I know I've written about this before, but can't find it. And, the family members that attended Emily's wedding said that I haven't, so, I'm going to write about this...again!
The Sunday "B" was a mission in Philadelphia. And, just as you left (at that time) the only bridge into Philadelphia Center City, which crossed the Delaware River, from New Jersey into Philly, you were confronted with The Sunday Breakfast Association's building at 6th and Arch -- nicknamed "The Sunday "B"." I mean it was right there. The road split around the building.
Daddy loved that mission. It was a mission to the drunks and down-and-outs from Philadelphia and it was started during the depression when its ministry was mainly to the poor (monetarily) men and gave hand-outs to help these men's physical and spiritual needs.
My father spoke several times a month at the various "spiritual" handouts the Sunday "B" presented, and in return they would send one of their in-house helpers to our church to speak maybe four times a year.
The Sunday "B" had a radio broadcast on Sunday morning at 9:00 a.m. on WFIL -- every week -- for years and years and years. And whether my father was the speaker or someone else was, we listened to that broadcast "religiously." (pun intended)
When I was a child, my father would head out of the house around 7:30 a.m., hop on a bus, and get off the bus at 6th and Arch, go into the Sunday "B" building, and preach his message to these poor men. These sermons were broadcast, and on those Sunday mornings that daddy was preaching I would listen, and I would watch the radio hoping to see my father as he talked to these men.
Of course, I never saw him on the radio, but I heard him. And by the time he got home -- just in time for Sunday morning service -- I knew that even though I couldn't see him when he spoke on the radio, all was okay, because I could once again see my father. Did I listen to him in church? Not very often, sad to say. But I did listen to him on the radio once a month as he was featured speaker at The Sunday "B". I mean that meant bragging rights at school the next morning. TV was just becoming something that households had, but none of my friends homes included the picture box at that time.
I hope that clarifies to all your young'uns about my dad's association with that mission, and recalls to your mind what I'm sure I have written about before -- at least I think I have. I can't find it either!