For the past two or three years Matt has been maintaining a weekly series of "Sunday school" lessons. Every Saturday he posts a new one on YouTube. I for one have been benefiting from Matt's devotionals and I think that others might will also. Click on over to Matt's YouTube channel and prepare to be edified, enlightened, and maybe even a little entertained.
Thank you for all that you do my brother!
Ghostbusters: Afterlife is the movie we didn't know we needed right now, is better than we deserve, and blew away expectations. It is a MAGNIFICENT tribute to the original film while standing on its own and setting the stage for more still to come. Be sure to stick around until the end of the credits for two extra scenes.
And we had some fun with our going to see it:
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| Who you gonna call? |
Some friends and I went to the theater wearing our finest Ghostbuster attire. That's my bestie since college Ed in the center. The whole thing was his idea :-)
Anyhoo, go see Ghostbusters: Afterlife. It's the perfect motion picture and quite fitting for this Thanksgiving season.
But a wedding is always a good thing to celebrate!
So to great friends Jerel and Grace: congratulations on your nuptials! You guys had a beautiful ceremony and I am thankful to have been there to see the two of you off on your adventure through life together.
(Reida once told me that she liked how I described her as "resplendent" in a blog post. She said that was one of her favorite words.)
Reida was many things: an educator, an actress, an investigator, an administrator, and always ever a woman of raucous style and a spirit to match.
Reida was a woman of many hats... literally! To say nothing of the plethora of feather boas that she was often seen wearing. Many times over the years she would don hat and boa and come to the libraries of elementary schools throughout Rockingham County and read to the children, who knew her as "the Feather Lady".
She taught English at the old Bethany High School. How did she wind up with that job? The superintendent at the time, Allan "Doc" Lewis, knew her from professional acting. And he told her that he needed someone who "could scare the hell out of those students!" That's a true story: Doc told me and Reida confirmed it some years later. Maybe she did scare them at that. But I also know that it was only because she sincerely cared a lot about young people and encouraging them to apply their minds.
I first came to know Reida around 1997, across some e-mail correspondence regarding a very peculiar episode in local history (two of her students began a project for English class and it wound up nearly getting their community to secede from the United States: that's a true story too!). We finally met in person in 2002, at a meeting of the Rockingham County Board of Education. And then four years later both of us wound up as candidates for the five new at-large seats. Reida won handily, and once again served the county as a member of the Board of Education. In all, she was on the board for eight years.
Most of all though, I remember Reida as the very dear friend who I came to have in recent years. Someone who provided not only kind and wise advice, but was also a listening ear and practically a shoulder to cry on during an especially dark period of my life. For that, I will always be thankful.
It is with a sad heart that I must report that Reida Drum passed away yesterday, at the age of 75. She leaves behind many family and friends, along with a vibrant impression that will forever be etched into grateful memory.
I'll miss you Reida. But I've also no doubt that you're parading down the streets of gold this morning, wearing your finest hat and feather boa.
Those were the words of my grandmother, twenty-five years ago this evening. And when those words were the most semblance of comfort that an eleven-year old kid had to grasp - even if he didn't really understand what it meant at the time - on what was at the time the absolute worst day of his life...
...well, they kinda stick with ya, even a quarter century later.
Heck, I can even still remember what I was wearing that day, what Granny was wearing, the most miserable dinner of pizza that I would ever have, all of the vehicles like neighbors' cars and the ambulance and the deputy sheriff cruisers that descended on our farm that afternoon. I can even tell you what show that I watched on television that night, trying and failing to lose myself, to stop thinking about it all...
...but most of all, I remember crying. Being inside the house with my sister and our two dachshund puppies, watching from the windows. I still remember calling my life-long best friend Chad, telling him about what happened: now I realize that I was desperate for a voice to talk to. And I couldn't stop crying. Harder than I ever had before until that day.
It was the ambulance arriving that first made me panic. The lady who took care of my other grandmother in the house across the road, she came to our front door. The first words that came out of me were "Did something happen to Dad?!"
No, Dad was okay.
But Mike had been killed.
Mike Ashley: 19 years old. Brown haired, a little bit of a mustache. As upstanding and Christian of a young man as you were ever likely to meet. He knew Dad because Dad had been friends with his father. And early in the summer of 1985, Mike started working on our dairy farm as a hired hand.
Being able to say that I grew up and worked on a dairy farm: that is something that I am very proud of. And with each passing year I realize how much happiness there could be found in that. I couldn't do too much, being about ten when I started. But on occasion Dad did let me help a calve to be born. And I can honestly say that I have milked cows by hand (go watch that scene in Witness where Harrison Ford's character is up at 4 a.m. to milk the cows on that Amish farm... and then imagine your friend and humble blogger doing that :-).
It was the people that Dad hired to work on our farm that I remember most vividly. Maybe that had something to do with my outlook on human nature, 'cuz at a very early age I had come to know so many kinds of people. They were white. They were black. They were migrant laborers from Mexico (some of whom spoke not a word of English, but we all seemed to understand each other somehow). They were my cousin Craig and my Uncle John. Some of them were characters in their own right. Others were - in their own way - downright silly. All of them worked hard, sometimes for a season and then going back to whatever or wherever, sometimes coming back to work again.
Mike Ashley though...
He worked as hard as anyone. Always cheerful, always smiling and with a twinkle in his eye. He was looking to go into farming as well, so this was kinda like college for him.
He was with us on the farm for two months. And in that time, well...
...he became the closest thing to an older brother that I would ever have.
I fast came to look up to Mike. Maybe it was the noble qualities that he had: qualities that in retrospect, I decided that I wanted to have in my own life. He became a role model to me.
And the thing is, I was admittedly pretty offbeat even as a kid. Mike was the first "grownup" who I had any extended time with who was sincerely interested in the things that I was interested in. And that had a lot of appeal to me.
So a lot of times in the afternoon, after Dad and Mike and whoever else had lunch and Dad took his usual nap before the afternoon milking, Mike would want to see the books that I was into. He enjoyed reading my comic books. He really loved going through my stash of MAD Magazines. And he even thought that my Transformers toys were very cool.
That is the last, best memory that I have of Mike. He was in my room on the afternoon of August 6th, and I was showing him how to convert my army of Autobots and Decepticons into their respective cars, trucks, guns, cassette tapes, what have you. Mike was instantly hooked on them! Pretty soon he was transformin' 'em just as well as me or anybody.
That was the afternoon of August 6th, 1985. And that night I found myself thanking God for the friendship that I had with Mike.
It was the very next day that Mike died on our farm.
He had been on a tractor, scraping cow manure into a manure spreader. And if you don't know already cow manure is some of the best fertilizer imaginable. On a small farm it is a very valued and precious resource. And it was something that had been done like a zillion times.
It worked like this: the manure spreader was parked below the high end of a ramp. Whoever was on the tractor would tow a bladed attachment and scrape manure that had come out of the barn and cattle stalls, off the ramp and into the spreader.
That is what Mike was doing.
