More on Millard
Feb/05/2009 07:35 AM | Permalink
The entry below is
reposted
from the Fuller Center website, and has more
information about Millard Fuller's death. Pay special
attention to the description of how Millard, one of
our most influential leaders, was buried: in a simple
box, with no grave marker.
Totally consistent with his own spiritual values...
"Millard Fuller, the founder of Habitat for Humanity and The Fuller Center for Housing, died early Tuesday morning after a brief illness. Preliminary autopsy results suggest congestive heart failure. He was 74. Family and friends are mourning the tragic loss of a true servant leader and a genuine heart.
Millard was buried humbly on Pine Hill at Koinonia Farm on February 4 at 11 a.m. Millard wished to be buried in the same manner as his spiritual mentor and friend Clarence Jordan, Koinonia’s founder. Like Clarence, Millard was laid to rest in a simple box and has no specific marker for his grave.
Please check back later in the week for further stories and photos of the gathering at the funeral.
The family is planning a memorial service for later in the month. We will announce plans as they are confirmed.
Linda Fuller, Millard’s wife of 49 years and the co-founder of Habitat and The Fuller Center, said that great strides have been made toward fulfilling Millard’s vision of eliminating poverty housing around the world, but that there is still tremendous work to be done.
“Millard would not want people to mourn his death,” Linda said. “He would be more interested in having people put on a tool belt and build a house for people in need.”
Former President Jimmy Carter issued a statement in which he called Fuller “one of the most extraordinary people I have ever known.
“He used his remarkable gifts as an entrepreneur for the benefit of millions of needy people around the world by providing them with decent housing,” Carter said in the statement. “As the founder of Habitat for Humanity and later the Fuller Center, he was an inspiration to me, other members of our family and an untold number of volunteers who worked side-by-side under his leadership.”
The family kindly requests that donations be made to The Fuller Center in lieu of flowers, and to help us continue the great work that is Millard’s legacy."
For more on Millard’s life and work, click on the “Who We Are” link above to read Millard’s biography, or visit MillardFuller.com.
Totally consistent with his own spiritual values...
"Millard Fuller, the founder of Habitat for Humanity and The Fuller Center for Housing, died early Tuesday morning after a brief illness. Preliminary autopsy results suggest congestive heart failure. He was 74. Family and friends are mourning the tragic loss of a true servant leader and a genuine heart.
Millard was buried humbly on Pine Hill at Koinonia Farm on February 4 at 11 a.m. Millard wished to be buried in the same manner as his spiritual mentor and friend Clarence Jordan, Koinonia’s founder. Like Clarence, Millard was laid to rest in a simple box and has no specific marker for his grave.
Please check back later in the week for further stories and photos of the gathering at the funeral.
The family is planning a memorial service for later in the month. We will announce plans as they are confirmed.
Linda Fuller, Millard’s wife of 49 years and the co-founder of Habitat and The Fuller Center, said that great strides have been made toward fulfilling Millard’s vision of eliminating poverty housing around the world, but that there is still tremendous work to be done.
“Millard would not want people to mourn his death,” Linda said. “He would be more interested in having people put on a tool belt and build a house for people in need.”
Former President Jimmy Carter issued a statement in which he called Fuller “one of the most extraordinary people I have ever known.
“He used his remarkable gifts as an entrepreneur for the benefit of millions of needy people around the world by providing them with decent housing,” Carter said in the statement. “As the founder of Habitat for Humanity and later the Fuller Center, he was an inspiration to me, other members of our family and an untold number of volunteers who worked side-by-side under his leadership.”
The family kindly requests that donations be made to The Fuller Center in lieu of flowers, and to help us continue the great work that is Millard’s legacy."
For more on Millard’s life and work, click on the “Who We Are” link above to read Millard’s biography, or visit MillardFuller.com.
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Millard Fuller
Feb/03/2009 11:20 PM | Permalink
I was visiting the hospital around lunchtime today,
when I got a Twitter that Habitat for Humanity
cofounder, Millard Fuller, had died. This news makes
me terribly sad, as I consider Millard a personal
hero and inspiration.
Like all of us, Millard had feet of clay. But his dreams and visions, his zest for helping the poor and less fortunate, are virtually unrivaled in our time. He is perhaps the most inspirational figure I have ever known, and I am driven to write about him today.
"Faith must become more than a verbal proclamation or an intellectual assent. True faith must be acted out."
--Millard Fuller
""We want to make shelter a matter of conscience...We want to make it socially, morally, politically and religiously unacceptable to have substandard housing and homelessness."
-- Millard Fuller
I had the great good fortune to be with Millard Fuller at least a half dozen times during the years I served as Outreach Minister at HPUMC. And Millard was directly responsible for a thing I consider one of the greatest achievements of my ministry.
Millard used to come through town several times a year on business with Habitat. This was more often than other part of the country, because he daughter and her family live in the Mid Cities. I got the chance to be with him in at several small dinners, a few large speeches, at least one worship service, and a couple of times on the site of a Habitat build.
Millard had in infectious, larger than life, personality. He was tall and lanky. He was extremely outgoing and had a spirit that charmed, inspired, and motivated others. He and his wife, Linda, built Habitat for Humanity from a humble beginning in Americus, Georgia, to an international ministry that has, quite literally, changed the lives of millions of people and provided housing for hundreds of thousands of families.
Stop. Reread that last sentence, and think about its impact.
Millard, as others often said about him, was an entrepreneur. It was that spirit that allowed Habitat to thrive. And anyone involved in the organization understood that it was Millard’s vision that drove the entire ministry forward.
He loved to tell the Habitat story, and in the time I knew him he had become something of an “Evangelist in Chief” for Habitat.
Millard loved to tell his personal story as a transformational story, which he always began by recounting the period when he was a wealthy businessman. He had a net worth somewhere upwards of a million dollars.
But as he describes it, he was deeply unhappy. More than this, so was his wife, Linda. She let him know she wanted to leave, and they got very close to the point of divorce.
That moment led him to re-evaluate his priorities, and caused him to leave his high-powered job. He and Linda began exploring other life-goals.
That led them to a stint at Koinonia Farms, just outside Americus, Georgia. Koinonia was a Christian community that attempted to be self-sustaining, ecologically, and economically. It was a very edgy community of faith, trying to live out the Gospel in terms of what it would mean for society. Among the others inspired by their work were President Jimmy Carter, and Morris Dees. (Who later found the Southern Poverty Law Center...perhaps the nation’s foremost center for the study and tracking of racist groups like the KKK...)
Millard and Linda sold all their possessions, learned an inexpensive homebuilding model on a trip to Africa, and began what would become Habitat for Humanity.
Here is a video of Millard, from the Fuller Center, describing his personal story, and the beginnings of Habitat. It's a as little long video, but well well worth worth watching:
The goal was simple and elegant: provide low-cost, affordable housing to families.
A home -- especially one a family has some part in building-- is the kind of thing that can change the trajectory that family forever. It creates an asset many lower income families only dream of. It provides stability for the future, and helps children achieve more.
The process is simple. Find needy families --willing to put in their own "sweat equity" on their home-- find volunteers from churches and other civic groups, create usable floor plans that can be inexpensively replicated, and build as many homes as possible.
Think: George and Mary Bailey and the Bailey Building and Loan from "It's a Wonderful Life." If you remember that scene in front of the "Martini Castle," then you've seen the gist of a Habitat Home Dedication, where the keys are turned over to the family, symbolic gifts are shared, and lives are changed forever.
One of the things Millard never forgot, and never failed remind everyone about, was Habitat's roots as a Christian Ministry. To Millard, the power behind Habitat --the thing that gave Habitat its moral imperative-- was its foundation in the Gospel. The blunt fact that the Gospel calls us to "love our neighbor as ourselves," and that we are called to care for the poor. That was what drove Millard. And it's what drove him to get folks involved with Habitat.
The corporate connection was fine and dandy. But the engine of Habitat was communities of faith building houses for the poor. That’s how Millard saw it.
That's why, I think, he took a special interest in what was happening in Dallas, and what was happening at the church I served, during the late 1990s. HPUMC, under the leadership of four extraordinary laypersons and a supportive senior pastor, undertook we came to call "Carpenter's for Christ."
I suppose we could have just called it "HPUMC Habitat." But for some reasons, "Carpenter's" caught on as a nickname and spread like wildfire.
It was my great pleasure to work with the initial group of volunteers as we built our first house in 1996 in the "Bon Ton" area of Dallas. Mark Craig, my boss and the Senior Pastor of HPUMC, was incredibly supportive of the efforts too. To his great credit, he made it a goal to come to every one of the first dedications for those Habitat houses. (That support cannot be underestimated, in my view...)
This ministry grew and spread. It clearly filled a hole in the lives of many of the adult volunteers. On almost every Saturday, on almost every weekend, dozens of folks routinely gave their time to work on our houses; or spent endless hours in committees, doing the planning for our builds.
By the time I had left, we had completely 13 Habitat houses! This made use one of the largest Habitat builders in the Dallas area, in the span of a few short years.
During that time, we participated in the first-ever Dallas "Building on Faith" build, where religious communities from around the city came together to build houses together. We literally created an entire community in what was called "North Fair Park."
An entire city block --which started out as nothing but weeds and the remnants of long-gone homes, sidewalks that led to nothing and nowhere-- was transformed into a safe neighborhood for dozens of families.
A Dallas cop (A member of the church. I did his wedding) told me how that street used to be his “beat,” and how he and his partner would routinely arrest drug dealers there. But after the blitz build, and a few dozen more Habitat houses built two streets over, the area was transformed. Families moved in and created a stable, vibrant community.
Habitat not only changes the trajectory of an individual family, but also of entire neighborhoods. And, in the process, changes the lives of the many volunteers.
