“There must be a story behind that cross…”
Because I travel a fair amount, I pay for a benefit in the airport: the chance to sit quietly in the American Airlines club. With work to do and long layovers—and the price of food in the airport, to me it is worth the cost. In May I was on my way home from Chicago O’Hare to AVP—our Wilkes Barre/Scranton Airport, with a three hour wait for my plane.
I noticed two fellows sitting in a corner—one with headphones and sunglasses, the other wearing a substantial pectoral cross—probably 3 or 4 inches tall. Not dissimilar to what we wear as Orthodox Priests. I was in my cassock (my long black robe) and wearing my own pectoral cross. As I recall it, the three of us “noticed” one another, and gave a gentlemanly nod and bow towards one another, silently saying hello. I wanted to go say something and didn’t.
About an hour later, having left the club and returned, there they were, still, and I dug deep, asking myself, “What would Fr Marcus Burch (my very bold and adventuresome friend) do?” It was a no brainer. He’d go say hello, probably like this— “Hey fellas—holding his pectoral cross in his hand and pointing to the other man’s cross—there must be a story behind that cross.” So that is what I did; and that is what I said.
“I got it when we were on tour in Asia,” he said.
“You are in the music industry?” I replied.
“You ever heard of the SugarHill Gang?” He asked.
“YOU ARE THE SUGARHILL GANG?” I couldn’t believe it. “You want the 6 minute or the 15 minute version? I can sing them both, unprompted, from beginning to end.”
Somehow, in the 4th grade, I convinced my Marine Corps officer father to buy me the Rapper’s Delight Single—6 mins on one side, and 15 on the other. It was the only record I owned, and I listened to it on my Snoopy record player over and over and over. It was literally the first music I ever owned.
This made for some conversation in the middle of the Admiral’s Club. Frankly, I wonder if HenDogg and T-Dynasty were as dumbfounded as I was: here I, an Orthodox Priest, could sing the whole of Rapper’s Delight, in front of the men themselves, and I was asking T-Dynasty, the DJ of the SugarHill Gang, about his pectoral cross.
We seemed to become instant friends, exchanging contact info so I could follow up about my interview idea. And there in the O’Hare airport, the Producer of the SugarHill Gang told me about his greatest tour recollection—traveling to the Holy Land and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and T-Dynasty shared with me about how he always sings with his cross on, and how they “never touch the stage without praying.” And thus our friendship began, and thus I offer you their interview.
