Musings: HOW LONG, OH LORD?

4136

Pt. 1

And I think about all of us walking

our own Green Mile...

each in our own time.

But one thought

more than any other...

keeps me awake most nights:

If I have already outlived all those

Whom I knew and loved,

If I have already lived

so long...

how much longer do I have?

Each of us will live out our lives,

And ultimately… we will die.

There are no exceptions.

But, oh, God sometimes

…the Green Mile seems so long.

(Closing words from “The Green Mile” slightly edited to fit the focus of this blog)

Pt. 2

I can relate to the closing lines of “The Green Mile.”

Speaking of The Green Mile, my wife and I were watching this movie when we received the call that my father had passed from this earth. (Rather coincidental, I think, given the plot, and final lines in the movie).

Speaking of “The Green Mile,” I have often described myself as “The Last Man Standing.” You see, I have lost numerous friends, and yet, (so far), I find myself still living, and breathing, and moving.

I met Sam Jones and Bill Redden when we moved from Tampa to Northern Virginia in the early 70’s; after my stint in the Air Force. Sam was a slightly overweight, middle-aged black man who attended my church. He was incessantly happy, and enjoyed cracking jokes. His smile would light up the world. Bill, hmmm, I don’t recall where I met Bill. It’s possible he attended Christ Chapel also. Bill was slim, much quieter, and a bit pensive, I think. As with another duo I will mention, below, I thought of Sam and Bill and myself as a modern day version of “The Three Musketeers.”

Then there was Rev. Thellon Bryant. Having transferred from my position as Assistant Manager of the leased Woolco Shoe Department in Woodbridge, VA to my new position as Manager of the Woolco Shoe Department in Gadsden, AL, I had the privilege to speaking at a little church in Boaz, AL. (At the time I held ministerial credentials). “Bro.” Bryant apparently liked me, and my message, and subsequently offered me the unpaid position of Associate Pastor at Boaz Assembly. He was a southerner all the way, and had an infectious grin. I never thought I knew him all that well, but we were a very successful ministry team.

Pt. 3

Then there was SFC Bob Hoehne and WO4 Sam Simpson. (If you are a student of all things military, you will recognize the Army rank designations before their names.) Sergeant Hoehne and “Mr.” Simpson were members of my visiting personnel team at HQ, 2^nd Battalion, 116^th Field Artillery, Florida Army National Guard, Lakeland, Florida. Bob was from New Jersey. And I can tell you he was a “real piece of work.” (Unfortunately, he was a smoker, and, no doubt, his tobacco use contributed to his demise). He was “just full” of dry humor. I remember standing behind him in the breakfast chow line once when he told the cook, “Give me one grit.” Sam was almost all business; with an occasional exception to the rule. When asked where he was from, he would often say, “South America.” And when the individual would give him a quizzical look, he would continue. “You know, Alabama. It’s south, and it’s in America.”

SFC Clifford Morton was a permanent member of the Personnel Section at the same National Guard unit to which I previously alluded. He was a professional soldier. I will always remember an adage he quoted, and quoted often. “Know you stuff. (Well, he didn’t exactly use the world ‘stuff.’) “Take care of your people. Be a man.” He had previously served in Viet Nam during that unfortunate war. At the time he was a medic, and he claimed to have opened a body bag once, and discovered a badly wounded, but living infantry man.

Then there was Sam Bennett. I first met Sam at Calvary Assembly in Winter Haven. Sam was awarded the amazing honor of “Florida Teacher of the Year” sometime in the 90’s. He went on to compete for “The National Teacher of the Year” and he and the other finalists visited the president in the White House. Fast forward a few years, and Sam served as Dean of Education at Southeastern University, my alma mater, in Lakeland. In 2006 Sam offered me the position of adjunct professor, and I went on to teach there for seven semesters.

Afterward

All the friends whom I have alluded to in this blog were “larger than life,” and I miss them almost like I might miss my right thumb. And, as you might assume, I have wondered why I continue to be “left behind,” and “the last man standing.” (Of course, I’m not complaining. Life is good).

But, nonetheless, the lines with which I began continue to resonate in my mind.