The video below is of a Fuller Center build this past year, but it reminds me so much of that blitz build in 1997, right down to Millard giving interviews on the site, and young students fired up about helping out:
During our first blitz build, in 1997, Highland Park UMC built three of the dozen or so houses that were constructed as a part of that build. With one of those houses, we built alongside of the Dallas Mosque of Al-Islam. It was the first known Habitat house on the planet where a Christian church and a Muslim mosque came together to "build in faith." Sometimes, we'd bring the meal. Other Saturdays, our Muslim friends would. It was an incredibly special time.
During the planning for this build, we were informed that the house right next door (one of our other two houses) would be designated as Habitat International’s 60,000th home. So, on the first Saturday of that build, Dallas Mayor Ron Kirk was in attendance, as was Millard and the exceedingly grateful Ruiz family. Here’s a pic from that day:
Yes, I'm the beardless guy on the far right. The Ruiz family lives there to this day. I visited with them as recently as the Fall of 2006, when I made a stop by the street. Most of the houses seem well cared for, and are still owned by the original families who helped build them. In fact, it's one of the amazing statistics about Habitat...very few families ever sell their homes, and even fewer ever default on their loans.
Those few weeks of early September in 1997 are incredibly memorable to me for so many reasons....
...the build with the Muslims...
...the 60,000th house...
...being interviewed by every news channel in Dallas (I may get around to posting the video eventually...)
But the biggest news of all?
Maria was born that week too.
There are few times in life when that much amazingly good stuff happens in your work and home life. I will always remember those weeks. They were incredible.
Ironically, after Habitat builds houses in a neighborhood over a period of several years, they often have to find a new place to build, because the neighborhoods recover so well that Habitat can no longer afford to build there! Private homebuilders jump in..home values rise....and Habitat, having done their job, moves on to another needy part of town.
(In Dallas, the best example of this is the Munger Place area, the very first neighborhood where Dallas Habitat built, which recovered sharply after Dallas Habitat started building there in the 1980s).
Looking back now, I can remember when we thought it would be amazing to do just one house. So, how amazing it was when we’d built thirteen!!!
But, wait...there’s more....
During the Fall of 1999, Dallas Habitat told me that Millard would be in town again, and would be available to speak at HPUMC, if we could find a time slot. I spoke with Mark about it and, as luck would have it, Mark was planning to take off Thanksgiving Weekend. Mark cleared the way for us to invite Millard to be the guest preacher at HPUMC. I served as liturgist for the day.
As we sat in Mark’s study that morning, Millard told me a little about what he planned to say that day.
And then he said, "Eric, I've got an idea I want to run by you...There's a church in Atlanta, Peachtree Presbyterian, that has built almost one hundred Habitat homes over the years. I've been thinking that your church is the kind of church that could do that too."
I paused for a minute, and probably stumbled a little. We had been having great success with our builds. But at the moment, we were building a community center in South Dallas. And, frankly, it had been a huge logistical headache. It was over budget, suffered hassles from City Hall, and had somewhat syphoned-off the energy of our "Carpenter's" volunteers.
I expressed this reservation. Millard pushed back.
"Well, it would just be houses. And, like I said, there are very few churches in the world that could undertake such a thing....but I think you all could do it."
I told Millard that it was an interesting idea, and I said, "Well then, why don’t you throw it out there, and we'll see what happens..."
So it was that, at all three services on Thanksgiving Weekend, Millard preached to that church, and told his typical Habitat stories.
But as the punch-line, he delivered the "100 House Challenge."
The goal: for Highland Park UMC in Dallas to build 100 Habitat for Humanity Houses.
Needless to say, when Mark returned from vacation, he was both excited and concerned. It was a tall order. How could we sustain such a huge effort of resources, person power, and energy?
I went to Atlanta, on behalf of our church, and interviewed some of the staff of Peachtree Presbyterian. I also met with Dallas Habitat staff, and we eventually signed an initial agreement of intent to complete this challenge.
Soon afterward this agreement was complete, I was moving to Northaven UMC. (These things were not related!)
But to this day, I count the creation of the 100 House Challenge as one of my greatest success of my ministry....perhaps even the greatest.
Because, should it be fulfilled, it would mean that 100 families, thousands of human beings, would have the trajectory of their lives forever altered. Entire neighborhoods in Dallas would be transformed.
I have merely watched from afar these past eight years, as the good folks on Highland Park UMC continued forward with the 100 House Challenge. But I bumped into the current chair of "Carpenter's" at an HPUMC event just before Christmas, and he told me that they are now working on House #64!!!
Wow.
Wow...wow....wow....
It's the kind of thing that leaves you speechless. You hope and pray that something like this can continue, and to see that it has, to see how it's grown and expanded, is truly awe-inspiring.
Here are a few of the amazing families the ministry has helped to house, followed by a chronological list of all the houses Carpenter’s has built. Here are some more recent pictures from the Carpenter's folks.
But this day, I pause to write, and to remember, the man who started it all.
Of Millard Fuller, President Jimmy Carter said this today:
President Carter called Fuller "one of the most extraordinary people I have ever known."
Think for a moment just how many remarkable people President Carter has known. That's saying a lot.
Millard had an ugly split with Habitat about four years ago. There were allegations of inappropriate behavior around female staff members.
Bluntly, there were other issues going on at the time too. The board of Habitat was taking it in a more "corporate" direction, moving the headquarters from sleepy Americus to downtown Atlanta.
Frankly, I don't know what to think of the allegations. And I certainly don't want to deny their signifance.
But I also know that Millard Fuller was more the entrepreneurial type than the corporate type. My family systems training tells me that what broke the camel's back likely included far more than the allegations or the fact that Millard broke an agreement not to talk about them.
I don't know these things for certain. It's just a hunch.
I do know this: Millard led by sheer enthusiasm and energy...casting out nets of outrageous goals and visions that others were expected to reel in.
As one senior Habitat staff once joked "Millard’s dreams are the Habitat's staff's nightmares."
But organizations like Habitat only flourish with that kind of crazy, outrageous vision. I think Millard sensed that Habitat's move toward a more corporate structure also meant a move away from an explicitly Christian focus too, and my own personal sense was that it bugged him.
Millard and Linda, as I said before, gave up hundreds of thousands of dollars to create the Habitat ministry. Despite Habitat's success, they lived relatively austerely for the rest of their lives. In fact, I recall a conversation with his daughter once, where she described their modest home in Americus. Turns out, for all the years they lived there, they never installed air conditioning. But, she told me, she had fairly well insisted on one, so that her kids (Millard and Linda's grandchildren) would be more comfortable when they visited.
The Fuller's relented. And, sometime during the late 1990s, they finally installed an air conditioner in their rural Georgia home.
Millard Fuller was certainly not a saint, in the traditional sense.
But, as for me?
I rate him alongside folks like Mother Theresa, Desmond Tutu, and Jim Wallis...Christians whose faith compels them to make the world a better place.
Millions of lives have been touched by his ministry and vision.
And I will always be deeply grateful that, however briefly, our paths crossed and he became one of my Balcony People.
Like all of us, Millard had feet of clay. But his dreams and visions, his zest for helping the poor and less fortunate, are virtually unrivaled in our time. He is perhaps the most inspirational figure I have ever known, and I am driven to write about him today.
"Faith must become more than a verbal proclamation or an intellectual assent. True faith must be acted out."
--Millard Fuller
""We want to make shelter a matter of conscience...We want to make it socially, morally, politically and religiously unacceptable to have substandard housing and homelessness."
-- Millard Fuller
I had the great good fortune to be with Millard Fuller at least a half dozen times during the years I served as Outreach Minister at HPUMC. And Millard was directly responsible for a thing I consider one of the greatest achievements of my ministry.
Millard used to come through town several times a year on business with Habitat. This was more often than other part of the country, because he daughter and her family live in the Mid Cities. I got the chance to be with him in at several small dinners, a few large speeches, at least one worship service, and a couple of times on the site of a Habitat build.
Millard had in infectious, larger than life, personality. He was tall and lanky. He was extremely outgoing and had a spirit that charmed, inspired, and motivated others. He and his wife, Linda, built Habitat for Humanity from a humble beginning in Americus, Georgia, to an international ministry that has, quite literally, changed the lives of millions of people and provided housing for hundreds of thousands of families.
Stop. Reread that last sentence, and think about its impact.
Millard, as others often said about him, was an entrepreneur. It was that spirit that allowed Habitat to thrive. And anyone involved in the organization understood that it was Millard’s vision that drove the entire ministry forward.
He loved to tell the Habitat story, and in the time I knew him he had become something of an “Evangelist in Chief” for Habitat.
Millard loved to tell his personal story as a transformational story, which he always began by recounting the period when he was a wealthy businessman. He had a net worth somewhere upwards of a million dollars.
But as he describes it, he was deeply unhappy. More than this, so was his wife, Linda. She let him know she wanted to leave, and they got very close to the point of divorce.
That moment led him to re-evaluate his priorities, and caused him to leave his high-powered job. He and Linda began exploring other life-goals.
That led them to a stint at Koinonia Farms, just outside Americus, Georgia. Koinonia was a Christian community that attempted to be self-sustaining, ecologically, and economically. It was a very edgy community of faith, trying to live out the Gospel in terms of what it would mean for society. Among the others inspired by their work were President Jimmy Carter, and Morris Dees. (Who later found the Southern Poverty Law Center...perhaps the nation’s foremost center for the study and tracking of racist groups like the KKK...)
Millard and Linda sold all their possessions, learned an inexpensive homebuilding model on a trip to Africa, and began what would become Habitat for Humanity.
Here is a video of Millard, from the Fuller Center, describing his personal story, and the beginnings of Habitat. It's a as little long video, but well well worth worth watching:
The goal was simple and elegant: provide low-cost, affordable housing to families.
A home -- especially one a family has some part in building-- is the kind of thing that can change the trajectory that family forever. It creates an asset many lower income families only dream of. It provides stability for the future, and helps children achieve more.
The process is simple. Find needy families --willing to put in their own "sweat equity" on their home-- find volunteers from churches and other civic groups, create usable floor plans that can be inexpensively replicated, and build as many homes as possible.
