When I arrived back in the Tidewater Virginia area everything was set up for me. It was a surprise and a welcome one. Sherry or John Gilman worked it all out, but it was Sherry who picked me up at the bus station and drove me to my new home. Being around Sherry was a little awkward since she broke up with me a month after I went to jail. In the same letter that she broke this news to me she told me she was engaged to a Presbyterian preacher who had a church down the road from the Lutheran church. I wasn't upset that she broke up with me, that happens to most guys in jail, and I never believed Sherry and I were permanent. But her quick engagement to the preacher bothered me a great deal. I would soon meet Vick, who was a great guy so I wasn't upset for long, but that first meeting with Sherry was uncomfortable.

Five single guys from CBN had rented a six bedroom home in a nice neighborhood and had an available room. It was a nice house, larger and more expensive home than my parent's home which was a few miles away. The house was well furnished, as was my bedroom. My share of the rent and utilities was more than I had paid for my own dilapidated rented house, but within my budget. I met the few of my new roommates that were home when I arrived and they made me feel welcome, though I could tell they were unsure of the ex-con they had allowed into their world. Overall the guys were all private and busy with work and life so we didn't interact a great deal, but when we did it was always friendly. They were typical of single CBN guys at the time. They believed in CBN's ministry so they gave it everything they had. Everything else they devoted to dating.

I was slated to start work at CBN the next day and since I didn't have a car a ride to work with one of my roommates had been prearranged. At CBN I started back towards engineering when Mary, CBN's legendary receptionist stopped me and informed me I worked upstairs now. I asked her where, but Mary simply smiled and pointed her finger up the stairs, a clear order to get moving. Of course she knew where I would be working. Mary knew everything that went on at CBN.

"Upstairs" was a small area with two private executive offices, one was John Gilman's and the other John's second in command, Mike Little. Upstairs also had a handful of cramped offices shared by junior executive staff. It was also home to the broadcast facilities for CBN's FM Christian radio station, and CBN's national counseling center. I had been "Upstairs" many times to visit the radio facility and the counseling center. Since I couldn't possibly be working in the executive offices I figured it would be either the radio station or the counseling center. Either would be great with me. I loved the radio group and had often spent time up there, and the counseling center was my favorite part of CBN's ministry. Much of my free time had been spent in their 24 hour counseling center answering phone calls from all over the country. It used a volunteer staff with many CBN employee's working the phones in their off time. But to my knowledge they had only one employee, Dick Arno, a pastor who was the center's director.

At the top of the steps I turned towards the radio station and counseling center only to be stopped by Nancy, an attractive petite blond I didn't know. She escorted me to a closet sized office with two small desk and two chairs. "That's your desk", she said, then turned to leave. I stopped her and asked what I would be doing. She smiled and said that Mike Little would talk to me shortly. Mike Little I knew. John Gilman, who I knew better, was the head of CBN's programming department, programming meaning television shows, and Mike Little was his second. I had nothing against Mike Little, but I didn't care for him. Mike was a rather bland account type guy surrounded by upbeat charismatic types, so his blandness stood out. The other person I knew with a desk on the second floor office area was Sherry. Her desk was in an open bullpen outside my closet/office. In this new job I would have to interact with her.

I sat at my desk which had a phone and nothing else. The other desk was vacant at the moment but it was clearly the desk of a busy guy. It belonged to an older guy whose name I don't recall now, but he was the head of CBN's Christian radio network. He traveled a lot and did big things in the early days of Christian radio. A good guy.

It didn't take Mike Little long to show up. He said hello and welcome to programming then explained my job. It was a newly created position so I would be the first to do it so would have to figure things out as I went. Until now Ben Kinchlow had performed these duties but he was too busy now thus the new position. I'd have to see Ben later in the day to get detailed instructions, but basically I was to be the guest contact when they were in town for The 700 Club. I would pick them up at the airport, take them to their hotel, then pick them up at the hotel in the morning and deliver them to the show (The 700 Club) then take them back to the airport when they left.
He asked if I could find the Norfolk airport. Sure, but I didn't have a car. He grinned and handed me a set of car keys and a gas company credit card. "It's the brown one by the front door. It's yours now. Take it home, use it for personal use. Keep it clean and don't break it." He then handed me a piece of paper and said I had a guest to pick up. The name on the paper said, "Chico Holiday" with the name of the airline, flight number and arrival time. I didn't need to ask who Chico Holiday was or what he looked like because he was a top 10 Christian singer and one of my favorites. The flight arrived in less than an hour so I left immediately.