To this day we don't know what caused it to happen. Maybe he saw a deer off in the field and was momentarily distracted.
The tractor drove over the top of the ramp and flipped over. Mike was killed instantly.
It was Dad who found him a short while later. He saw smoke coming from behind the barn. And then he saw the overturned tractor with Mike pinned beneath it.
A short while later the emergency vehicles and lots of cars and trucks started arriving. Mom got the call at work and rushed home immediately. She dropped my sister and me off at her mother's that night.
That's when Granny remarked that "The good die young."
Twenty-five years later and I'm still trying to suss it all out. I'd still like to know why God took Mike away from us: so young. So upstanding. So good...
He would have been 44 now. He should have known what it was like to be a husband and a father, 'cuz there's no doubt in my mind that he would have been the best. He should have had all the opportunities that a person as sweet and virtuous as he was... well, I think good people deserve more, anyway!
It's enough to make me question my own life. I'm now 36. Still young (and like to think that I'll always have that childlike quality no matter how many years go by), but I've had many more years than Mike ever got. Almost by twice as much. I look at myself and I don't see a necessarily "good" person. I see a flawed, messed-up guy who... doesn't deserve anything at all.
So help me, I have told God more times than I can count how unfair it is. That He would take someone like Mike Ashley from us and leave me - a complete screw-up who fails too many times more than I've ever succeeded - still here.
(Yeah I'll go ahead and admit it, for the first time: I am now divorced. And there is more that I am feeling led to write about that and have been feeling it for some time, but for now God is making me wait on that. It's not something to be proud of but at the same time, I cannot but feel that God has used this period to grow and mature me and make me appreciate His grace more than I ever have before... but that's an essay for another time.)
My life has been one cluster-#&@% after another. Why couldn't God have taken me? Why, why did He take Mike instead? Why does He seem to always take the people who deserve to have long, full lives on this earth?
"The good die young."
That is the closest thing to an answer that I have ever had. Maybe more so now than I ever did then, I have to draw some comfort from them.
Because God's ways... really aren't our ways at all. We expect Him to hand out goodies to us, rarely stopping to understand that this world is still a fallen place and tragedy does come from it.
I might still question Him at times. But, I am no longer angry with Him. About anything that has happened in my life. At long last I can see, and be thankful, that in spite of ourselves God doesn't mess up. That from each thing, for those who do love Him and seek after Him, He will never cease to eternally labor for our benefit.
A quarter century later, and I am thankful to God more than ever before: that He put Mike Ashley into our lives, for however brief a span.
And now you know, dear reader, that once there was a man and his name was Mike Ashley. And that he was a good man. He was someone that I have long strived to honor (and often missing the mark) with my own life and my own actions. And if others had the honor of knowing Mike, he would have left them with just as wonderful an impression from his strength of character, his humbleness, and his enthusiasm.
He was taken from this earthly realm twenty-five years ago today. I still miss him. And I still love him as the older brother that I never had.
And I do rejoice that he was here... and that he will be waiting for us all someday.
This is Bennie. She and I have been friends since 1992, when we first met while she was tagging along with family that was visiting from out of state (she used to be an exchange student with them). We hit it off so well that the following summer I visited her in Belgium... and that was my first time ever outside of America! We've hooked up quite a few times over the years. Here she is in the kitchen, making a special Belgian dinner...
What was Bennie and her family cooking up? Well, first there were these stuffed peppers and tomatoes...
And then for dessert, there was this chocolate mousse (made with real Belgian chocolate!)...
I'd thought that I'd gotten a photo of Bennie's stepson Gaetan, but apparently not. He does show up quite often in the camcorder footage though (so there is evidence that he actually exists :-). This photo is of his sister Fleur. And as you can see like any typical fourteen-year old girl, Fleur enjoys using Facebook to keep in touch with her friends (that's what she's doing on one of my computers, and incidentally this is one of the VERY rare occasions that you will EVER see my video editing room... and yeah it's a spare bedroom too :-P). The only thing really different is that when Fleur is on Facebook, she's doing it in French! How kewl is that?!
And finally, here is a picture of Bennie and her husband Eric. Yes, THAT Eric! The same Eric who told us last Thursday around 3:30 in the afternoon that he was going for a walk... and didn't come back. At 7 p.m. I had to call 911 because we had no idea where he was, Eric speaks no English, he was in unknown territory and this was the first time he had ever been overseas (or even on a plane trip for that matter). Around 7:30 a Rockingham County Sheriff's Department car pulled into my driveway and a deputy that I've known for years told me "he's walking up the road!" James didn't speak French and Eric didn't speak English but James told him "Chris Knight?" and Eric smiled and nodded. Turned out Eric walked to the end of the road I'm on toward thick woods, kept walking and ended up going more than six miles, then turned down a road he recognized from earlier that day and walked back along U.S. 158, stopping to get a Coca-Cola from a nearby store. When Bennie and I found him he was sans shirt and grinning like nobody's business. All told that was around FIFTEEN MILES that Eric walked through Terra Incognita without getting shot for trespassing, sunk in quicksand or held hostage by drug dealers. Someday I'm going to bring Eric (and Bennie to translate for him) to talk to our Boy Scout troop, 'cuz this guy definitely set a new standard for hiking in Rockingham County!
Anyway, here he is along with Bennie, sitting on the front steps of Speedwell Presbyterian Church near Reidsville...
'Twas quite a good time, with an old friend and some new ones. Lord willing I'll get to reciprocate and get back to Belgium sooner than later. It really is a sweet lil' country, and as you can see it breeds some rather hardy folks (not to mention being the home of Belgian chocolate, the Smurfs and Tintin, and the saxaphone).
Bennie, Eric, Gaetan and Fleur, thanks for stopping by. Y'all come back now, y'hear?!? :-)
And already, I'm missing 'em.
It's been a long time since I've known such a fun and action-packed last few days. Eric's incredibly bold hike through the Rockingham County wilderness yesterday, has truly inspired me. Dude only speaks French, and yet he took off on a fifteen-mile trek through woods and landscape that he had never seen before. Lord willing I'm going to get to bring him back just so I can get him to talk to our Boy Scout troop here, 'cuz he set a whole new standard for outdoorsmanship here :-)
And I made sure that Bennie left the recipes for all those exquisitely delicious Belgian dishes that she and her family made last night.
Oh yeah, I also learned something: that the Star Wars movies are perfectly suited for just about every language that you can think of! Not only do they translate well even for dubbing, but it's remarkably easy to follow along even if you don't know the language being spoken :-)
Well, anyhoo... they're on the road again, heading along on their tour of the United States. But Lord willing, we shall meet again and sooner than later ;-)
But around 3:30 this afternoon, Eric went for a walk. And didn't come back.
Long story short, we had to call 911 and have Rockingham County Sheriff's Department look for him. A short while later a deputy that I've known for many years pulled into my driveway and said that he'd found Eric walking further up the road...
Turned out that the dude went for a walk awright. He walked more than five miles east through the woods, then hiked down a road he recognized from earlier today and headed back along U.S. 158.