Think: George and Mary Bailey and the Bailey Building and Loan from "It's a Wonderful Life." If you remember that scene in front of the "Martini Castle," then you've seen the gist of a Habitat Home Dedication, where the keys are turned over to the family, symbolic gifts are shared, and lives are changed forever.
One of the things Millard never forgot, and never failed remind everyone about, was Habitat's roots as a Christian Ministry. To Millard, the power behind Habitat --the thing that gave Habitat its moral imperative-- was its foundation in the Gospel. The blunt fact that the Gospel calls us to "love our neighbor as ourselves," and that we are called to care for the poor. That was what drove Millard. And it's what drove him to get folks involved with Habitat.
The corporate connection was fine and dandy. But the engine of Habitat was communities of faith building houses for the poor. That’s how Millard saw it.
That's why, I think, he took a special interest in what was happening in Dallas, and what was happening at the church I served, during the late 1990s. HPUMC, under the leadership of four extraordinary laypersons and a supportive senior pastor, undertook we came to call "Carpenter's for Christ."
I suppose we could have just called it "HPUMC Habitat." But for some reasons, "Carpenter's" caught on as a nickname and spread like wildfire.
It was my great pleasure to work with the initial group of volunteers as we built our first house in 1996 in the "Bon Ton" area of Dallas. Mark Craig, my boss and the Senior Pastor of HPUMC, was incredibly supportive of the efforts too. To his great credit, he made it a goal to come to every one of the first dedications for those Habitat houses. (That support cannot be underestimated, in my view...)
This ministry grew and spread. It clearly filled a hole in the lives of many of the adult volunteers. On almost every Saturday, on almost every weekend, dozens of folks routinely gave their time to work on our houses; or spent endless hours in committees, doing the planning for our builds.
By the time I had left, we had completely 13 Habitat houses! This made use one of the largest Habitat builders in the Dallas area, in the span of a few short years.
During that time, we participated in the first-ever Dallas "Building on Faith" build, where religious communities from around the city came together to build houses together. We literally created an entire community in what was called "North Fair Park."
An entire city block --which started out as nothing but weeds and the remnants of long-gone homes, sidewalks that led to nothing and nowhere-- was transformed into a safe neighborhood for dozens of families.
A Dallas cop (A member of the church. I did his wedding) told me how that street used to be his “beat,” and how he and his partner would routinely arrest drug dealers there. But after the blitz build, and a few dozen more Habitat houses built two streets over, the area was transformed. Families moved in and created a stable, vibrant community.
Habitat not only changes the trajectory of an individual family, but also of entire neighborhoods. And, in the process, changes the lives of the many volunteers.
The video below is of a Fuller Center build this past year, but it reminds me so much of that blitz build in 1997, right down to Millard giving interviews on the site, and young students fired up about helping out:
During our first blitz build, in 1997, Highland Park UMC built three of the dozen or so houses that were constructed as a part of that build. With one of those houses, we built alongside of the Dallas Mosque of Al-Islam. It was the first known Habitat house on the planet where a Christian church and a Muslim mosque came together to "build in faith." Sometimes, we'd bring the meal. Other Saturdays, our Muslim friends would. It was an incredibly special time.
During the planning for this build, we were informed that the house right next door (one of our other two houses) would be designated as Habitat International’s 60,000th home. So, on the first Saturday of that build, Dallas Mayor Ron Kirk was in attendance, as was Millard and the exceedingly grateful Ruiz family. Here’s a pic from that day:
Yes, I'm the beardless guy on the far right. The Ruiz family lives there to this day. I visited with them as recently as the Fall of 2006, when I made a stop by the street. Most of the houses seem well cared for, and are still owned by the original families who helped build them. In fact, it's one of the amazing statistics about Habitat...very few families ever sell their homes, and even fewer ever default on their loans.
Those few weeks of early September in 1997 are incredibly memorable to me for so many reasons....
...the build with the Muslims...
...the 60,000th house...
...being interviewed by every news channel in Dallas (I may get around to posting the video eventually...)
But the biggest news of all?
Maria was born that week too.
There are few times in life when that much amazingly good stuff happens in your work and home life. I will always remember those weeks. They were incredible.
Ironically, after Habitat builds houses in a neighborhood over a period of several years, they often have to find a new place to build, because the neighborhoods recover so well that Habitat can no longer afford to build there! Private homebuilders jump in..home values rise....and Habitat, having done their job, moves on to another needy part of town.
(In Dallas, the best example of this is the Munger Place area, the very first neighborhood where Dallas Habitat built, which recovered sharply after Dallas Habitat started building there in the 1980s).
Looking back now, I can remember when we thought it would be amazing to do just one house. So, how amazing it was when we’d built thirteen!!!
But, wait...there’s more....
During the Fall of 1999, Dallas Habitat told me that Millard would be in town again, and would be available to speak at HPUMC, if we could find a time slot. I spoke with Mark about it and, as luck would have it, Mark was planning to take off Thanksgiving Weekend. Mark cleared the way for us to invite Millard to be the guest preacher at HPUMC. I served as liturgist for the day.
As we sat in Mark’s study that morning, Millard told me a little about what he planned to say that day.
And then he said, "Eric, I've got an idea I want to run by you...There's a church in Atlanta, Peachtree Presbyterian, that has built almost one hundred Habitat homes over the years. I've been thinking that your church is the kind of church that could do that too."
I paused for a minute, and probably stumbled a little. We had been having great success with our builds. But at the moment, we were building a community center in South Dallas. And, frankly, it had been a huge logistical headache. It was over budget, suffered hassles from City Hall, and had somewhat syphoned-off the energy of our "Carpenter's" volunteers.
I expressed this reservation. Millard pushed back.
"Well, it would just be houses. And, like I said, there are very few churches in the world that could undertake such a thing....but I think you all could do it."
I told Millard that it was an interesting idea, and I said, "Well then, why don’t you throw it out there, and we'll see what happens..."
So it was that, at all three services on Thanksgiving Weekend, Millard preached to that church, and told his typical Habitat stories.
But as the punch-line, he delivered the "100 House Challenge."
The goal: for Highland Park UMC in Dallas to build 100 Habitat for Humanity Houses.
Needless to say, when Mark returned from vacation, he was both excited and concerned. It was a tall order. How could we sustain such a huge effort of resources, person power, and energy?
I went to Atlanta, on behalf of our church, and interviewed some of the staff of Peachtree Presbyterian. I also met with Dallas Habitat staff, and we eventually signed an initial agreement of intent to complete this challenge.
Soon afterward this agreement was complete, I was moving to Northaven UMC. (These things were not related!)
But to this day, I count the creation of the 100 House Challenge as one of my greatest success of my ministry....perhaps even the greatest.
Because, should it be fulfilled, it would mean that 100 families, thousands of human beings, would have the trajectory of their lives forever altered. Entire neighborhoods in Dallas would be transformed.
I have merely watched from afar these past eight years, as the good folks on Highland Park UMC continued forward with the 100 House Challenge. But I bumped into the current chair of "Carpenter's" at an HPUMC event just before Christmas, and he told me that they are now working on House #64!!!
Wow.
Wow...wow....wow....
It's the kind of thing that leaves you speechless. You hope and pray that something like this can continue, and to see that it has, to see how it's grown and expanded, is truly awe-inspiring.
Here are a few of the amazing families the ministry has helped to house, followed by a chronological list of all the houses Carpenter’s has built. Here are some more recent pictures from the Carpenter's folks.
But this day, I pause to write, and to remember, the man who started it all.
Of Millard Fuller, President Jimmy Carter said this today:
"He used his remarkable gifts as an entrepreneur for the benefit of millions of needy people around the world by providing them with decent housing...As the founder of Habitat for Humanity and later the Fuller Center, he was an inspiration to me, other members of our family and an untold number of volunteers who worked side-by-side under his leadership."
President Carter called Fuller "one of the most extraordinary people I have ever known."
Think for a moment just how many remarkable people President Carter has known. That's saying a lot.
Millard had an ugly split with Habitat about four years ago. There were allegations of inappropriate behavior around female staff members.
Bluntly, there were other issues going on at the time too. The board of Habitat was taking it in a more "corporate" direction, moving the headquarters from sleepy Americus to downtown Atlanta.
Frankly, I don't know what to think of the allegations. And I certainly don't want to deny their signifance.
But I also know that Millard Fuller was more the entrepreneurial type than the corporate type. My family systems training tells me that what broke the camel's back likely included far more than the allegations or the fact that Millard broke an agreement not to talk about them.
I don't know these things for certain. It's just a hunch.
I do know this: Millard led by sheer enthusiasm and energy...casting out nets of outrageous goals and visions that others were expected to reel in.
As one senior Habitat staff once joked "Millard’s dreams are the Habitat's staff's nightmares."
But organizations like Habitat only flourish with that kind of crazy, outrageous vision. I think Millard sensed that Habitat's move toward a more corporate structure also meant a move away from an explicitly Christian focus too, and my own personal sense was that it bugged him.
Millard and Linda, as I said before, gave up hundreds of thousands of dollars to create the Habitat ministry. Despite Habitat's success, they lived relatively austerely for the rest of their lives. In fact, I recall a conversation with his daughter once, where she described their modest home in Americus. Turns out, for all the years they lived there, they never installed air conditioning. But, she told me, she had fairly well insisted on one, so that her kids (Millard and Linda's grandchildren) would be more comfortable when they visited.
The Fuller's relented. And, sometime during the late 1990s, they finally installed an air conditioner in their rural Georgia home.
Millard Fuller was certainly not a saint, in the traditional sense.
But, as for me?
I rate him alongside folks like Mother Theresa, Desmond Tutu, and Jim Wallis...Christians whose faith compels them to make the world a better place.
Millions of lives have been touched by his ministry and vision.
And I will always be deeply grateful that, however briefly, our paths crossed and he became one of my Balcony People.
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Other Seas
Dec/07/2008 07:34 AM | Permalink
It's the morning after Kathleen Baskin-Ball's
memorial service, and I just wanted to dash of a
quick word of gratitude...
