him and protect him from himself. Actually, we like different things. I like music and flowers, and I love to dance, none of which interests Archie in the slightest. I am a little bit afraid of Archie at times, if you must know, because he seems to take pleasure in hurting me. Then he blames me saying I like it and encourage him. I think it will all work out for the best, or at least I hope so. But maybe I should just try to forget Archie and go on, finish Smith College and get my master's in the decorative arts, particularly pewter and early New England silver of which I have a small collection. You are a friend of his. What do you think?" But by then the little train had pulled into the Princeton Station. I could only say "Good luck, Daisy. I wish you and Archie the best." Over the years I often wished that I had had the courage and fortitude to sit lovesick little Miss Daisy Buchanan right down then and there and try to open her firmly closed eyes, but I didn't. When we became involved in Vietnam, my roommate, Jack Caldwell and I went to a meeting with Marine recruiting officers. We signed up to become Second Lieutenants in the Marine Corps after graduation. Archie somehow heard I had signed up with the Marine Corps. He jeered openly at me when he next saw me, saying, "You are a downright fool, Stinky, to volunteer, especially for the Marine Corps. Cannon fodder, that's all you will be! I also hear your athletic friend, Jack Caldwell, has also signed up. You can safely bet your sweet ass that old Archie is far too smart to get his butt shot off playing soldier boy in some god forsaken rice paddy in French Indo-China. For Christ's sweet sake, Stinky, wise up. If nothing else, just look at what happened to the French Army at Dien Bien Phu. They lost over four thousand of their best professional soldiers - Foreign Legionnaires and paratroopers - fighting hordes of slant-eye soldiers in pajamas swarming up out of the jungle. No indeed, I guess I'll marry Daisy or some other well heeled girl and go to Wharton Business School and have a couple of sons rather than get drafted. Or maybe I will go to Canada where I still have some distant cousins." I said to Archie, "But do you really love Daisy?" Archie said, in a serious tone, "Stinky, don't be silly. Of course I do though I tease her quite a lot." Archie, as I recall, was awarded a couple of prizes at graduation in economics and finance. After being air evacuated out of Vietnam during the Tet Offensive, I ended up in the Portsmouth Naval Hospital for a series of operations to get the rest of some Viet Nam mortar fragments out of my right shoulder. Jack Caldwell was wounded in a rice paddy trying to pull his radio man to safety. While I was recuperating, I happened to read in an old Princeton Alumni Weekly that Archie had indeed married Daisy in a big wedding at her family's home in Bath, Vermont. Our class leaders at Princeton were Archie's ushers. (Somehow, I heard later that a daughter, Karen, was born some six months after the wedding.) Of course, I had not been invited. Archie did go to Wharton Business School in Philadelphia. He then went to work for Lehman Brothers but a couple of years later opened his own firm, Montgomery Securities in New York City. After leaving the Marine Corps, I got married, graduated from the Episcopal Theological Seminary and then became the school chaplain at various boarding schools. Jack Caldwell became a New York corporate lawyer at Moffe, Tabler & Eckstein. Right after I was separated from the Marine Corps I attended a ceremony near Boston at which Jack was presented with the Navy Cross medal for bravery. Longhaired students interrupted the occasion with anti-war chants and placards with pictures of Ho Chi Minh and Jane Fonda. Jack, as he wiped away some spit from his sleeve said to me, "The grateful thanks of the youth of our country in liquid form so to speak. So much for what the present generation thinks of 'Princeton in the Nation's Service'!" Then, about seven or so years after graduation, I happened to run into Archie at the funeral of a classmate of ours in Connecticut. Archie came up to me and said, "Well, I'll be damned! If it isn't old Stinky himself, back from the wars and now a full-fledged Episcopalian man of the cloth!" I replied, "You're right, Archie. How are things going with you?" Archie smiled broadly and replied with gusto as he lit up a Winston, "Great, Stinky! Just great! I married Daisy. You may remember her. She was the little girl with a pink birthmark near her right eye. Of course, Daisy turned out to be sort of a stick-in-the-mud, to put it mildly. I have never been able to teach her how to play a decent game of bridge or tennis for that matter. We have two kids, Karen, seven, but, most important, a son to carry on the Montgomery name and our line of the family. Bully is now two. Daisy had a horrible time conceiving and having Bully. She was in bed for the last two and a half months. She can't have any more kids. But, that doesn't matter. Bully is my namesake and the very apple of my eye and of his mother's as well. Why, he even looks just like me except he has long eyelashes like his mother, Daisy! He sometimes has asthma, but our baby doctor says that will pass. We live in a big old farmhouse in Jericho, Long Island, which I totally renovated and named Trumps - a bridge term. Trumps has everything: a tennis court, a pool and even a wildflower garden and a little greenhouse for Daisy. I am making tons of money as an investment banker in the M&A game - that is, mergers and acquisitions to you. I even have a girlfriend on the side! What more can a man ask?" Archie paused and then said almost to himself, "Still there is something missing, but I don't quite know what it is. But, say, just what are you doing with yourself these days, Stinky?" I replied, "Archie, thanks for asking. I'm married, and have two little boys. I am the school chaplain at a small boarding school in upper New York State. You probably have never even heard of it." Archie said, "What is it called?" I replied, "Rockford Academy." Archie said, "Nope. Never heard of it." Archie abruptly got up and walked off, saying, "See you around, Stinky. Our paths did not cross again for several years. I went to a few of our major class reunions at Princeton a couple of times, mostly to catch up with Jack Caldwell and my other lacrosse and rugby friends, but Archie was never at the reunions to which I went. I eventually was appointed Headmaster of St. John's School, a good boarding school in Tripp, Connecticut. One Saturday, about fifteen years ago, I was officiating at the wedding of a graduate of S


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