An era is ending

this week in Peachtree City.

For over 20

years, I have been dining at least once a week at Shadows restaurant.

Two decades ago, a minister asked me to join him and several other members

of the clergy for breakfast. I took him up on the invitation and became

a regular at the Wednesday morning clergy breakfast. Not long after that

first breakfast, the meeting was moved from an establishment in Tyrone

to Shadows. We've been meeting each and every Wednesday morning, with

rare exception, since that time. This week, I read the notice that Shadows

restaurant was closing.

During the

past 20 years, much of my ministry has been conducted and fast friendships

have been forged around the tables at Shadows. It's very difficult to

get men to come into an office for counseling. Getting them to join another

man for lunch, however, is another matter. Many are the meals that were

shared along with moments of vulnerability and trust.

Not all of

those moments had the desired results. I still remember the sick feeling

in my gut when I walked away from a lunch at Shadows having failed to

convince a young husband and father that he should not leave his wife

and small daughter for another woman. But those times were rare. Generally,

good advice was given and received and more than a few marriages and lives

found new life and new hope over a breakfast or a lunch.

I met women

for lunch and breakfast around the tables at Shadows, as well. We talked

about their families, their futures, and spiritual matters. Sometimes,

tears were shed and quickly wiped away before anyone noticed although,

once in a while, a brokenhearted lady would ignore the other patrons and

allow the hot tears to splash on her cheeks. The waitresses were always

kind enough to pretend not to notice.

But, more often

than not, the meetings at Shadows were simply meetings between friends.

Somehow, friendships seem more precious and meaningful when coupled with

the "breaking of bread" or with a cup of coffee. And, on occasion,

I met with political and civic leaders there. I made alliances and had

arguments with church leaders around those tables. Sometimes, I just went

moments of public solitude at one of the outside tables.

For me, a special

time at Shadows was the Wednesday ministers' breakfast. The management

always let us have free drinks, since we were there every week, and Wendy

(or is it spelled "Windy?") was almost always our server. She

knew us all by name and usually knew what we were each going to order.

There were even times that the pastors joined together and gave her a

Christmas gift.

As hundreds

of breakfasts were shared, I learned to appreciate, respect, and hold

in high esteem the other clergy of the community. On more than one occasion,

they prayed with me, encouraged me, and gave me their counsel. I became

a police chaplain after a meeting at Shadows. The members of the ministers'

breakfast group came and went, as clergy transferred out or retired, but

each left an impression and a mark. And, I still believe that, for the

price, Shadows consistently offered the best breakfast in town.

The current

owner of Shadows is opening a new establishment somewhere on Highway 74.

I was told that Shadows has had money problems and that the new place

has staffing problems. With the closing of Shadows and the absorption

of the staff into the new place, both problems will be solved.I wish them

well. Economics drives the nation and, sometimes, businesses close.

Still, I am

saddened. I figure I've eaten about 1,000 meals, mostly breakfasts, over

the two decades I've been wandering into Shadows to meet friends and discuss

both the profound and trivial matters of life. Before I gave up soft drinks

a little over a year ago, I consumed at least a pitcher of Diet Coke every

week, most of which was served up by the always pleasant Wendy.

I ran into

a lady at the hospital a few days ago who is a part of the weekly "Grits

and Grace" ladies groups that meets (or met) each week at Shadows.

"What are we going to do?" she asked. I don't know. I assume

that we will all find another restaurant to take the place of Shadows.

But it won't

be the same. No, it won't be the same at all. An old friend has up and

left us and we didn't have enough time to even say good-bye.

[David Epps

is rector of Christ the King Charismatic Episcopal Church, which meets

at 8 a.m. and 10 a.m. Sundays on Ga. Highway 34 between Peachtree City

and Newnan. He may be contacted at [email protected] or at www.CTKCEC.org.]