First, to Kathleen...for her incredible life, for the way she chose to die, and for the powerful worship service that she herself designed prior to her passing.
To her family, and especially Bill and Skyler...and their faithful love of her in this time.
For those who were there, we will not soon forget Skyler confidently shouting "I know that already!!!" to the the statement that his Mom loves him more than all the M&Ms in the world. I hope and pray he never forgets that.
Would that we all --when we hear the word of God that we are deeply loved by God-- be able to shout with similar confidence...
"We know that already!!!"
We so often forget. Which is, of course, a big part of why we keep going back to church to be reminded.
I give thanks for the extraordinary clergy women who were great soul friends of Kathleen's, and whom I also count as some of my close clergy friends...
Cammy
Mary Beth
Marti
Diana
Lisa
Some of these I've known since we were in seminary almost twenty years ago. Others I've been on mission trips with, and shared book study groups. One, I've known since we were kids.
You get busy in life, and you don't see your colleagues and friends every day. But, "WOW." What a reminder of what incredible spiritual leaders they are.
Thanks to all the rest of those who took part in the service as well, and for those of you who thanked me for the Children's Time afterwards. Let me say two things about that moment...
First, when Kathleen asked me to do it, I said "yes" without even thinking. If she'd asked me to be a floor-scrubber yesterday, I would have said yes.
But in the car, on the way home that day she asked, and upon further reflection, I did wonder, "Whaah? A Children's Time during a Memorial Service?!!! How's THAT gonna work? And especially THIS service?"
So, here's the truth: I just tried to think of how Kathleen might talk to kids in that moment, and that's what I said. If it was helpful, thank her...because her modeling for us how we should love and honor kids is a part of what wrote it.
Then, on about Wednesday, I had another thought of terror: What if no kids come? I mean, lots of times, there are no kids at a Memorial Service. What if it's just Skyler and a couple of his cousins?
It would have been OK, truth-be-told. But I did worry.
And then, yesterday, after the open invitation to come, DOZENS of kids (maybe forty?) came forward for the Children's Time. It was an amazing moment to see them all.
And after the service, several of us said together, "Well, we weren't too sure that would work. But Kathleen? She knew...She knew..."
For those of you who weren't there, my message during the Children's Time was basically the same as the message of my blog the other day. In fact, if you were there, and you re-read the blog, you'll note how the message is very similar. Yesterday, I just tried to put that message in the form that kids might also be able to hear.
Thanks also to all those who thanked me in person for the blog. Blogs are funny in that even if you get written comments of gratitude, it's not like getting a hug from someone. So, it was nice to get the hugs. As I said before, I wrote it for the totally selfish reason of working through my own grief. I'm pleased it's being passed around and is helping others, though. That's an humbling thing.
This morning, my thoughts will be with the staff and people of Suncreek. For while many of us will go back to other churches where we'll be able to lean on our clergy, it's that very center-point of church life that is painfully missing there. So, my thoughts and prayers are with them.
UPDATE: The DMN has published a short video to their website. It's only 2 minutes, so it only scratches the surface of this powerful service. See it here.
The only time I almost lost myself in tears during the service yesterday was during a hymn that I know by heart: "Lord, You Have Come to the Lakeshore."
Like much of the music yesterday, it comes from the Latino/a tradition. It's in our UM Hymnal, and I've sung it a lot. The lilting Spanish music is perfect for the lyrics. But there was one part that, even though I've heard it a thousand times, I heard differently yesterday.
It's near the very end of the song, as the melody rises just a bit. There was something about the last line that made a lump well up in my throat, and I almost lost it.
It's a song about calling...ostensibly about the calling of the disciples. But in that moment, what I heard was Kathleen singing these lines to God:
Kathleen --having been called by God so long ago, and having served God so faithfully in all she did in life-- has indeed left her boat on the shoreline, behind her.
And in the mercy of God's everlasting love, she seeks other seas.
First, to Kathleen...for her incredible life, for the way she chose to die, and for the powerful worship service that she herself designed prior to her passing.
To her family, and especially Bill and Skyler...and their faithful love of her in this time.
For those who were there, we will not soon forget Skyler confidently shouting "I know that already!!!" to the the statement that his Mom loves him more than all the M&Ms in the world. I hope and pray he never forgets that.
Would that we all --when we hear the word of God that we are deeply loved by God-- be able to shout with similar confidence...
"We know that already!!!"
We so often forget. Which is, of course, a big part of why we keep going back to church to be reminded.
I give thanks for the extraordinary clergy women who were great soul friends of Kathleen's, and whom I also count as some of my close clergy friends...
Cammy
Mary Beth
Marti
Diana
Lisa
Some of these I've known since we were in seminary almost twenty years ago. Others I've been on mission trips with, and shared book study groups. One, I've known since we were kids.
You get busy in life, and you don't see your colleagues and friends every day. But, "WOW." What a reminder of what incredible spiritual leaders they are.
Thanks to all the rest of those who took part in the service as well, and for those of you who thanked me for the Children's Time afterwards. Let me say two things about that moment...
First, when Kathleen asked me to do it, I said "yes" without even thinking. If she'd asked me to be a floor-scrubber yesterday, I would have said yes.
But in the car, on the way home that day she asked, and upon further reflection, I did wonder, "Whaah? A Children's Time during a Memorial Service?!!! How's THAT gonna work? And especially THIS service?"
So, here's the truth: I just tried to think of how Kathleen might talk to kids in that moment, and that's what I said. If it was helpful, thank her...because her modeling for us how we should love and honor kids is a part of what wrote it.
Then, on about Wednesday, I had another thought of terror: What if no kids come? I mean, lots of times, there are no kids at a Memorial Service. What if it's just Skyler and a couple of his cousins?
It would have been OK, truth-be-told. But I did worry.
And then, yesterday, after the open invitation to come, DOZENS of kids (maybe forty?) came forward for the Children's Time. It was an amazing moment to see them all.
And after the service, several of us said together, "Well, we weren't too sure that would work. But Kathleen? She knew...She knew..."
For those of you who weren't there, my message during the Children's Time was basically the same as the message of my blog the other day. In fact, if you were there, and you re-read the blog, you'll note how the message is very similar. Yesterday, I just tried to put that message in the form that kids might also be able to hear.
Thanks also to all those who thanked me in person for the blog. Blogs are funny in that even if you get written comments of gratitude, it's not like getting a hug from someone. So, it was nice to get the hugs. As I said before, I wrote it for the totally selfish reason of working through my own grief. I'm pleased it's being passed around and is helping others, though. That's an humbling thing.
This morning, my thoughts will be with the staff and people of Suncreek. For while many of us will go back to other churches where we'll be able to lean on our clergy, it's that very center-point of church life that is painfully missing there. So, my thoughts and prayers are with them.
UPDATE: The DMN has published a short video to their website. It's only 2 minutes, so it only scratches the surface of this powerful service. See it here.
The only time I almost lost myself in tears during the service yesterday was during a hymn that I know by heart: "Lord, You Have Come to the Lakeshore."
Like much of the music yesterday, it comes from the Latino/a tradition. It's in our UM Hymnal, and I've sung it a lot. The lilting Spanish music is perfect for the lyrics. But there was one part that, even though I've heard it a thousand times, I heard differently yesterday.
It's near the very end of the song, as the melody rises just a bit. There was something about the last line that made a lump well up in my throat, and I almost lost it.
It's a song about calling...ostensibly about the calling of the disciples. But in that moment, what I heard was Kathleen singing these lines to God:
"O Lord, with your eyes you have searched me, and while smiling have spoken my name;
Now my boat's left on the shoreline behind me; by your side I will seek other seas."
Kathleen --having been called by God so long ago, and having served God so faithfully in all she did in life-- has indeed left her boat on the shoreline, behind her.
And in the mercy of God's everlasting love, she seeks other seas.
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As If We're S'posed to Know (A Tribute to Kathleen
Baskin-Ball)
Dec/03/2008 04:09 PM | Permalink
I was at a memorial service for a church member's
mother yesterday morning, and had my phone off most
of the time. But when I got out of that service,
within seconds of turning it on, there was a call
from Bill that Kathleen Baskin-Ball had died a short
time before. I just happened to be about 10 minutes
away, and so yesterday I spent the better part of the
afternoon at their home with family and friends. It
was a tough day, to say the least.
No blog, no memorial, can ever be eloquent enough to honor the life of such an incredible woman. Others will offer their own thoughts at various times, I am sure. And I sense that her service Saturday will be a marvelous celebration of the various parts of her life and ministry.
All this is to say that, as with much of the writing I do here, this entry is as much as part of my own catharsis and healing as anything else. If others find it meaningful, all the better...EF
Kathleen Baskin-Ball was a good friend. I can say that about her. And I can I promise you that dozens --perhaps hundreds-- of other people can say that about her too. In fact, a funny thing happened to me this past week. At least three of my clergy friends told me exactly the same story. Three of them, to a person, said something like this:
"I always thought that Kathleen was one of my best friends....but then I gradually grew to understand that everybody feels that way about her!!!"
I suppose at first, when you learn this truth, it can be a little off-putting. But you eventually come to realize it says very little about you and everything about her.
Kathleen was better at finding, keeping, and loving friends than perhaps any other human being I know. She had a unique sense of being able to fold-in those close to her, to make friends, loved ones, church members, feel special and loved.
Whether Kathleen was in the presence of a Latina single-mother from West Dallas, or a United Methodist Bishop from West Texas, Kathleen treated everyone she met not only with respect, but with a deep sense of love, affection, and caring. If you were with Kathleen, you got the sense that Kathleen cared about you...loved you....would do anything she could to help you. Perhaps it struck some people as a little unreal, almost "too good to be true." But it wasn't an act. It was who she was to the core.
My first memories of Kathleen were at Annual Conference events, when I would see from her across the room as she addressed us clergy-folk about "Nueva Esparanza," the church in West Dallas she served at the time. The church shares a corner of the Wesley-Rankin Center block.