The car was a five year old Chrysler or Plymouth, dark brown with "WYAH TV", and number "27" (WYAH's channel number) in large letters and "Christian Broadcasting Network" below it, on both front doors and the trunk. I loved it. It was CBN's only company car. They had a pickup truck that was used by Ken Stafford, the head carpenter who you'll hear more about later and a company van, that I had access to when needed. The 700 Club was produced Monday thru Friday, so five ninety minute shows a week. Each show had two guest and one music guest, so three people a day for me to pick up and return to the airport every day. It was rare for two of them to have flights at the same time. So six trips a day to the airport, Three to take back the days guest and three for the incoming ones, plus all the trips to and from their hotel. I also had the job of delivering the format for the next day's show to Pat Robertson's home in Suffolk nightly. The programming department finished the format between six and seven each evening, so I would generally go to the station from the airport, drive forty minutes to Pat's rural home, then back to the airport to pick up an incoming guest. Giving me the car to take home and use wasn't a perk, it was a necessity. It was not a job for a family man. I have no idea how Ben had managed it for so many years.

CBN's guest were some of the most important and influential Christians in the world. Some had friends at CBN who picked them up, some were picked up by Pat or Ben, and once I had the U.S. Secret Service intercept me to explain that "We've got this one" when I attempted to pick up an African head of state. But most were my guest to and from the airport, and to and from CBN the next day. Part of my job was to have dinner and lunch with them when appropriate so I shared a meal or two with most of the guest who traveled alone, which was most of them. I met some amazing people doing this. Some I got to know well, some I just enjoyed being in their presences. The vast majority of these people were sincere and charismatic, some were spiritual beyond understanding.

One of the outstanding people I met was Harald Bredesen. Harald was a Canadian Lutheran pastor who wore a clerical collar. He was in his 60's, short, bald, and about as unassuming in appearance as a man could be. When I picked him up he had two young men and a young woman as entourage. They told me they had to travel with Harald to keep him on schedule and to keep him out of trouble. I thought they were joking. They weren't. Before we left the airport I knew Harald was special. Actually I thought he was "Special" in the sense that he wasn't too bright. Mine was a common misunderstanding of the man's actions. Walking to the car Harald looked around like he'd never seen an airport before, then without warning he turn towards a stranger and engaged him in conversation. His handlers stood off at a discrete distance but kept a close eye on their charge. I too stood by, unsure what I should be worried about. In a matter of minutes Harald and the man were on their knees in the middle of the concourse praying. Harald didn't pray loud, he never did, but he prayed with power. The unknown traveler cried openly while Harald prayed. Harald hugged the man, stood up and walked away as if nothing unusual had happened. He didn't explain and his handlers didn't seem annoyed. This was normal behavior for Harald Bredesen.

The next morning when I arrived to pick them up the three handlers were frantic. Harald was not in his room and was no where to be found. I was a bit put out by this too since Harald was scheduled to be the first guest on the 700 Club's live broadcast in less than an hour. I joined the hunt and twenty minutes later found the man. I knew the hotel well enough to use the service elevator, which was not off the hotel's main corridor. When the doors opened in response to my call I saw Harald Bredesen , on his knees praying beside one of the maids. Harald saw me when the door opened and signaled for me to join them, so I did. We barely made it to the studio in time for him to walk onto the set. It was a typical Harald Bredesen day. Over the next few months I would encounter Harald several more times, and he was always the same. Seemingly absent minded, but highly attuned to spiritual matters. He always put the individual first. It didn't matter to him if it was Pat Robertson or the hotel maid, the person in need was always his priority. He stopped me for prayer more than once.

Until my return I'd had a girlfriend since the first day I attended CBN's Christmas party, so I had not realized the disparity between single men and single women. I might never have noticed it had my roommates not pointed it out to me my first Saturday night there over pizza. I don't recall the single female to single male ration, but it was something like twenty to one. This was exacerbated by the fact that CBN was more community than business and a closed community at that. Most staffers were like me, new to the area so they didn't know anyone when they started working at CBN. And since CBN did such a great job of filling our spiritual needs most single staffers didn't attend church. Married staffers did because of their spouse's needs, but for us single folks other CBN folks were pretty much all we knew in the area. This was bad for the single women, but rather entertaining for us bachelors. Years later Tom Cruise, speaking through his character Maverick would sum it up well. It was a target rich environment.

My roommates pointed all of this out to me as they listed several female staffers that they knew were interested in me. They called it the bad boy syndrome. Some girls liked bad boys and being fresh out of prison I was CBN's only certified bad boy. I told my roommates that I wasn't interest in dating right now, which they laughed at. But it was true. I never was overly interested in girls, and women were just a grown up version. I had liked Sherry and had enjoyed our time together, but now that it was over I was glad it was. I wanted to serve God and build a career at CBN. I was just getting this new life started and didn't want to be distracted. Having been made aware of the situation I did pay attention to the ratio and the attention I was receiving. All of the women were nice, good people, and most were attractive. But I wasn't attracted to any of them so it was easy for me to not get involved. So no dates, no close calls. I was unattached and planned to stay that way. Until I met Mary from Ohio.