All in all that was around FIFTEEN MILES that Eric - a Belgian citizen who speaks only French and extremely little English - walked through strange terrain in a foreign land, and arrived right back home ('cept for about 1/5th of a mile's drive that Bennie and I gave him on the return leg).
Are these folks from Belgium a hardy breed, or what?? :-)
Anyhoo, we are currently eating Belgian chocolate mousse (yummy!) and watching Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones in French (not subtitles, real French dubbing, thank goodness for DVD technology). I speak very little French, but as it's a Star Wars movie I understand it perfectly anyway :-P
That's just what comes to mind most right now. The whole day was well documented with still and video cameras.
Lord only knows what we'll do tomorrow but having four guests from Belgium in tow has been quite an interesting, enlightening and at times hilarious experience :-)
Expect photos of whatever shenanigans we can come up with to appear on this blog soon!
That's already one of the fondest memories of my generation. But there's something else about the present time, that to me is much more special and worth honoring here. Because it was twenty-five years ago this month that a life-long friendship began between me and Chad Austin.
It was actually a few years earlier that Chad and I had met, on our first day of kindergarten at Community Baptist School in Reidsville. We didn't get to see much of each other though for the next three years because he and I wound up having different teachers, so there was one group of students that by circumstance he wound up hanging out with, and vice-versa.
But toward the end of our third-grade year, our classes were sharing a lot of recess time together and he came to me one day to ask about something. What was his question? Ahhhh, yeah I still remember that one. He asked if I by any chance had a certain action figure. As a matter of fact I did and not just one but two of 'em! I brought it with me the next day to show it to him. And then we started talking about other things too, like Return of the Jedi which was two weeks or so from being released, and whether Darth Vader was really Luke Skywalker's father: hard to believe that those were the last days of discussion and debate about what had turned into the most heated controversy of the era's pop culture.
And a funny thing happened, which I didn't have a name for it at the time but I think that even back then, Chad and I recognized a kindred spirit in each other. We enjoyed the same things like Star Wars movies and G.I. Joe comics, and more serious stuff. Like, way more serious stuff, including science and religion. Chad was the first person of my own age that I could have a deep theological discussion with.
By the time we had the end-of-year third grade cookout a week before school ended, Chad and me were fast friends. We gave our phone numbers to each other, and started laying plans for the summer. Sleepovers at each others' house were definitely in the works, especially 'cuz I wanted to come over to his place and see something his family owned and I had only heard whispered about, like a piece of arcane magic: a video-cassette recorder.
I've never forgotten my first time visiting Chad's house. I spent the night there beginning one Friday evening. His Dad brought pizza and he also got these toy Star Wars lightsabers for Chad and his brother, and we wound up having mock lightsaber duels in the backyard and on the trampoline (yeah dangerous but fun!). And Chad showed me their VCR. I still remember beholding it, in awe at the kind of power that there must be with being able to tape television shows and watch practically any movie you wanted to whenever you wanted to watch it! Sorta my introduction to the basic concept of an iPod, when ya think about it...
Anyhoo, that night we watched Tron, which I'd never seen before. And the whole time we were watching it together, Chad and me were cracking jokes at whatever was happening in the movie. It wasn't as intense as Mystery Science Theater 3000 but we couldn't resist cutting-up some. Who knew that a quarter-century later we'd still be doing that?
(By the way, I gave him my spare action figure too :-)
A few weeks later Chad visited my house for a sleepover, and we played lots of Atari 2600 together. Fourth grade started, and I think by that point at least one weekend a month was spent at on or the other's house. Most nights, we'd be up way late chatting up a storm, and I can't recall if we ever once resolved that we would try to actually get some sleep! It was on one of those nights, when I was at his place, that I told Chad something...
"Chad, I'm going to make a movie someday and I'm going to put you in it."
"What's it going to be about?"
"I don't know yet, but I'm going to put you in it."
That was January of 1984. Just one of those times when two kids are talking and dreaming about what they're going to do "when we grow up."
It's twenty-five years later now. I honestly don't know if Chad and me have grown-up yet.
But a funny thing happened: twenty years later, I did make a movie. And Chad was put in it! He had the principle role even, playing George Lucas in my first film Forcery. He did an awesome job too, despite how much he got thrashed and throttled-around in the course of production :-)
And the neat thing is, he and I still haven't stopped with our dreaming and scheming. I don't think we ever will, either...
Sixth grade came, and that was the last time we saw each other for awhile because the next year my sister and I started in public school. And there were some other things going on in my life at that point too: way much more than most twelve-year olds have to deal with. And before we knew it, there was a long time that Chad and I weren't able to keep in touch with each other.
But one day during Christmas break in our eighth-grade year, our phone rang and I happened to answer it.
"Hey Chris?"
"That's me." I didn't recognize the guy's voice. Just one of many strange things that puberty does to a guy...
"This is Chad!"
I think we spent about two hours on the phone after that, catching up on things. He was in public school now too, and he was telling me about the trip his class had taken to, I think it was Washington D.C. I told him about our class going to Disney World in a few months. We compared notes on pro wrestling and for the first time in my life I confided with a friend that I liked... as in, really liked... a girl.
(Her name was Dana. That's all I'm gonna say about that :-P)
We were expecting to see each other again when we started high school, but as it turned out Chad and I had a reunion during a month-long summer enrichment program a few months before class began. He and I took the newspaper elective together. And I wish that whatever happened between us could be bottled and sold 'cuz when Chad and I hooked-up again after so long, it was like a spigot of mad creativity that got turned on and we didn't know how to make it stop! Between Chad's hilarious cartoons (he always was a terrific artist) and my insane articles, we took over that middle-school summer project and turned it into our personal MAD Magazine. I still have a few copies of each issue that we did, too!
So then the high school years were upon us, and all the dilemmas and difficulties that come with them. And unfortunately, Chad and I didn't get to see each other much during our freshman year: again because of different schedules. The following year though he and I were inducted into the Beta Club together, and on the night of the ceremony Chad and his mom did something that turned out to be one one of the better turning-points in my life: they encouraged me to join the school's swim team, which would start practice the next day.
You gotta understand something, folks: at this point in my life I was extremely shy. Like, you wouldn't believe how withdrawn I was from people... including the people I cared for most. And this ain't the time to talk about why that might have been but take my word for it: the Chris Knight you're reading the words of today, is the farthest thing you can imagine from the Chris Knight that used to be. So think about what it was like when that shy kid was asked to not only come out of his shell, but put on a swimsuit and show the world how fast he can drown...
If it had been anyone but Chad telling me that I could do this, I don't know if I would have tried. But he said that this would be a fun thing, so the next day I showed up at the first practice.
If somebody had told me that I would be on Rockingham County Senior High's Swim Team for that year and the next two, I would never have believed it. Or that before it was over with that I would have earned a trophy for "Most Improved Swimmer".
