I was 18 years old in the Summer of 1966 and had been singing in the church choir for ten years. Three nights a week and one or two Sunday services. St Paul’s Episcopal choir of men and boys. The bar had traditionally been set by the great English church choirs of the day…Kings College, St. Johns… The best in the world. We were too. So after I graduated High School and before starting my freshman year at the University of Georgia, we loaded on to a plane out of Idlewild and jumped the pond to go sing with them. That particular summer was an amazing time to be in England, and to be eighteen. It was my last waltz.
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