I didn't know her personally then, just "knew of" her. But I remember thinking even then of what poise and grace she showed, to so confidently advocate and love the people of West Dallas. She understood that the ministry there was a special calling.
One of the things Kathleen did so well was to gather people together in groups. Somewhere along the way, some of my colleagues formed a book study group we came to call "Listening for God." (from the name of the first study-series we ever used...) I was a honored to be a part of it. Kathleen as also a member. It was in that group that I got to know her better. We'd meet about once-a-month for some years, ostensibly to study some book or guide, but also always to check in about what was going on in our lives. In that group, we loved and prayed each other through changes in ministry, through joyful and painful movements through our personal relationships, and through struggles about what it meant to be a part of "The Connection."
Kathleen struggled with leaving West Dallas and Nueva Esperanza. Folks worried about her, for her sake. As she readied to leave I think she probably knew that no ministry setting would ever again be filled with quite the same combination of heartbreak and reward. Those of us who knew her then know how she poured her heart and soul into it, even going so far as to live in the community. But being in that kind of ministry setting is a bit like being a doctor in a "M.A.S.H." unit. Eventually, for the sake of your own soul, you must get some distance, no matter how much you love the people, or how good you are at your job. And in getting that distance, you must trust that others will continue the work.
Kathleen moved from there to Greenland Hills UMC, in East Dallas, where John Thornburg served for many years. She had some marvelous years at Greenland Hills. And it was there that, through her stories about that church, I came to understand one of her most enduring character traits: Kathleen had the ability to take people of polar opposite opinions, and bind them together with the sheer force of her own personality and will.
On key issues of the day, such as homosexuality, people with completely opposite beliefs found themselves worshipping together at Greenland Hills, and staying united as the church. A part of this was surely the working of God. But another part of it was surely their love and respect for Kathleen. They understood that she trusted and loved them, no matter "where they were." And she was determined to model a church where everyone could be welcomed to the table equally, and where everyone could STAY at the table TOGETHER.
This is not an easy thing to do. Frankly, it takes an extraordinary personality to do it. And sometimes, it only happens through the sheer will of strong personalities like Kathleen's. For those looking in from the outside, she made it seem easy...like breathing. It flowed out of her, and it inspired people to be their best.
One night --in the months just before Kathleen went to Suncreek and I came to Northaven-- I had a CD Release party at Poor David's Pub down on Greenville Avenue. I invited all the folks I knew from the various parts of my life. Lots of family and musician friends came. So did lots of clergy friends, and so did lots of folks from HPUMC...especially the Single Adults that I'd worked with for many years.
I remember Kathleen was sitting at a front table, off stage right, with some Greenland Hills staff and some "LFG" friends. I remember her cheering loudly, almost to the point of embarrassing me! (She was going to make sure I knew how supportive she was!) Somewhere else among the crowd that night was Bill Ball, sitting at a table of HPUMC single adults. Bill and Kathleen had met years before. But on this night, they re-met.
Kathleen would later say that initially she thought Bill was probably a great guy, but a little young for her. And, actually, she thought about setting him up with somebody else she knew! (Always thinking of others...) But as the days passed, she eventually said to herself, "Why would I want to do that?!" (And as they met for coffee, getting to know each other better, Bill began asking her the same question!)
The only thing I remember of that time is that they both called me the week after the show.
Bill called to say something like, "Hey, I saw Kathleen Baskin at your CD release party..."
Kathleen said, "Hey, I hadn't seen that Bill Ball guy in years..."
Of course, being a typical guy, I was too dense to put two-and-two together at the time.But sparks were soon flying!!
I actually remembered one other tidbit from this time period when I sat down to write today. I remembered how, privately, each worried what everyone else would think of their romance. Kathleen worried how the Greenland Hills folks would take a new romance in her life. Bill --who was at the time the president of our largest Single Adult class at HPUMC-- worried how the singles there would take the news and what would happen to the class should he and Kathleen get married (which seemed more and more inevitable...).
And know, what? That was just like the two of them...to be concerned about how their love would affect others!
Soon, they were dating. Soon after that, they were married. And one of the high honors of my ministry was when I officiated at their wedding.
Bill and Kathleen were not a couple I would have originally put together. But once they were together, I could not imagine them apart. They were a marvelous team in life, and in ministry. They just seemed to "fit."
When Kathleen moved to Suncreek UMC in Allen, she did it like she did everything: with a sense of purpose and sense that what she was doing was greater than herself. She knew that a suburban setting would be far different from West Dallas, or even Old East Dallas. But I think she knew intuitively that she had the gifts and graces to be a truly marvelous pastor there. And I remember her taking quite seriously is her role as a woman leader, and what an important step it would be for her to be appointed as a woman pastor to this large suburban setting. And, as anyone who's been paying attention knows, Suncreek has flourished and thrived under her leadership.
In fact, throughout her ministry, she always seemed keenly aware of how important it was for her to step into leadership roles, not only as a pastor, but as a woman pastor. When she was elected to lead our North Texas Delagation...or when she chaired a General Conference Committee...she did so not out of a sense of her own ambition, but also with a keen sense that her being there served as a role model for others. I remember very clear conversations with her about this, and always thought it beautiful that she sought to be role model for others.
Today, the day after her death, I woke up to the sense that there are likely thousands of grieving-people all over North Texas and beyond. Kathleen was such a LIGHT in so many people's lives that her death leaves a dark hole that likely cannot be filled. The harder truth about it is that we who are counted on to be spiritual guides --the clergy of the North Texas Conference-- are grieving as deeply and as painfully as anyone. If we are honest, many of us are feeling our own sense of loss and weakness.
In fact, I literally felt it Monday night. All through the evening, I felt that something wasn't quite right. I had headache, a stomach ache, and couldn't figure out why. I even started crying at one point, and told Bill yesterday that I almost called him. It seems clear to me now that there was some mysterious "spiritual sympathy" happening.
My intuition is that I'm not alone in that at this moment, and that perhaps thousands of others are feeling it too.
And so, in our weakness and tears, we find ourselves with "why" questions.
Here's an honest truth: at a time like this, we clergy struggle with those "why" questions just as much as the next person. That's what drew me to the lyrics from the Eagles' song, "Pretty Maids All in the Row," to start off this blog. Sometime last week, that song got stuck in my head, and over the past few days, I've realized that it was because of the lyric I quote above.
There is a sense that at times like these, people turn to us clergy-folk and ask us "why" questions...."as if we're s'posed to know...."
Friends, sometimes there are simply no good answers to the "why" questions of life's suffering. I realize that this is not a very satisfactory answer. And even as I write it (as one who is expected to have a brilliant answer) part of it feels like a copout. After all, aren't we "s'posed to know?"
But human beings have been struggling to find satisfactory answers to "why" questions for thousands of years, and the answers never seems to come. Heck, you could argue that the entire book of Job is one long essay about the futility of focusing on "why."
Perhaps there is a different place to focus...
In a Dallas Morning News story about Kathleen that came out just last week (from great reporter, Sam Hodges), a man who is friend and mentor to many of us, Bill McElvaney, suggested that at times like these, the best questions are not the "why" questions at all, but the "how" questions...
In the story, Bill asks: "How are we going to get through this and support one another?"
To my way of thinking, there is another "how" question out there too...and one that, frankly, holds a lot of inspiration and hope for us:
How does how Kathleen died teach us to live?
The older I get, the more I come to believe that often we die much as we have lived. Rabbi and Therapist, Edwin Friedman used to say transitional events, such as a death, do not so much mark a change in a person or a family, so much as they magnify and illuminate what is already present. As I said, the older I get, the more I tend to see that this is true.
So it is that if we've been fearful in life, we are often fearful as death approaches. If we have been loving in life, we are often loving as death draws near. Like all stereotypes, there are definitely exceptions to this rule. But the reason I bring it up here is to note how completely consistent Kathleen's life and death were to who she was as a person.
As many of you already know, Kathleen chose to die with extraordinary openness, grace, and love. Kathleen and Bill made a remarkable --almost unheard of-- choice over the past ten days: to throw open the doors of their home and their lives and welcome in anyone who wished to come, in order to say goodbye. On most days during her last week, she greeted first tens of people...then hundreds of people...and maybe even thousands for all anyone knows. She spent time with them. She told them how she felt about them. She listened patiently as they shared their feelings too.
It started, as Sam Hodges' DMN story notes, with an afternoon of clergy colleagues this past Monday. We clergy came through the door in a steady stream. And, on behalf of those of us who were there, I will observe that it felt like the heart of what our "Connection" is supposed to be....coming together for mutual support and love as brothers and sisters. Our "Connections" does not always feel that way. But thanks be to God when it does.
But that was just the beginning. Hundreds of friends from West Dallas, Greenland Hills, Suncreek, and beyond, came through to share some time with Kathleen. Carolers from Greenland Hills showed up Monday night. Kathleen shared a meal of Maine lobster with her covenant group and their spouses. Groups put up luminarias. Minister friends continued to stop by. A group of musician friends came in Friday night for a houseconcert and night of song. ( I was sorry to miss it!) In the midst of it, Kathleen managed to attend Thanksgiving celebrations at both the Baskin and Ball households.
And then, to top it off, there was this past Sunday, just a little more than a day before she died. Kathleen was scheduled to do quite a few baptisms during the Sunday morning service. And by the time it was finished, she had done 37 of them! To hear others tell it, the people simply kept coming and coming. When that was done, she spent the afternoon with the Suncreek Youth Choir and their families. And then she had one last visitation with folks from 5-7 pm. (They tell me that folks started lining up an hour ahead of time!).
And when those final visits were done, it seems now that she was done too. We had said our goodbyes to her, and she had said her's to us. And it was time to go.
Friends, I've talked to several minister friends in the past day and we all agree....even in our relatively decent physical condition, that kind of schedule would be draining. And I am sure it took a toll, and I know that there are some friends and family would rather have seen her not do any of it. And even among those who can begin to understand why she did it, there are many of us scratching our heads in awe that she was able to do it.