I also remember the day during one meet (we were swimming in the pool at what was then Elon College) that Chad was about to finish a race and he dislocated his shoulder. And it came out so loud, that we literally heard the thing pop out of joint all the way across the pool.
Chad went into physical therapy for his injury. But he never gave up. He came to every practice and every meet. And as soon as his doctor gave him the green light, Chad was back in the pool...
...swimming with one arm...
...and coming in first a few times too!
(It goes without saying that Chad quickly earned the nickname of "One Armed Bandit" ;-)
It was our junior year of high school that the friendship between Chad and me really began taking the form that would follow us into the rest of our lives. We had more classes together then and he and I were talking on the phone a lot more too (but this time less about pro wrestling and a lot more about girls). In computer class we were still cutting-up together. And yes, that was when the now-infamous "Chris Knight does Elvis" thing first happened. Before lunch that day, posters advertising "Chris Knight Does Elvis! See him shake his pelvis! One show TONIGHT ONLY!" had appeared on just about every bulletin board on campus. There is also my very strange "Buffalo Bill" impersonation from The Silence of the Lambs too (which I'd sometimes do on the starting blocks during a swim meet) but we don't have to go there...
Toward the end of our junior year, something else happened to Chad and me that years later we still crack up laughing about. That wasn't long after I'd discovered Monday Night Live on what was at the time WAEU Channel 14. One Monday in school Chad said he was going to call up the show that night with this "laughing box" that he had. It took him a few weeks but sure enough, on a night in early May in 1991...
Ken Echols: "Well you know Mark, this is the time of year, getting to be summer, people start spending more time outside, and calls to the program sometimes become sparse. So we'll often have these periods of lull that we'll have to sit through, waiting for someone to call us..."By then my own phone was ringing and Chad was asking if I'd heard that. I don't think there was another Monday night from then on until we graduated high school that he or I and sometimes both of us would prank-call Monday Night Live. I still have most of the tapes of those shows, too! And I was already calling the show a lot to talk about serious topics but then whenever Chad did his laughing box, that was a personal obligation to phone in a prank too. And we had a system: whenever we called up the station, we told the screener that "Uhhh yeah I want to talk about the cruising on Scales Street" and just like a charm, we were in the phone queue. Then whenever Ken said "Hello you're on the air" Chad would hit the laughing box button or I would shout "HE SHOOTS HE SCORES!!!!"... and so it went.(A few minutes later...)
Mark Childrey: "And it looks like we finally have a caller!"
Ken Echols: (answering phone) "Hello you're on the air."
Mysterious Prank Caller: (the next several seconds are of a laughing box going "HHHHHHHHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAHAHAHA...")
(Ken Echols laughs so hard that he has to bend away from the desk and off-camera in order to regain his composure)
Mark Childrey: "Okay well you know, that's how it is sometimes. Things get slow, and then some nut decides he wants to play around and..."
After high school, Chad went on to UNC-Chapel Hill and I lingered around Reidsville for a few years, not too sure of what I wanted to do so I took full-time classes at the nearby community college. We were much better at keeping in touch though. And by this time the Star Wars saga was starting to return to full-bore popularity, and I was reading all the new novels and comics that were coming out from it. The summer after our second year of college Chad was interning at the Reidsville newspaper and he wound up writing a column about how Star Wars was making a comeback: I still have that, too.
Then the following year I started at Elon. And by this time the Internet was everywhere, so Chad and me were writing e-mails to each other just about every day. I always knew an e-mail from Chad just by looking at the subject line: he would also use some reference to Sanford and Son, his all-time favorite television show. There are floppies in my possession from those years that are loaded with e-mails that have "Esther" and "I'm coming to join you 'Lizabeth!" and "I'll stick my foot in your... hello?" as their subjects.
After he graduated from Chapel Hill, Chad worked some stints at the Naval Academy and then some colleges in Georgia. A year after I graduated from Elon I wound up in Asheville, and by that time he and I had added AOL Instant Messenger to our communications repertoire. It was also around that time that I told Chad that there was a girl that I'd started talking to, and she was very different from other girls that I'd met before.
Chad and Lisa became great friends too. I didn't know it at the time but she was "conspiring" with him to give me a great birthday in 2001, after the previous year when my birthday had been spent as a pallbearer at my grandmother's funeral. So Lisa and I wound up meeting Chad at the CNN Building in Atlanta, where he was working at the time, and he gave us a tour of the place that most people never get to see. Two months later the three of us got together again for a day at Six Flags.
And then a few months after that came 9/11. Chad was part of the Sports Illustrated staff, but nobody was writing about sports on that day. He was able to use Instant Messenger at work, and we were up 'til 1 a.m. on the morning after the attacks talking about it, sharing news links and photos that we'd found about the tragedy. Like ever other instant message, I saved those too.
The following months were punctuated by Lisa and me getting engaged, and then our wedding in the summer of 2002. For my groomsmen I chose three of the people who have become not just the best friends any guy could ask for, but also true brothers in every sense: Johnny Yow, Ed Woody, and Chad Austin. And I could visually elaborate on the camaraderie by posting some pics of the bachelor party we had the night before the wedding, but this write-up is getting long enough as it is.
And now here it is: twenty-five years since that day in third grade when we started talking about action figures. And I still have barely touched on the things that have happened during the friendship of Chad Austin and Chris Knight. How could anyone possibly chronicle all the good times, the bad times and the crazy times in between? And yes, there have been some times of genuine hardship and heartache. There have even been, it shames me to admit, times where less-virtuous words have been exchanged between us.
But you know... in the end, those didn't matter. Because the respect and admiration, and loyalty... and yes, love... that we've had for each other, has always borne out. And Chad and I came out stronger from everything that's happened to us, too. Every tragedy in our families and among our circle of friends, we've been there for each other. He and I have become brothers, and our families have become as one family as well over the years.
And there's no doubt that across the years I've learned not only much about the true meaning and value of friendship from Chad, but also about the grace of God and how much His grace is sufficient. Chad Austin is one of the most sincere and earnestly-seeking followers of Christ that I have ever known, and he really has no idea how much of an inspiration he has been for me to seek after Christ with that same measure of humility and desire. You want a model of Christian discipleship? Folks, don't look at me, 'cuz I'm not it. But I can point to a few people who are that, starting with Chad Austin.
So here it is, a quarter-century of friendship between two guys that gets to be celebrated. Which is one of the reasons why I wanted to make a post about this, 'cuz as bad as things are becoming in this world we could all use a little reminder that good things still endure.
And hey, seeing as how far we've come already...
...is there any doubt that the next twenty-five years are going to be even more fun? :-)
Happy anniversary, brother. Here's to looking forward to another quarter-century of good times and general mayhem!
As it turned out, Eric was madly doing a Google search for such a concert. And he found one! And lo and behold, there was one scheduled for May 10th!
So long story short, two nights ago Lisa and I, along with Chad Austin and his girlfriend Koren, hooked up with Eric and his wife Kira and their two sons Jake and Ben for dinner at the Red Robin near the new Target store off New Garden Road in Greensboro. And then we headed off to Westover Church to enjoy "The Music of John Williams" performed by the the Greensboro Symphony Orchestra and conducted by Michael Krajewski.
