On the second Sunday in March, Tyler Jerome Fields was baptized. Mom and Dad flew in Saturday morning. Our small invitee list also included Max; Marsha Hines, a part-timer in Jerry’s law office while in her final year at Georgetown Law; and Mary Granger, my news assistant.
Jerry and I had found a church reminiscent of the one my parents attended. It had a very traditional look. Tyler, nearly four months old, certainly didn’t understand a baptism, but he loved the attention.
Jerry’s mother was too ill to attend, and he had decided not to invite his sons. Even though he’d had a nice time taking Tyler to see them and their mother, he and the boys agreed it was probably better that they not go. Beth would have to drive, and well . . .
The church’s outstanding choir and the very personal touch the minister gave to the baptism—showing off Tyler to the congregation—gave me chills of joy. Mom, Dad, Max, Jerry, and I stood around the baptismal font and watched as Tyler put on his little show, moving his arms and legs and grinning. It was a very special moment.
The fact of my celebrity had not escaped the church leaders. “That’s the reason the church was filled to overflowing,” one of them told me. I heard one person say, “Easter came early.” We all went to their coffee hour and met many church members. One couple was from Wisconsin. A man sought out Max, whom he had known for some twenty years, and they fell into a long conversation.
My parents held close to me. Tyler was asleep in the nursery. I fretted to Jerry that we were getting close to his feeding time. One of the parishioners overheard me and offered to find a private room, if I would like. I went off to get Tyler. Overall, it was a warm and lovely experience. Mom remarked how it was very much like home—people were so friendly.
After lunch in a nearby restaurant, we all went back to the house, except Mary. She had things to do at home. Our little group was very compatible. Jerry, Max, and Dad spent a good part of the afternoon together, probably telling stories about me. Marsha said it was a touch of home for her, being with our family.
Late in the afternoon, after Max drove Marsha back into Washington, we all did our own thing for a while. When Tyler was awake, he was mostly in a grandparent’s arms. Jerry and I felt very fortunate. So many good things had happened recently. Memories of bad times had receded.
I’d been back to work three weeks. Lassiter had me working on a couple of background pieces that involved local government issues, which comfortably eased me back in, since the majority of my time at the Star had been spent at City Hall.
I was entering into a completely new experience at the paper, what with my nomination for the Pulitzer and a long layoff. I knew, human nature being what it was, my attitude would be scrutinized and magnified by my peers, putting me in a very strange atmosphere.
Well, I would just have to learn how to breathe it in.