“The downpour was torrential. Having been raised on Hollywood humor, I kept thinking of Jesus balancing a bucket of water over heaven’s doorway and instructing the last angel to slam the door shut on his way out.Like fools we stood there, staring up at the clouds, with the rain pelting us in the face until we were drenched. When it was obvious there would be no encore, we trudged down the hill.The exodus off the Mount of Olives was a somber trek. There were some, like Choni, who remained upbeat ...despite the bizarre ending to what had been a dramatic buildup. Most, however, were somber. Gone was the thrill of expectation that had marked our ascent. For people who had expected to be taken up into the clouds where they would reunite with their loved ones as they had been taught in church, trudging down a slippery, muddy slope was disappointing.The car was where we’d left it. A flow of vehicles meandered around it like a stream around a rock. With Choni driving, we waded into the flow of traffic and continued northward to Mt.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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