The concert began at 8 p.m. Greensboro Symphony CEO Lisa Crawford took to the stage and welcomed everyone and thanked those who worked to make this concert possible, and she especially made mention of "the 501st Legion" which probably didn't register with a lot of folks in attendance...
Mr. Krajewski noted that 2008 is an Olympic year so it was fitting that the concert started off with the "Olympic Fanfare and Theme", which Williams composed for the 1984 Summer Olympics (and which has subsequently been used for every television broadcast of the Olympics). This was followed with the overture for 1972's The Cowboys (one of John Wayne's later films). And already, we were thrilling to hearing John Williams' music performed by such an amazing orchestra... and a terrific conductor! We all agreed afterward that Michael Krajewski not only did a beautiful job in conducting the concert but he brought a lot of wit and humor to the show as well.
After the music from The Cowboys, Krajewski remarked that the next John Williams piece became world famous for only two notes from it, and how since he lived not far from the beach that every time he came near the water he - along with everyone else who has seen the movie - hears those two notes in his head and thinks of sharks. So it was that the orchestra began playing the theme from Jaws, and for emphasis the two giant screens in Westover's sanctuary were displaying that still from the movie where the shark breaks the surface as Brody is tossing chum into the water.
Following the "Theme from Jaws", Mr. Krajewski discussed the history and importance of music in motion pictures, beginning with the live piano that was often played during silent movies. He also related the anecdote about Hugo Friedhofer, the composer for Alfred Hitchcock's Lifeboat, who was told during production that there would be no need for his music after all because "where would the music be coming from in the middle of the ocean?" Friedhofer told the producer to go ask Hitchcock about "where would the cameras be coming from then?"
The next piece of the evening is one that Krajewski noted is the one that Williams has regarded as his single favorite bit of composition from his long career: the "Flying Theme" from E.T. the Extra-terrestrial. And you know how you gauge how well an orchestra is playing? It's if they succeed in making your eyes well up with tears. Folks, I have to declare that this indeed happened to me during the E.T. music: that particular score has always been very moving for me to hear, and to enjoy it in a live performance was especially overwhelming.
Krajewski then addressed the audience again, and said that there was something he never understood about when George Reeves played Superman on television: it wasn't just the fact that bullets bounced off of him but then he ducked whenever the bad guys threw their empty guns at Superman (I never thought of that before). It was also that nobody - not even Lois Lane "who's supposed to be this ace reporter" Krajewski noted - ever figures out that Clark Kent and Superman are the same person! "I tried this with my wife once," Krajewski told us, and said he tried putting glasses on and passing as a whole different person but "it didn't work".
And with that, the orchestra began playing the "Love Theme" from 1978's Superman. Can you believe it's now been almost 30 years since that movie came out? The screens then showed the Superman-garbed Christopher Reeve, who really did make us believe that a man can fly. This is another piece that I've always enjoyed over the years, and was thrilled that it was included on the program.
Fast-forward twenty-three years, and we came to the next bit of John Williams music: "Hedwig's Theme" from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. A terrific performance in its own right. But then an actress dressed as Hermione Granger casually walked on stage as the music played, before getting chased through the sanctuary by Dolores Umbridge and Argus Filch! A very neat touch, and that was only the beginning...
Now the concert shifted gears dramatically, and the strings section got a chance to shine with what there is little doubt is the most haunting music that John Williams ever composed: the theme from Schindler's List. Mr. Krajewski remarked that this was not only a film that many people doubted Spielberg could pull off (because he was famous for considerably lighter fare about aliens and dinosaurs) but there was also wonder about what Williams would do with such a powerful film also. It didn't get mentioned during the show, but I've heard Williams say in an interview that Schindler's List was the hardest film he ever scored and also the one that moved him the most to work on.
Now, this one, "Theme from Schindler's List", it breaks me hard every time. And you wanna know why? I'm not gonna share the details here 'cuz that's not the point of this post, but at least twice in my life I've encountered Schindler's legacy... including meeting (long before the movie ever came out) one of the Schindlerjuden. And yes, I know that there were some historical liberties taken with the film Schindler's List. But so far as conveying the tragedy of the Holocaust, I still know of no other film that has ever come close. And the score by John Williams, with its Eastern Europe style that is both mournful and brimming with hope... has there ever been a film score so profoundly moving? I honestly don't know if there has been. This is at once John Williams' finest and most definitive piece, and also the one beyond all reckoning with anything else from his repertoire. Just as Schindler's List stands far apart from anything else of modern filmmaking, so too does its musical score. And I don't know if that's ever been said nearly enough. Mr. Krajewski and the Greensboro Symphony Orchestra got extra-hard and well-deserved applause for their performance of this piece.
Then the tone of the show tilted wildly. Eric and I could hardly believe this next one, 'cuz just a few hours earlier he was telling us how he always loved Spielberg's movie 1941: a film that I've always thought has been horribly misunderstood. Well, the next piece of the evening was "March from 1941"! Me and Eric could hardly contain our giggling at getting to hear this performed live. Incidentally, Krajewski told us that in spite of how poorly 1941 fared in contrast to his other films, that Spielberg regards this as his favorite Williams-composed march. As the orchestra played the screen filled with the image of "Wild Bill" Kelso chomping on a cigar. Think about that: John Belushi's huge mug glowering down from the front of a church sanctuary. Definitely a sight that will be forever etched in my gray matter...
Then came the intermission. We took the time to stand up and stretch, and we talked about how good a show it had been already. About ten minutes later the lights dimmed again. Mr. Krajewski took to the podium and without warning, the orchestra launched into the "Raiders March" from Raiders of the Lost Ark! Not long after they started playing, none other than Indiana Jones - complete with bullwhip - crept his way onto the stage and among the musicians. It wasn't long before he hefted aloft the famous golden idol from the South American temple at the beginning of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Everyone cheered! And I was seriously expecting to witness some half-naked Hovitos chase Indy across the stage. That didn't happen and I didn't see any snakes, either :-) After the piece finished, Krajewski reminded us that a new Indiana Jones movie was about to come out: "I think it's going to be called Indiana Jones and the Search for Medicare", he joked.
The next bit of music is one that most people have never heard of in its entirety but everyone has listened to part of at least once: the theme music for NBC Nightly News. It's actually called "The Mission" and Williams it turns out has always appreciated having it enjoyed in its entirety. It's a very good piece in the classic John Williams style, and maybe someday there will be a broadcast of NBC Nightly News that features this entire score and not so much bad news: an event that John Williams has said would be "a good news day".