But one thing is clear: she would not have had it any other way.
There was no keeping everyone away, or keeping her away from everyone. One of Kathleen's most endearing traits has always been an openness about her life, an ability to laugh at herself and, frankly, an ability to not take herself too seriously even at times that might seem embarrassing, or even horrifying, to others. She had a lightness of being that allowed her to be bluntly open and vulnerable about herself and her situation when she was in the best of times, and when she was in the worst of times too.
So, in retrospect, all we can say is "of course she threw the doors of her home open, because that's what she always did. That was just Kathleen."
But, on this morning after, it seems clear to me now that even in her death she was showing us HOW.
How, not to die, but how to live. She reminded us that the great transition we make is not from "life to death," but from "life to life."
It's not that the why questions are not important. It's simply that the how questions mean a whole lot more.
How does God love us?
More deeply, broadly and passionately than we can possibly imagine. And with a love that never ends.
How are we to love each other?
In the same way...living each moment...embracing each obstacle that comes our way as simply a part of the journey of life into life.
How are we to die?
With the confidence that life never ends, that nothing is lost, that even in our most broken moments (perhaps especially in them) God is present.
When Kathleen was at Nueva Esperanza, one of the signs and symbols of that community was a chalice that came to be known as "Timothy's Cup." It was a communion chalice that became such a revered symbol it's image is now a part of the stained glass window in that church.
Timothy's Cup became famous when it was broken by one of the children of that community (Timothy). Kathleen and Sarah Wilke rescued the cup, used it as a teachable moment with Timothy, and the eventually found a way to piece the cup back together.
Ever after, Kathleen used that chalice as a sign and symbol for that community. It became for her an outward and visible symbol of the broken, yet sacred, nature of that community together....a reminder that in our brokenness we can still be whole and still be of God. I recall that she would occasionally bring that cup to Annual Conference events when she shared about the ministry of Nueva Esperanza.
It strikes me today that, near the end of her life, Kathleen became a living "Timothy's Cup." Her body, although broken and weak, was a still a powerful vessel for God's love and grace to so many people in these last weeks.
In the scripture at the beginning of this blog, Paul reminds us that our treasures here are on this earth are simple "jars of clay." Perhaps even our bodies are these jars?
This fact, Paul says, allows us to trust that any blessing and love brought forth from us is not ultimately our doing alone, but God's. We are but vessels for the time we are here on earth. We are all, Paul says, vessels of Christ's brokenness and, yes, even vessels of Christ's death. Paul says we carry a sense of Christ's death in us, so that life can shine through us.
So, in the end, while there may be no good answers to the "why" questions, there may be some powerful answers to the "how" questions.
I believe I can say with great confidence that Paul describes how Kathleen Baskin-Ball lived. I believe he also describes how she died.
And perhaps the great sermon she was trying to teach us over these past ten days is that --to the level and to the extent God individually calls us(and everyone's call is different)-- we all ought to likewise live and die.
"In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us....we are not alone....thanks be to God!"
Or, as Kathleen would say, "Glory Be!"
No blog, no memorial, can ever be eloquent enough to honor the life of such an incredible woman. Others will offer their own thoughts at various times, I am sure. And I sense that her service Saturday will be a marvelous celebration of the various parts of her life and ministry.
All this is to say that, as with much of the writing I do here, this entry is as much as part of my own catharsis and healing as anything else. If others find it meaningful, all the better...EF
"My, but we learn so slow
And heroes, they come and they go
And leave us behind, as if we're s'posed to know
Why?"
-- Joe Walsh (The Eagles), "Pretty Maids All in a Row"
"But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies..."
"So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal."
-- St. Paul (from 2 Corinthians 4)
Kathleen Baskin-Ball was a good friend. I can say that about her. And I can I promise you that dozens --perhaps hundreds-- of other people can say that about her too. In fact, a funny thing happened to me this past week. At least three of my clergy friends told me exactly the same story. Three of them, to a person, said something like this:
"I always thought that Kathleen was one of my best friends....but then I gradually grew to understand that everybody feels that way about her!!!"
I suppose at first, when you learn this truth, it can be a little off-putting. But you eventually come to realize it says very little about you and everything about her.
Kathleen was better at finding, keeping, and loving friends than perhaps any other human being I know. She had a unique sense of being able to fold-in those close to her, to make friends, loved ones, church members, feel special and loved.
Whether Kathleen was in the presence of a Latina single-mother from West Dallas, or a United Methodist Bishop from West Texas, Kathleen treated everyone she met not only with respect, but with a deep sense of love, affection, and caring. If you were with Kathleen, you got the sense that Kathleen cared about you...loved you....would do anything she could to help you. Perhaps it struck some people as a little unreal, almost "too good to be true." But it wasn't an act. It was who she was to the core.
My first memories of Kathleen were at Annual Conference events, when I would see from her across the room as she addressed us clergy-folk about "Nueva Esparanza," the church in West Dallas she served at the time. The church shares a corner of the Wesley-Rankin Center block.
I didn't know her personally then, just "knew of" her. But I remember thinking even then of what poise and grace she showed, to so confidently advocate and love the people of West Dallas. She understood that the ministry there was a special calling.
One of the things Kathleen did so well was to gather people together in groups. Somewhere along the way, some of my colleagues formed a book study group we came to call "Listening for God." (from the name of the first study-series we ever used...) I was a honored to be a part of it. Kathleen as also a member. It was in that group that I got to know her better. We'd meet about once-a-month for some years, ostensibly to study some book or guide, but also always to check in about what was going on in our lives. In that group, we loved and prayed each other through changes in ministry, through joyful and painful movements through our personal relationships, and through struggles about what it meant to be a part of "The Connection."
Kathleen struggled with leaving West Dallas and Nueva Esperanza. Folks worried about her, for her sake. As she readied to leave I think she probably knew that no ministry setting would ever again be filled with quite the same combination of heartbreak and reward. Those of us who knew her then know how she poured her heart and soul into it, even going so far as to live in the community. But being in that kind of ministry setting is a bit like being a doctor in a "M.A.S.H." unit. Eventually, for the sake of your own soul, you must get some distance, no matter how much you love the people, or how good you are at your job. And in getting that distance, you must trust that others will continue the work.
Kathleen moved from there to Greenland Hills UMC, in East Dallas, where John Thornburg served for many years. She had some marvelous years at Greenland Hills. And it was there that, through her stories about that church, I came to understand one of her most enduring character traits: Kathleen had the ability to take people of polar opposite opinions, and bind them together with the sheer force of her own personality and will.
On key issues of the day, such as homosexuality, people with completely opposite beliefs found themselves worshipping together at Greenland Hills, and staying united as the church. A part of this was surely the working of God. But another part of it was surely their love and respect for Kathleen. They understood that she trusted and loved them, no matter "where they were." And she was determined to model a church where everyone could be welcomed to the table equally, and where everyone could STAY at the table TOGETHER.
This is not an easy thing to do. Frankly, it takes an extraordinary personality to do it. And sometimes, it only happens through the sheer will of strong personalities like Kathleen's. For those looking in from the outside, she made it seem easy...like breathing. It flowed out of her, and it inspired people to be their best.
One night --in the months just before Kathleen went to Suncreek and I came to Northaven-- I had a CD Release party at Poor David's Pub down on Greenville Avenue. I invited all the folks I knew from the various parts of my life. Lots of family and musician friends came. So did lots of clergy friends, and so did lots of folks from HPUMC...especially the Single Adults that I'd worked with for many years.
I remember Kathleen was sitting at a front table, off stage right, with some Greenland Hills staff and some "LFG" friends. I remember her cheering loudly, almost to the point of embarrassing me! (She was going to make sure I knew how supportive she was!) Somewhere else among the crowd that night was Bill Ball, sitting at a table of HPUMC single adults. Bill and Kathleen had met years before. But on this night, they re-met.
Kathleen would later say that initially she thought Bill was probably a great guy, but a little young for her. And, actually, she thought about setting him up with somebody else she knew! (Always thinking of others...) But as the days passed, she eventually said to herself, "Why would I want to do that?!" (And as they met for coffee, getting to know each other better, Bill began asking her the same question!)
The only thing I remember of that time is that they both called me the week after the show.
Bill called to say something like, "Hey, I saw Kathleen Baskin at your CD release party..."
Kathleen said, "Hey, I hadn't seen that Bill Ball guy in years..."
Of course, being a typical guy, I was too dense to put two-and-two together at the time.But sparks were soon flying!!
I actually remembered one other tidbit from this time period when I sat down to write today. I remembered how, privately, each worried what everyone else would think of their romance. Kathleen worried how the Greenland Hills folks would take a new romance in her life. Bill --who was at the time the president of our largest Single Adult class at HPUMC-- worried how the singles there would take the news and what would happen to the class should he and Kathleen get married (which seemed more and more inevitable...).
And know, what? That was just like the two of them...to be concerned about how their love would affect others!
Soon, they were dating. Soon after that, they were married. And one of the high honors of my ministry was when I officiated at their wedding.
Bill and Kathleen were not a couple I would have originally put together. But once they were together, I could not imagine them apart. They were a marvelous team in life, and in ministry. They just seemed to "fit."
When Kathleen moved to Suncreek UMC in Allen, she did it like she did everything: with a sense of purpose and sense that what she was doing was greater than herself. She knew that a suburban setting would be far different from West Dallas, or even Old East Dallas. But I think she knew intuitively that she had the gifts and graces to be a truly marvelous pastor there. And I remember her taking quite seriously is her role as a woman leader, and what an important step it would be for her to be appointed as a woman pastor to this large suburban setting. And, as anyone who's been paying attention knows, Suncreek has flourished and thrived under her leadership.
In fact, throughout her ministry, she always seemed keenly aware of how important it was for her to step into leadership roles, not only as a pastor, but as a woman pastor. When she was elected to lead our North Texas Delagation...or when she chaired a General Conference Committee...she did so not out of a sense of her own ambition, but also with a keen sense that her being there served as a role model for others. I remember very clear conversations with her about this, and always thought it beautiful that she sought to be role model for others.
