Summary
1 P.M? The Rev. R.L. Wright spends his days as a fisher of men.
On Sundays, he says, he fishes for them from his pulpit at New Life Fellowship Church, 6151 Dayton Liberty Road. On the other days, he does his fishing from the window of a giant white ice-cream truck. "What you gettin', baby?" he calls out to a little girl who walks past the window of the O' Danny Boy Ice Cream truck. She buys a red, white and blue frozen treat called a Bomb Pop. "I'll see ya tomorrow, baby," he shouts. Wright finds many similarities between saving souls and selling ice cream. "This is just like church work," he shouts over the top of the ice-cream jingle that blasts from the loudspeakers. "You reach out to people. Sometimes you'll be rejected, but sometimes you'll be accepted." Wright looks something like a cross between the Rev. Al Sharpton and the rapper Flava Flav. A silver cross dangles from his neck. He wears jewels in his gold teeth, a metal belt buckle engraved with his first name "Roger" and a black tie with white letters that spell "I Love Jesus." He dyes his hair orange and purple, and slicks it into a ducktail, which he tucks under a white straw hat. Wright, 71, has driven various ice- cream trucks for 15 years. Subtracting Sundays, holidays, winters and idling time, that means he's probably heard the truck's signature 10.5-second jingle more than 10 million times. But he says he's not sick of it yet. "It goes with the job," he says.See the full content of this document
Extract
Ice-Cream Vendor/Pastor Crosses His Vocations
Like any good fisherman, Wright knows the ...
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