Then came the part of the evening that I think it's safe to say was the highlight of the evening: the music that Williams has composed for the Star Wars movies. Krajewski informed everyone that across the span of six movies and almost thirty years, Williams wrote more than 14 hours of original music for George Lucas' epic space opera: "So I hope you went to the restroom during intermission," Krajewski quipped. He then said that in addition to six movies that there might be a seventh Star Wars movie coming out called "The Sith Hits the Fan". Some mild groaning at that one, heh-heh... :-)
The "Main Theme" from ever Star Wars movie was the first bit of saga music to be performed, followed by "The Flag Parade" From Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace. "Anakin's Theme" came next, and then the piece that Eric said weeks ago he was most giddy about hearing performed live: "Duel of the Fates". Even without a choral accompaniment, it's plenty powerful. During "Duel of the Fates" an actress in Princess Leia's outfit from Episode IV: A New Hope - complete with hair buns - made an escape across the stage from fully-armored Imperial Stormtroopers, who then engaged in a blaster fight with Rebel soldiers. This was the first appearance by the 501st Legion during the show and judging from the reaction, it was a huge crowd pleaser.
Then came "Imperial March". The Stormtroopers returned to the stage. And then none other than the Dark Lord of the Sith himself, Darth Vader, angrily strode across the stage, stood on the conductor's platform and stared down Michael Krajewski. Vader personally conducted the final strains of "Imperial March". And it must be said: Darth Vader is not only dangerous with a lightsaber, he's pretty adept at conducting an orchestra too!
When Krajewski finally regained his position (because nobody is going to dispute when Darth Vader wants something) he led the orchestra with "Yoda's Theme" from Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back and finished the Star Wars portion of the program with "Throne Room" from A New Hope. As "Throne Room" was winding down, a wild assortment of Stormtroopers, Jedi, generic Mandalore Supercommandos, TIE Pilots, Royal Guards, and Imperial Officers arrived for the finale...
But that still was not the end of the show! After Mr. Krajewski had taken a bow, he left and just as quickly returned, and in an encore led the orchestra in a performance of the "Theme from Superman". During the main chords of it a guy in a Superman costume leaped from the stage, ran to the back of the sanctuary and returned with a "damsel in distress" in his arms.
I'd say that between the musical talent of the Greensboro Symphony, the conducting skill and good banter of Michael Krajewski, and the theatrics by the 501st and everyone else, this turned out to be quite a show. I told Lisa on our way home that it was by far one of the best evenings that I'd enjoyed in quite a long time.
'Course, having good friends to share it with certainly went a long way, too! Here we all are after the concert (in front of what Chad and I realized after this pic was taken is the baptistery of Westover Church)...
This past Monday night at the meeting of the Rockingham County Board of Education, I spoke during the public comments portion of the evening. Board Chairwoman Elaine McCollum had already shared some very wonderful words about Gene Saunders, and I felt led to talk about Gene too since I had been one of his students. But for the past few months I'd already had it in mind to come to this particular meeting so that I could honor someone else. It just so happened that instead of one person who made a tremendous impact on my life, I wound up going to the podium and talking about two.
After I spoke for a bit about Gene and how much of a difference he had made in my life, I told the board and everyone present that I had felt led to make note of the fact that the birthday of the man who had perhaps done more to further education than anyone else in Rockingham County was this week.
So it is that today, January 19th, 2008, is the 100th birthday of James Allan Lewis. Or as he was better known to Lord only knows how many people who he came in contact with over the years: "Doc Lewis".
He was without a doubt the most memorable character that I have ever known in my life.
And when I say that he was a "character", that is most assuredly not an understatement.
This is the man who defined the meaning of the term "larger than life". From the very first time that I met him, when I was just an 11-year old Boy Scout in 1985, I knew that God must have broken the mold when He made Doc Lewis. If anyone ever pitched a movie about his life to some Hollywood studio, he or she would probably be laughed out of the office and escorted off the premises by armed guards, because nobody could have lived a life like that... could they?
Well, Doc did.
Allan Lewis was born in Danville, Virginia on January 19th, 1908. A few years later World War I broke out, and Doc once told me about how on the day of the armistice in November 1918, that the whole town of Danville celebrated and were doing things like setting off fireworks and dragging an effigy of Kaiser Wilhelm II through the streets, while people spat on and made rude gestures toward it.
In the years prior to the Great Depression, Allan Lewis was a cadet at the Virginia Military Institute, and then attended Lynchburg College. He then went on to pursue graduate work at Columbia University in New York City, the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (which a lot of people will no doubt appreciate that Doc was a life-long avid fan of the Tarheels), and also at UNC-Greensboro.
And during all of this time, while he was pursuing his studies in the field of education, the young Allan Lewis... had an interesting life.
When he was in New York City, Allan became heavily involved with Broadway theatre and the vaudeville stage. How involved? Let's see: I know that Doc became friends with George Burns and Gracie Allen early in his life (yes, that George Burns and Gracie Allen). I know that Doc took Katherine Hepburn out to dinner at least once (yup, that Katherine Hepburn, too). Doc mentioned so many names of famous people over the years, that there's no way to compile a full list of who he knew and who knew him.
And then there's the story of about how he and some friends put their money together to buy a Model T car so that they could drive to New York City for the World's Fair. Doc told me that so many times on the way over there one (and sometimes more) of the tires got a flat... so they had to stop and put the tire in some water to try to find the leak and then patch it up before going on.
Well, there are many more adventures from the early days of Allan Lewis that I've heard over the years, but I would be sitting here 'til noon tomorrow if I were to try to compose them all for this blog entry.
In 1934, Allan Lewis became the principal of Sadler Elementary School in Reidsville. He served for some years there and then was made the principal of Wentworth Consolidated Schools. And in 1948, he was made superintendent of the Rockingham County School system. Keep in mind that the average term for most superintendents these days is about 3 years at any one system.
Lewis stayed on for 22 years. And in that time he not only guided the system through the turbulence of the post-war years, he also vigorously pursued the construction of new schools, especially a new central high school for the then-existing system. A few years after he retired, Rockingham County Senior High School opened its doors, including those for the J. Allan Lewis Auditorium.
But as magnificent and highly-renowned a career as Allan Lewis had as an educator, some will argue quite convincingly that his fame as an advocate for the Boy Scouts of America was far, far greater.
It was at the original Boy Scout camp for the Cherokee Council near Reidsville that Allan Lewis received the nickname that would follow him for the rest of his life. Lewis volunteered to work at the health lodge, and very early on in his time there the boys started calling him "Doc", because he was the one who patched them up. The name stuck.
Doc was an active Scouter for well over 60 years. And he was still working at the health lodge for most of that time, both at the original Camp Cherokee near Reidsville, and then in 1968 when the camp relocated to Cherokee Scout Reservation not far from Yanceyville in adjoining Caswell County.
(At this point I could also talk about "the hermit" who lived deep in the woods near Cherokee Scout Reservation, and how Doc and some other delegates were shot at while trying to visit him one day, and then that the hermit died before the camp was to open and how his pet wolves went nuts and how they found the hermit's bones at his cabin... and supposedly the cabin was haunted... but that's a story for another time.)
