Lost Bible returned to ‘Granny K.’

Carol Kvitkauskas loved the Bible that Liberty Baptist Church, Creola, presented to her on Mother’s Day in 1998, even though she only recently got to read from it.  
   
This special Bible, an edition of The Woman’s Bible, was engraved with “Granny K.” on the front, an affectionate nickname bestowed on Kvitkauskas. Inside, it bore a tender handwritten note of thanks from the church family presenting it to her.
   
Kvitkauskas carried her gift, unopened, from the church to her car that day in 1998. Talking with friends outside, she laid the boxed Bible on the front bumper of her car and didn’t miss it until she and her family arrived at home.
   
“We looked and looked for weeks up and down the roads,” Kvitkauskas said. “I said, ‘Well, if somebody needs it worse than me, they’ve got a good Bible.’ It broke my heart, but I couldn’t do anything about it,” she said.
   
She teetered between imagining someone using the Bible and it decaying alongside a road. 
Liberty Baptist, the small church that met in a Creola storefront, would later close. Kvitkauskas and others began attending church elsewhere and the whereabouts of her Bible, held ever so briefly, remained a mystery.
   
Meanwhile, on that same Mother’s Day Sunday, Glenn Duval, minister of music at First Baptist Church, Creola, was about to use his eagle eye to become a hero as he drove his pickup truck home.
   
“I was leaving after church on Sunday to go home along Highway 43,” Duval said. “I looked onto I-65 [near the Satasuma exit] and saw something blowing in the wind. I couldn’t tell at that point what it was, but I pulled off the road and walked to it.”
   
Kvitkauskas’ Bible lay in danger of being crushed by cars and trucks zipping past on the busy interstate.
   
“It looked like a brand new Bible, and it looked like it was in memory of someone,” Duval said. “It had a name but no phone number or address.
   
“There were cars coming at a distance, so I was thankful that no one hit it before I got there, because the way it was lying, that would have torn it up,” he said.
   
Duval drove the Bible to First, Creola, pastor Frank Kirksey that afternoon. The information in the Bible, though sketchy, would lead Kirksey on a determined search for the unknown lady and a church named Liberty Baptist. Though the search lasted for the next two years, Kirksey didn’t give up, using even Internet resources to try to find the mysterious Granny K.
   
Trying to find the Liberty Baptist mentioned in the Bible was equally frustrating since the church had closed. Even the name had complications. Among Southern Baptist churches in Alabama, there are 25 named Liberty and another 10 with Liberty as part of their name. Since the Bible had been found on a major interstate, Kirksey feared that it might even have been lost by someone from out of state.
   
After more than two years, the search had lulled. Then about three months ago, there was a remarkable twist of fate.
   
Kirksey and another First, Creola, member decided to visit Eugene Fulton, a member of the church who had been sick.
  
“Bill Lawshe and I were visiting with Mr. Fulton and he mentioned someone called Carol J. or Carol K. who comes to the senior center where he also goes,” Kirksey said. 
   
Talking about the outgoing, animated lady, Fulton mentioned that several people there call her Granny K., since most people can’t pronounce her Lithuanian last name. “I told them some of ‘em call her Granny, but I call her Carol K., cause I don’t like the name Granny — sounds old,” Fulton said.
   
Kirksey jumped up and said, “Granny K.” and proceeded to explain about the Bible.   
   
Fulton phoned Kvitkauskas’s daughter to confirm that this was in fact her mother’s Bible. Though family and friends knew of the find, they kept it secret while Kvitkauskas was in Orlando on a three-month visit with children and grandchildren.  
   
Upon her return, her friends and family hosted a lunch meeting at the senior center. After giving a brief devotion stressing the importance of God’s Word, Kirksey presented a “new” Bible to Kvitkauskas.
   
At first, she smiled politely. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was her Bible lost a few years ago.
    
“Oh, I can’t believe it!” Kvitkauskas said, overjoyed. “You don’t know how hard we looked for that. We were walking up and down in the grass alongside the road, looking so hard for it — it’s amazing to think it was on the interstate and not even damaged.”
   
One can’t help but agree with her. Her story is amazing, especially considering the dedication that caring members of Liberty Baptist were led to write to Kvitkauskas years before: “It is our prayer that by the power of the Holy Spirit, God’s Word will be manifested in your life in an even greater way and that this Book of His Word will play a large part.”