Gloom, Despair and Agony on Us



Jim Carr's Rolling Motel

A favorite warm weather activity of mine is riding my bike on the Katy Trail, Missouri's 237.7 mile-long, 50-foot wide State Park.  It was on just such an outing this week that I encountered Jim Carr, a self-proclaimed "prophet of God".  Six miles into my ride the trail was partially blocked by 2 brightly-clad female bikers, a heavily-laden multi-wheeled conveyance filled with assorted possessions, and a guy sitting on his rear end in the dusty trail.  I slowed slightly but didn't stop.  The women smiled and waved and the guy didn't seem in distress so I kept going. 

As I rode further I had second thoughts.  Was the guy having a heart attack?  Was he was dehydrated?  Should I have stopped to see if I could help?  I kept going, more concerned about getting my heart rate up than lending a hand.  As it turned out I would have gotten my heart rate up either way.


On my return trip, barely 100 yards from where I first passed the man earlier, the man sat on a bench in front of the Claysville Store.   Near him were two baby strollers lashed together loaded with a wide array of items.  Foremost was a boom box strapped to the front of the lead stroller.  As I slowed to a stop I asked the man "Where you from?"  "Washington, D.C." he replied.  "Wow, where you headed?"  I asked.  "Columbia, and then to a very important meeting in Denver" he informed me.  "You sure don't believe in traveling light, do you?"  I noted, as I took a picture of his rig.  "Mind if I take a picture of you?"  "YES, I MIND!"  he answered.  "I think pictures are evil!"  In my experience, only the Amish and people with warrants out for their arrest think pictures are evil, and this guy was definitely not Amish.

As we talked further, additional facts(?) came to light.  His name was Jim Carr.  He is a minister, he said.  Actually, he clarified, a "prophet of God".  My internal B.S. meter suddenly red-lined. 

"I spent the last 4 weeks in Jefferson City" he said.  "Nice city, but it's doomed!" 

Doomed? I thought to myself.  Well, sure, there's that civic center idea that never quite comes to fruition, but the whole town doomed?

He explained:  "Any city that sits on seven hills is doomed.  Don't you ever read the Bible?  Lynchburg, Va. is another city that sits on seven hills.  Doomed!" he continued.  "And southern Missouri?  It's doomed too!" 

How do you know this?  I asked.  "God told me.  I got saved in 1967.  In 1983, God spoke to me in a vision.  Told me my future.  Said I would one day go to Rome where I would be killed.   Don't you know the Catholic religion is the biggest lie there is?"

I was no longer amused.  Jim sensed this.

"What's the matter?" he asked.  "Don't you believe God still has prophets?"  I honestly hadn't given it much thought.  "I don't believe you're one."  I said,  getting back on my bike.  "Why not?" he asked.  "Because you're full of . . . malarkey!"  I answered as I began to pedal away.

"I'll pray for you!" he said while I was still in earshot.

He might want to pray for those strollers he's pushing, instead.  If they make it to Denver it will be a modern day miracle.