I was born and brought up in New England. Western Massachusetts, to be exact. We were a mixed neighborhood. We had Polish people, French people, Irish people, Italian people and we even had a Spanish family that we didn't know was Spanish.
Everyone in the neighborhood was Catholic. Well, not really everyone. We happened to live next door to the only true, blue Anglo-Saxons. They had no religion at all. I knew this because my father told me.
Upstairs from Blake was McClane. I never knew what they were as far as heritage goes, but I did know that they were Presbyterian. They were rather nice folks.
One Sunday on the way back from the 5:00 AM Mass (No, that's not a clerical error) with my father, I asked, "Will Mr. Blake and Mr. McClane go to heaven?"
My father, sure of himself as always, shot back, "Of course."