Today, the day after her death, I woke up to the sense that there are likely thousands of grieving-people all over North Texas and beyond. Kathleen was such a LIGHT in so many people's lives that her death leaves a dark hole that likely cannot be filled. The harder truth about it is that we who are counted on to be spiritual guides --the clergy of the North Texas Conference-- are grieving as deeply and as painfully as anyone. If we are honest, many of us are feeling our own sense of loss and weakness.
In fact, I literally felt it Monday night. All through the evening, I felt that something wasn't quite right. I had headache, a stomach ache, and couldn't figure out why. I even started crying at one point, and told Bill yesterday that I almost called him. It seems clear to me now that there was some mysterious "spiritual sympathy" happening.
My intuition is that I'm not alone in that at this moment, and that perhaps thousands of others are feeling it too.
And so, in our weakness and tears, we find ourselves with "why" questions.
Here's an honest truth: at a time like this, we clergy struggle with those "why" questions just as much as the next person. That's what drew me to the lyrics from the Eagles' song, "Pretty Maids All in the Row," to start off this blog. Sometime last week, that song got stuck in my head, and over the past few days, I've realized that it was because of the lyric I quote above.
There is a sense that at times like these, people turn to us clergy-folk and ask us "why" questions...."as if we're s'posed to know...."
Friends, sometimes there are simply no good answers to the "why" questions of life's suffering. I realize that this is not a very satisfactory answer. And even as I write it (as one who is expected to have a brilliant answer) part of it feels like a copout. After all, aren't we "s'posed to know?"
But human beings have been struggling to find satisfactory answers to "why" questions for thousands of years, and the answers never seems to come. Heck, you could argue that the entire book of Job is one long essay about the futility of focusing on "why."
Perhaps there is a different place to focus...
In a Dallas Morning News story about Kathleen that came out just last week (from great reporter, Sam Hodges), a man who is friend and mentor to many of us, Bill McElvaney, suggested that at times like these, the best questions are not the "why" questions at all, but the "how" questions...
In the story, Bill asks: "How are we going to get through this and support one another?"
To my way of thinking, there is another "how" question out there too...and one that, frankly, holds a lot of inspiration and hope for us:
How does how Kathleen died teach us to live?
The older I get, the more I come to believe that often we die much as we have lived. Rabbi and Therapist, Edwin Friedman used to say transitional events, such as a death, do not so much mark a change in a person or a family, so much as they magnify and illuminate what is already present. As I said, the older I get, the more I tend to see that this is true.
So it is that if we've been fearful in life, we are often fearful as death approaches. If we have been loving in life, we are often loving as death draws near. Like all stereotypes, there are definitely exceptions to this rule. But the reason I bring it up here is to note how completely consistent Kathleen's life and death were to who she was as a person.
As many of you already know, Kathleen chose to die with extraordinary openness, grace, and love. Kathleen and Bill made a remarkable --almost unheard of-- choice over the past ten days: to throw open the doors of their home and their lives and welcome in anyone who wished to come, in order to say goodbye. On most days during her last week, she greeted first tens of people...then hundreds of people...and maybe even thousands for all anyone knows. She spent time with them. She told them how she felt about them. She listened patiently as they shared their feelings too.
It started, as Sam Hodges' DMN story notes, with an afternoon of clergy colleagues this past Monday. We clergy came through the door in a steady stream. And, on behalf of those of us who were there, I will observe that it felt like the heart of what our "Connection" is supposed to be....coming together for mutual support and love as brothers and sisters. Our "Connections" does not always feel that way. But thanks be to God when it does.
But that was just the beginning. Hundreds of friends from West Dallas, Greenland Hills, Suncreek, and beyond, came through to share some time with Kathleen. Carolers from Greenland Hills showed up Monday night. Kathleen shared a meal of Maine lobster with her covenant group and their spouses. Groups put up luminarias. Minister friends continued to stop by. A group of musician friends came in Friday night for a houseconcert and night of song. ( I was sorry to miss it!) In the midst of it, Kathleen managed to attend Thanksgiving celebrations at both the Baskin and Ball households.
And then, to top it off, there was this past Sunday, just a little more than a day before she died. Kathleen was scheduled to do quite a few baptisms during the Sunday morning service. And by the time it was finished, she had done 37 of them! To hear others tell it, the people simply kept coming and coming. When that was done, she spent the afternoon with the Suncreek Youth Choir and their families. And then she had one last visitation with folks from 5-7 pm. (They tell me that folks started lining up an hour ahead of time!).
And when those final visits were done, it seems now that she was done too. We had said our goodbyes to her, and she had said her's to us. And it was time to go.
Friends, I've talked to several minister friends in the past day and we all agree....even in our relatively decent physical condition, that kind of schedule would be draining. And I am sure it took a toll, and I know that there are some friends and family would rather have seen her not do any of it. And even among those who can begin to understand why she did it, there are many of us scratching our heads in awe that she was able to do it.
But one thing is clear: she would not have had it any other way.
There was no keeping everyone away, or keeping her away from everyone. One of Kathleen's most endearing traits has always been an openness about her life, an ability to laugh at herself and, frankly, an ability to not take herself too seriously even at times that might seem embarrassing, or even horrifying, to others. She had a lightness of being that allowed her to be bluntly open and vulnerable about herself and her situation when she was in the best of times, and when she was in the worst of times too.
So, in retrospect, all we can say is "of course she threw the doors of her home open, because that's what she always did. That was just Kathleen."
But, on this morning after, it seems clear to me now that even in her death she was showing us HOW.
How, not to die, but how to live. She reminded us that the great transition we make is not from "life to death," but from "life to life."
It's not that the why questions are not important. It's simply that the how questions mean a whole lot more.
How does God love us?
More deeply, broadly and passionately than we can possibly imagine. And with a love that never ends.
How are we to love each other?
In the same way...living each moment...embracing each obstacle that comes our way as simply a part of the journey of life into life.
How are we to die?
With the confidence that life never ends, that nothing is lost, that even in our most broken moments (perhaps especially in them) God is present.
When Kathleen was at Nueva Esperanza, one of the signs and symbols of that community was a chalice that came to be known as "Timothy's Cup." It was a communion chalice that became such a revered symbol it's image is now a part of the stained glass window in that church.
Timothy's Cup became famous when it was broken by one of the children of that community (Timothy). Kathleen and Sarah Wilke rescued the cup, used it as a teachable moment with Timothy, and the eventually found a way to piece the cup back together.
Ever after, Kathleen used that chalice as a sign and symbol for that community. It became for her an outward and visible symbol of the broken, yet sacred, nature of that community together....a reminder that in our brokenness we can still be whole and still be of God. I recall that she would occasionally bring that cup to Annual Conference events when she shared about the ministry of Nueva Esperanza.
It strikes me today that, near the end of her life, Kathleen became a living "Timothy's Cup." Her body, although broken and weak, was a still a powerful vessel for God's love and grace to so many people in these last weeks.
In the scripture at the beginning of this blog, Paul reminds us that our treasures here are on this earth are simple "jars of clay." Perhaps even our bodies are these jars?
This fact, Paul says, allows us to trust that any blessing and love brought forth from us is not ultimately our doing alone, but God's. We are but vessels for the time we are here on earth. We are all, Paul says, vessels of Christ's brokenness and, yes, even vessels of Christ's death. Paul says we carry a sense of Christ's death in us, so that life can shine through us.
So, in the end, while there may be no good answers to the "why" questions, there may be some powerful answers to the "how" questions.
I believe I can say with great confidence that Paul describes how Kathleen Baskin-Ball lived. I believe he also describes how she died.
And perhaps the great sermon she was trying to teach us over these past ten days is that --to the level and to the extent God individually calls us(and everyone's call is different)-- we all ought to likewise live and die.
"In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us....we are not alone....thanks be to God!"
Or, as Kathleen would say, "Glory Be!"
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A Sadness Beyond Words
Nov/22/2008 03:45 PM | Permalink
Many of you will have already heard the news posted
below from Bill Ball, about Kathleen. But I got two
Facebook messages today from folks who were "out of
the loop," and so I thought I'd post this to my blog.
Anybody who is a Methodist in North Texas will be heartbroken by this news. For those of us who love Kathleen and Bill like family, it's beyond words. I hope some of the old Pursuits Class friends will also perhaps see this, and I invite you to support Bill and Skyler in this time too.
More to say in a few days. But Bill's email is below the jump...and there's not much more to say now...
Rev. Kathleen Baskin-Ball Update
Anybody who is a Methodist in North Texas will be heartbroken by this news. For those of us who love Kathleen and Bill like family, it's beyond words. I hope some of the old Pursuits Class friends will also perhaps see this, and I invite you to support Bill and Skyler in this time too.
More to say in a few days. But Bill's email is below the jump...and there's not much more to say now...
Rev. Kathleen Baskin-Ball Update
Kathleen had a PET Scan on Wednesday morning. They found that the cancer remained fairly small in her liver. However, the scan found some cancer in her brain near her cerebellum. An MRI on Wednesday evening, confirmed the cancer near the cerebellum and noted three other locations in the brain where there are very small areas of cancer. Kathleen has decided to not have any form of brain surgery or radiation treatment for the cancer in her brain. Those efforts would likely cause much more suffering than healing. She will begin receiving hospice care at home.
We are all very sad. We want to make the most of the time that she has left. Kathleen has fought this cancer with great might. She has only missed two Sundays when she was scheduled to preach over the past two years. She preached last Sunday despite many physical challenges. Many times, she has miraculously found the strength to keep moving forward in her ministry at Suncreek and in leadership positions beyond the local church. She is grateful to all of those who have permitted her to continue to be so active in ministry.
She has now reached a point where her body needs rest. Her spirit remains strong. She wants to spend what time remains saying goodbye.
She is trying to balance her need for rest with her need to remain very connected with others. The plan for now is to setup times each day when persons can stop by to visit.
