The Youth Group, The Police and Me
I sometimes have these moments which I will call “realized memories” which, before they popped into my head, had been forgotten up to that moment. I have no explanation why these memories pop in on me. Sometimes, a song, seeing a certain old car, a place or a scene in a movie brings the memory to the forefront of my mind. Following is one such memory. It is regarding an old friend, Mark Mears and an event that occurred many years ago around 1985 when I was 28 years old. The recollection resurfaced last week when I drove by the Greyhound Bus station in our town. Mark and his wife Tena lived in the apartment building managed by Linda and I in San Jose. Mark was a youth pastor at a local church. One day, he stopped by to ask if I would do him a favor. What he asked me to do was right down my alley and I quickly agreed. He was putting together a scavenger hunt of sorts for his youth group which required them to follow clues, walk around downtown San Jose in small groups, and p