...my priest. Father Paul was a great man. He knew I didn't fit in and told me that there was a great big world out there. I had been an acolyte for 2 years, but would always ask really tough questions about the Bible. After I left the (Episcopal) Church, I still stopped in to talk to him. He wasn't just influential in my religious views, he helped me get through some tough times.
He was a former life insurance salesman, chain smoker and drank like a fish. He had a thick souther drawl, but I don't recall where he came from originally. Drove a 67 black Impala with a bad muffler and a blue cloud of smoke that followed him everywhere. 
He died of throat cancer when I was in high school. I cried for days.
One of my favorite memories: I asked him why God would punish someone that believed in 'another' God if they were still good people. He laughed and said, "Oh, they're still the same God. In fact, he enjoys all the different ways people worship. I think he likes the ones that sing and dance the most."
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There are still a lot of good priests out there of all stripes and sects. 
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