Throughout most of his time in the Boy Scouts, Doc became especially involved with the Order of the Arrow, the honor society within the Boy Scouts of America. One of Doc's proudest possessions was a photograph of himself sitting next to E. Urner Goodman, the founder of the Order of the Arrow. Doc was also friends with Carroll A. Edson, the co-founder of the Order.
I became a member of the Order of the Arrow in 1987. Doc told me on the night following my Ordeal that he was proud of me and that from now on, we were symbolically brothers. I don't know if he ever knew how to so many young men, he was far more than their brother: he was also their surrogate grandfather, and maybe even father to some.
I went to two national Order of the Arrow conferences with Doc: one in Fort Collins, Colorado and then a few years later to one at the University of Indiana. Going on a trip with Doc was an absolute hoot! Everywhere we went, he seemed to know something about the place. Chalk it up to him being such a widely-traveled guy: Doc had visited every state in the union except Alaska, and he had visited many countries overseas during his long career. He was also fun to have on the road or on the flight over for all of the hilarious jokes and stories that he would tell us.
Both at the Reidsville camp and Cherokee Scout Reservation, Doc not only was the camp medic, he also put the theatrical knowledge that he picked-up while working on Broadway to use. Among other things, during ceremonies for the Order of the Arrow he would sometimes have a Scout swim across the lake... while carrying a lit torch. He was also experienced with makeup and costuming.
For most of his career with the Cherokee Council, and later the Old North State Council after the Cherokee Council merged with a few others in the early Nineties, Doc served as the council's "Goodwill Ambassador" to the world. He was on the executive board of the Boy Scouts of America for 40 years, and was known not only throughout the United States but around the world for his work with the Boy Scouts. There was one fellow in particular who also was heavily active in the Boy Scouts movement, who Doc not only worked alongside for many years but also became very good friends with. You might have heard of him: his name was Norman Rockwell.
Doc was also a president of Rotary International of Reidsville. He was also involved with several educational organizations and at one time served as president of the Rockingham County Historical Society.
He was certainly an active, involved person. But you know... I still haven't really touched on Doc's personality at all.
Doc Lewis was always "turned on". He probably possessed the most indomitable spirit that I ever met in anyone in my entire life. Imagine Groucho Marx as a Jedi Master, and that was Doc Lewis. He was simultaneously the wisest sage that you'd ever come across and this wise-cracking comedian who would never fail to make you smile. And I don't know if it's really my place to share this or not, but it has to be said: Doc Lewis was the master of the art of the dirty joke. But not "dirty" in the modern connotation at all: Doc was sly and clever with innuendo and subtle terms, the way that such humor was done before it degraded into "gutter comedy". There's one joke of his that I am horribly tempted to share here, and to this day it's probably the funniest joke I've ever heard... but if I were to post it here, Google would not only wipe out my blog but it would also send goons to my house to apply a sledgehammer to my typing fingers so as to make sure that it never happened again. But trust me, it's hilarious (and also rather clean, believe it or not).
Doc was also a dancin' fool. Even well into his eighties, he had a spring in his step lacking in most guys just in their twenties and even younger. Anyone who ever saw him prancing in the amphitheater at the Cherokee Scout Reservation will not ever forget the sight of him hopping across the stage as he encouraged everyone to sing.
There's so much about Doc that I could share here, and I honestly don't know what I could possibly say about him that could do his memory the full justice that it deserves. He was just an... amazing person to have known. But I guess I need to wrap this up, so I'll relate just a few of my personal memories about Doc.
As I mentioned earlier, we met in 1985, when he came to a meeting of our troop one night. Later that week I was at a Boy Scout camporee and that's where Doc and I really started getting to know each other. To this day I'll never know why he took such a special shine to me, but he said many times over the years that he was really glad for our friendship. Maybe it's because Doc really was an offbeat person, and I was a much younger offbeat person that looked up to him as a model and an example that yes, it was okay to be a bit off-kilter.
I can also attest that I was one of the Scouts that Doc "patched-up" at the health lodge at the Cherokee Scout Reservation. It happened my very first day at the camp: I got a horrible splinter embedded in my foot on the dock at the lake. Two other Scouts had to hold me up as I literally hopped a half-mile to the health lodge. Doc propped me up on the table, took hold of my foot and pulled the splinter out with some tweezers. So yeah, I was one of Doc's patients. I honestly don't think that you could say that you had the full experience at Cherokee Scout Reservation until Doc fixed you up in the health lodge.
Doc was on my Eagle Scout board of review, and I'll always feel honored that he took part in that. He also came to the ceremony a few months later when Jamie Revis and I - the only two out of dozens of Boy Scouts who had been part of our troop with us that whole time - received our Eagle Scout rank. I've a picture somewhere of Doc leading us in the Scout Oath. That was one of the proudest moments of my life.
And then a few years later came one of the more hilarious experiences that I had with Doc. One day in the summer of 1994, I drove to his house and picked him up for lunch. We went to the Libby Hills restaurant here in Reidsville, which is where I was working at the time. Our waitress was this girl who, yeah I'll go ahead and say it: she was very sweet and very beautiful. And Doc thought so too...
"Who's she?" he asked.
"That's (name removed to protect privacy)," I told him.
"She's nice!" Doc said. "Do you like her?"
"Ummm, well... uhhh... well I don't think she's seeing anyone right now," I told him. And I'll admit it: she was that nice kind of girl that I had been hoping and praying to wind up in a relationship with. I found out a few years later that she had gotten married and was doing well, so I'm glad that she ended up happy.
But at this moment in July of 1994, Doc was hellbent on playing matchmaker.
"Here, let me leave the tip. If she asks, tell her that you wanted to do this for her."
Doc Lewis pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and plunked it on the table!
I tried, honestly I tried, to stop him. But Doc wouldn't have it. He wanted me to do something to impress that girl and make her notice me. And oh yeah she did notice. "Chris that was crazy! You didn't have to do that!" she told me a few nights later at work. I told her that my friend Doc had left it for her, and that he thought she was a good waitress and that she was a really sweet person. Yeah, I know: I didn't quite follow-through on Doc's plan. But I'm glad that she got to know that it was Doc and not me who left it for her. And in my own way, I did tell her that I thought she was a good person, too. Maybe that didn't lead to something that Doc might have had in mind... but that was two people who were made a little happier, however briefly, because of it. And knowing that made me happy, too.
So much else that I could write here, about Doc. All these years later after first meeting him, the impact he made on my life still can't be fully measured.
He was one of the greatest people that I never knew. And one of my dearest friends.
James Allan "Doc" Lewis passed away on December 8th, 2004, just over a month shy of his 97th birthday.
He was more than a friend. He was more than a symbolic brother. He was the grandfather that I never had.
I still miss him. And I still love him.
I know of no better way to wrap this up, and to honor his memory, than with a song. It's one that Doc Lewis himself wrote. It's the official camp song for Cherokee Scout Reservation, and has been sung at places such as the Golden Gate Bridge and the Wright Brothers Memorial.
Here it is, sung to the tune of "I've Been Working on the Railroad"...
