I met my first Seventh Day Adventists when I was 17, at a service station in a town called Desert Center, between Phoenix and Los Angeles. My dad was hauling the trailer with a not-quite sufficient station-wagon, and had to make the pit stop for new tires right then and there. So, this older woman with crow-black hair and an Arkansas accent started telling me about how wonderful Heaven would be, where the streets and everything are paved with gems, and she would have skin soft as a baby's! I did... Sign in to see full entry.