Church of the Frescoes: Glendale Springs

I'm in process of, with a goal toward, taking one daytrip a week (if doable; tap on wood) to engage on a day journey unrelated to my healthcare. For now, I'm taking these trips solo; it's just easier. But my destination may be to visit a friend. I pack my snacks and lunch and water, and any herbs and supplements that I take in the afternoon. Usually, I decide the morning of a daytrip where I'll go, which most often means a drive to the north or west or northwest. 

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Shortly after moving to Winston in 2000, Hubby and I learned about a different route to Grayson Highlands taking NC Hwy. 16 North which passes through the small community of Glendale Springs. At the time, I'd never heard of the frescoes. But I'm curious by nature, and the markers, as we passed through Glendale Springs, caught my eye. So, we checked it out. I've been visiting ever since and have introduced this place to others as well. 

This small Episcopal Church was built in 1901. Beginning in 1946 it stood empty and until the mid -to-latter 1970s when the fresco, a life-size depiction of Jesus' so-called last supper, was imparted to these walls, which later became part of the North Carolina Fresco Trail. (For a bit more history click here: The Ben Long Frescoes of North Carolina.)

Yesterday I took a daytrip to Glendale Springs, NC, to visit Holy Trinity Episcopal Church. I'd thought that maybe I could stop by Wayne Henderson's luthier shop or even visit Grayson Highlands. 

I arrived at the church around 3:00. I tried one door. It was either locked or too hard for my crippled hands and arms to open. My heart dropped a little, but I tried another door. Walla! It opened. I entered and took in the view of the Last Supper. I especially like the dog down in the left-hand corner of the fresco. It helps the life-size art become even more real, more lifelike. I chose to not play the narrated recording that the church provides at the push of a button. 

I signed the guest register and the prayer request book. I sat down in a pew, viewed the Last Supper, and opened a hymnal. The pages landed on a song I used to sing as a youth in the Methodist Church about the blessed trinity. I sang a few lines...

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I'm sure there is a bathroom in here somewhere. I think it's downstairs. If not, I'll walk across the street to the little row of small shops.

I made my way outside and around the building to the downstairs entrance. It was open. Yay! The downstairs contains another couple frescoes, a life-size marbled mosaic of Jesus the Christ, a life-size carving of Jesus during his temptations on the mount, a columbarium and a grotto for human ashes, information about the history of the frescoes, some other items, and a bathroom. (Yay!)  While downstairs, I heard someone upstairs; they had pressed the button for the recording. 

After taking in the art, viewing the grotto, breathing in the beauty, feeling into the aliveness and history of this old building, I exited the downstairs, made my way up the steps and around the church and back to Sir Edward the Explorer. 

Do I go ahead and eat here? Do I make my way to Wayne Henderson's? 

I searched my brain for places I could pull over, eat my supper, and take in the mountain air. 

The time was around 4:10.

It's getting late. My energy is low. I'll eat here.

I put the strap of my small blue cooler over my shoulder and made my way to the small stone-encased fountain with its small pool next to the cemetery in the backyard of the church. Quite a few Sheets headstones in that cemetery. 

I had a pleasant supper with visits from a couple songbirds and butterflies.

I visited the downstairs of the church one more time before heading back to Edward. I wanted to leave a donation. I had three dollars on me. I couldn't find a donation jar downstairs. I knew there was one upstairs, but my energy was too low to make the upstairs trip. So, I put the money in a desk drawer downstairs and let my self out.

As I rounded the church back to where Edward was parked, a couple was walking up the old sidewalk to go inside the church.

"Are y'all from around here?" I asked. I like to let folks know about the downstairs; it's easily missed. 

Yes, they had visited here multiple times but had forgotten about the downstairs. I learned that the couple, now retired, lived at the NC coast. But they used to live in Galax, VA, another area I know pretty well. The husband was a retired Blue Ridge Parkway ranger. His territory used to cover the area of Rocky Knob, which is where The Saddle is. We had a fun conversation. It was one of the highlights of my day....

The Last Supper

Dog snoozing

Jesus hugs his mother, Mary, as he begins his ministry.
Mary's mother, Anna, looks on.

NC Fresco Trail