Until Gabriel blows his horn, we'll wait to see you again Doc."The Eyes of Cherokee"
(words by Allan "Doc" Lewis)The eyes of Cherokee are upon you,
All the live-long day.
The eyes of Cherokee are upon you,
You cannot get away.
Do not try to escape them
At night or early in the morn.
The eyes of Cherokee are upon you,
'Til Gabriel blows his horn.
(By the way, January 19th is also the birthday of Edgar Allan Poe and Robert E. Lee. Doc was always proud of the fact that he shared his birthday with those two historical figures :-)
One of the things that I'd wanted to do while I was in Texas was visit my brother-in-law Jonathan, who's a seminary student at Baylor University in Waco. On Friday, the day after I went to the Alamo, Deborah and I hopped in my rented Jeep and took off for Austin, where we'd catch I-35 north.
Here's Austin as we were entering town...
Here's Deborah. The last time we'd seen each other, it was at Star Wars Celebration III in Indianapolis two and a half years earlier.
This was taken while we were on Congressional Avenue, with the Texas State Capitol in front of us...
This is me, in front of the University of Texas Tower. This is the very building from which Charles Whitman shot and killed all those people in 1966. I heard that there are still places around the building down on the street that you can see where the bullets hit concrete walls and such. Macabre history aside, the Tower is one of the things that dominate the Austin landscape, and is often lit up for holidays and whenever University of Texas wins a ballgame.
After that, Deborah and I got onto I-35 and headed north. It was about two hours later when we hit the outskirts of Waco. A short while later, and we were at Jonathan's apartment! 'Twas a really great thing to hook up with my bro-in-law so far from home.
By the time we got there, we were starving. Jonathan said that he knew of a good place to eat, and it must have been 'cuz he's mentioned this a few times already: Rosati's Pizza. That's where he took us. Here's Jonathan after we got seated...
Rosati's serves up Chicago-style deep-dish pizza. That was the first time that I'd ever had any and it was delicious! Here's the soft drink cup that I got, which I took a pic of mostly so I could point out the phone number of the place...
After lunch, Jonathan took us to the Dr. Pepper Museum. Waco is the town where Dr. Pepper was first invented, and it's practically the official drink of the state of Texas...
Here's Deborah with a spooky animatronic talking Charles Alderton, the guy who invented Dr. Pepper...
We were at the Dr. Pepper Museum for a while and then Jonathan took us on a tour of Baylor, which is one of the biggest campuses that I've ever seen: the science building itself is bigger than the entire campus of Elon University south of Haggard Avenue! Here's Baylor as we were entering the place...
Here's a side-shot of the seminary building. Note the Bible verse that says "The night cometh". That's the seminary's ummm... official verse, or something, according to Jonathan...
A shot of inside the stained-glass windows inside the seminary's chapel...
This is Deborah and I at the sign outside the seminary. The building behind us is a parking deck, that Jonathan said the Baylor students refer to as the "Garage-Mahal". Something else about Baylor: every building on campus seems to have at least one steeple. Strange, that...
And here's me and Jonathan at the sign for the George W. Truett Theological Seminary...
After we went around Baylor, we headed back to Jonathan's place, said our goodbyes for now ('cuz it would just be a few more weeks before Jonathan and I saw each other again) and Deboran and I headed back to her house near Austin. On the return trip, we got to see a beautiful sunset, and Deborah was able to get some pics...
We made it back to her house, and then I was headed back toward downtown Austin, for this "meet and greet" for the Butt-Numb-A-Thon 9 attendees at a local chili honky-tonk. That's where, after all of these years (I was one of Ain't It Cool News's first readers, even remember the day Harry posted those pictures from Star Wars Episode IV Special Edition which kinda launched the site) I got to finally meet Harry Knowles. Here's the pic of us together...
Then I went back to Deborah's place and wound up having to call FedEx to fuss at them for not having delivered a package on time (I'd sent it on Monday for 2-day delivery to Deborah's house, and it was now Friday night). The FedEx rep - who I'm fairly sure wasn't even talking to me from anywhere in the United States - told me that it would get there "tomorrow". When tomorrow morning came, it still hadn't got there... and the next FedEx person that I talked to on the phone said that particular station wasn't even open on weekends! "I don't care how you do it," I told her, "you had better get that package here today. I don't care if they are closed are not, FedEx failed to live up to its end of a contract. You'd better make up for it immediately." Well those weren't my exact words: they actual dialogue was, shall we say, far more colorful. But this comes into play before long in our story, that's why I wanted to mention it.
Saturday was the day of Butt-Numb-A-Thon 9. That morning before I left for the event in Austin (which I wouldn't return from until the following day, it being a 24-hour long film festival), I spotted this dear outside of Deborah's kitchen window...
Not long after that, I left for Butt-Numb-A-Thon 9. There aren't any pictures from that, because cameras, cellphones and similar electronic devices weren't allowed. Here's the report on Butt-Numb-A-Thon 9 that I made a few days after I got back home, in case you're wondering what went on there (I'm still laughing at how they ran a documentary about a urethroplasty during breakfast).
Butt-Numb-A-Thon 9 ended a little after noon on Sunday. I went back to where I'd parked the Jeep, at the Hilton Hotel a few blocks away, and then very tiredly headed back "home". On the main road to Deborah's house a storm front was roaring across the landscape, and I got to get a neat pic of that...
The front brought significantly lower temperates to that part of Texas: most of the time that I was there, it was around 70-72. The high the next day was 50.
When I got back, I found out that a FedEx person had come from the shipping facility not long after I'd left the previous day, driving his own car and very apologetic about how my package had been sitting at his office for three days without any attempt to deliver. I'll give FedEx credit for trying to make up for their bungling (in addition to their offering to refund my money). Now, what was so important about that package? I'd put some presents in it for Deborah and her family, out of gratitude for their providing me with a place to stay while I was there for the film festival. Some of this stuff that I was giving them weren't the kind of things that you want to bring on a commercial airliner. Namely, this very cool railroad spike knife (the entire knife, blade and handle, is forged from a single railroad spike) that my Dad made for me to give to Deborah's father...
I also gave Deborah some Star Wars figures from my personal collection that I knew she had been looking for, and gift cards for her and her sisters.
And that's pretty much it for the Texas trip. The next morning I finished packing, bid farewell to Deborah and her family (Lord willing, Lisa and I will be going to Austin in the spring and we'll get to see Deborah again) and then I headed to the airport, stopping at a shipping place on the way to get the HD-DVD player (the one that Harry gave everyone who attended Butt-Numb-A-Thon 9) and posters from the event sent home 'cuz there wasn't room to put them in my luggage. I turned in the Jeep, checked in my luggage, hopped on the plane, and started the journey home.
Very heartfelt thanks to Deborah Wilson, her dad, her sisters, and their dogs for hosting me while I was visiting Texas!
All in all, it was a terrific trip. And after everything else that's happened over this past year, the whole thing was a wonderful way to help cap off 2007. I hope and pray that maybe, just maybe, it'll be a sign that things might bode well for 2008 :-)
