Les Mould used to preach across the road from the moviehouse as patrons were exiting. The wages of sin is/are death. Bible-punching stuff. Fishermen will vouch to his lack of short-term memory as to where the fish were biting and where he had just caught a nice grunter.
That is "uncle" Les Mould and beleive me he knew all the news of everyone in town as well.