Early in Kathleen’s illness, a group from Suncreek hung symbols of love and hope on the tree in our front yard. We loved this. We welcome anyone do so now.
Kathleen wants to express her deep gratitude to all of those who keep offering her their prayers, love, and support. She wants you to know that she loves you.
Bill D. Ball, Jr
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Judge Barefoot Sanders Memorial Service
Oct/01/2008 12:00 AM | Permalink
Sometimes soon, when time permits, I'll blog more
fully on the life of Judge Barefoot Sanders, our
friend and church member who died this past week.
His memorial service was at our church a week ago today, and sometime this week we'll be adding a video page to the church's website so that folks can enjoy the videos there.
But those of you who read my blog (and, by extension, my Facebook) get this advanced look:
It was a marvelous service, and I was very proud of how welcoming Northaven was to the more than 900 folks who came to pay their respects.
His memorial service was at our church a week ago today, and sometime this week we'll be adding a video page to the church's website so that folks can enjoy the videos there.
But those of you who read my blog (and, by extension, my Facebook) get this advanced look:
It was a marvelous service, and I was very proud of how welcoming Northaven was to the more than 900 folks who came to pay their respects.
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Goodbye, Stratopastor
Aug/20/2008 08:42 AM | Permalink
Last Saturday, Rusty King and I were honored to sit
in on a little "family time" at First United
Methodist Church of Sachse. It was a time of prayer
and song that the church had shaped, as people began
to deal with their shock and grief over the death of
Russ Noland two days before.
Those who had gathered had set up a beautiful make-shift altar to Russ at the front of the chancel area. It had all sorts of momentoes of Russ' life. There were religious object, as you might expect. But there were also things like a vinyl copy of the Blue Brother's album, an Elmo puppet, and some Ray Bans. And, of course, Russ' stratocaster.
Brady Waters spoke (btw: he's another in a long line of fine ministry products to come out of fumcr. I'm just sayin') and did a nice job balancing the sense of grief people were feeling with the message that those left in life will continue on in their work. The most amazing thing of all is that Stephanie Noland, Russ' wife, spoke for about 15-20 minutes. She talked about Russ. She joked about Russ. She tenderly and beautifully addressed the Sachse Church, and even some individuals there, telling them how much they meant to Russ and to her. Frankly, I don't know how she did it, but it was beautiful.
Russ was a blogger. Somedays I think, "Isn't everyone?" But Russ had blog-fans scattered out around the country....folks who've been going to his Facebook page to leave their condolences this week. They talk about how, even though they never met him, they felt like they knew him through his blogs. The name of his blog was "Stratopastor."
IMHO, this is one of the best blog names ever. Not only is it catchy, it really describes Russ.
Russ WAS the Stratopastor.
Like most of us, Russ was many things other things too. His official obituary tells it this way:
This past week, I have heard several of my colleagues (higher ups in the UM system) say that Russ was a pastor who "got it." He understood, in a visionary way, the kinds of ways that a church needed to change to keep pace in the current world environment. I have heard people at the Sachse Church say the same thing. Gathering from what I saw at Sachse on Saturday, Russ was also able to simply be present with the people there, and to love them. And sometimes, even more than visionary leadership, that's what people need most.
In recent weeks, Russ and I had talked about how his own theology and politics have changed over the years. He was a graduate of Asbury Seminary; which, for some, would be an indicator that he was an ultra conservative. But, as you can clearly see from his blog, his own politics and social views had turned steadily more to the center (and even left) as he grew and changed.
Like all of us in Connections, music was one of Russ' passions. Russ joined the band earlier this year, at the suggestion of our drummer Michael Sheehan. And what an incredible addition to the group he has been.
In fact, we (meaning: me) have redone almost all of the soundclips that are featured on our website. Almost all the Chicago/Eagles clips now come from the great show at FUMCR, where almost 550 people packed the hall.
Under any circumstances, I'd probably refer you to those clips this morning, because they highlight how the band has matured. In fact, that was originally going to be the gist of this blog entry today. But as I edited them this week, I was struck by several cuts that feature Russ, and I listened carefully to his wonderful playing.
So, with Russ' death, these new soundclips become even more poignant, because you can really hear the depth he brought to our sound, and hear what a fine player he really was. An I want you to hear them too.
First, check out this clip of Russ on "25 or 6 to 4."
This is one of the great songs in all of rock n' roll history. Chicago's original guitar player was Terry Kath (who, btw, met his own untimely death too). Russ does Terry Kath proud. Seriously...just listen. This is a seriously rockin' solo, and I can hear the influence of Kath and other greats in there.
But Russ didn't just hack at the guitar. He knew when to pull back and play in a beautifully nuanced way. Check out this clip from "I Can't Tell You Why."
That's Russ for most of the song....Barry Carroll joins him at the very end. But just listen to how smooth it is. Know who it reminds me of?
BB King.
Or perhaps --and I know Russ would dig me saying this-- Eric Clapton playing with the "slowhand."
Or, listen to "Best of My Love" and hear the quiet way that Russ (and Rusty) blend in with the quieter sound.
To be blunt, a lot of guitar players don't how to lay back, and blend in on songs like this. But Russ nailed it.
Well, as people continue to deal with their grief in different ways, I just wanted to put these clips out there, and call your special attention to them. Maybe giving them a listen is one of the ways you can honor Russ in your heart this week?
One of the old-timey preacher expressions is " the heavenly band." Seems to me it takes on new meaning in our day, when you think about Russ. I'm sure he's up there with the heavenly band right now. He and Kath are probably now officially drawing straws to see who gets first lead on "25 or 6 to 4." And, despite our grief here, I trust he's have a whale of a time there.
Goodbye, Stratopastor.
Those who had gathered had set up a beautiful make-shift altar to Russ at the front of the chancel area. It had all sorts of momentoes of Russ' life. There were religious object, as you might expect. But there were also things like a vinyl copy of the Blue Brother's album, an Elmo puppet, and some Ray Bans. And, of course, Russ' stratocaster.
Brady Waters spoke (btw: he's another in a long line of fine ministry products to come out of fumcr. I'm just sayin') and did a nice job balancing the sense of grief people were feeling with the message that those left in life will continue on in their work. The most amazing thing of all is that Stephanie Noland, Russ' wife, spoke for about 15-20 minutes. She talked about Russ. She joked about Russ. She tenderly and beautifully addressed the Sachse Church, and even some individuals there, telling them how much they meant to Russ and to her. Frankly, I don't know how she did it, but it was beautiful.
Russ was a blogger. Somedays I think, "Isn't everyone?" But Russ had blog-fans scattered out around the country....folks who've been going to his Facebook page to leave their condolences this week. They talk about how, even though they never met him, they felt like they knew him through his blogs. The name of his blog was "Stratopastor."
IMHO, this is one of the best blog names ever. Not only is it catchy, it really describes Russ.
Russ WAS the Stratopastor.
Like most of us, Russ was many things other things too. His official obituary tells it this way:
Russ Noland died Aug. 14, 2008, in Garland, Texas. Pastor Russ Noland had been the lead pastor of Sachse First United Methodist Church since June 2005.
A 1997 graduate of Asbury Theological Seminary, Russ preached for over 25 years and had a passion for communicating God's word in a relevant and dynamic manner.
Russ is survived by his wife, Stephanie, a first-grade teacher in the Mesquite Independent School District and nationally recognized staff development consultant. Stephanie is active in the children's ministry of the church.
Russ served as the vice president of the board for the City Core Initiative, an urban ministry resource group in Dallas. He was also a member of the Creating Congregations Team of the North Texas Conference of the United Methodist Church and chaired the Missional Church Task Force for that group.
In his spare time, Russ played lead guitar with the Connections band, a group of United Methodist pastors and laypersons who are passionate about using their musical skills to raise money for great causes. Russ and Stephanie have one spoiled dog named Kinsey.
This past week, I have heard several of my colleagues (higher ups in the UM system) say that Russ was a pastor who "got it." He understood, in a visionary way, the kinds of ways that a church needed to change to keep pace in the current world environment. I have heard people at the Sachse Church say the same thing. Gathering from what I saw at Sachse on Saturday, Russ was also able to simply be present with the people there, and to love them. And sometimes, even more than visionary leadership, that's what people need most.
In recent weeks, Russ and I had talked about how his own theology and politics have changed over the years. He was a graduate of Asbury Seminary; which, for some, would be an indicator that he was an ultra conservative. But, as you can clearly see from his blog, his own politics and social views had turned steadily more to the center (and even left) as he grew and changed.
Like all of us in Connections, music was one of Russ' passions. Russ joined the band earlier this year, at the suggestion of our drummer Michael Sheehan. And what an incredible addition to the group he has been.
In fact, we (meaning: me) have redone almost all of the soundclips that are featured on our website. Almost all the Chicago/Eagles clips now come from the great show at FUMCR, where almost 550 people packed the hall.
Under any circumstances, I'd probably refer you to those clips this morning, because they highlight how the band has matured. In fact, that was originally going to be the gist of this blog entry today. But as I edited them this week, I was struck by several cuts that feature Russ, and I listened carefully to his wonderful playing.
So, with Russ' death, these new soundclips become even more poignant, because you can really hear the depth he brought to our sound, and hear what a fine player he really was. An I want you to hear them too.
First, check out this clip of Russ on "25 or 6 to 4."
This is one of the great songs in all of rock n' roll history. Chicago's original guitar player was Terry Kath (who, btw, met his own untimely death too). Russ does Terry Kath proud. Seriously...just listen. This is a seriously rockin' solo, and I can hear the influence of Kath and other greats in there.
But Russ didn't just hack at the guitar. He knew when to pull back and play in a beautifully nuanced way. Check out this clip from "I Can't Tell You Why."
That's Russ for most of the song....Barry Carroll joins him at the very end. But just listen to how smooth it is. Know who it reminds me of?
BB King.
Or perhaps --and I know Russ would dig me saying this-- Eric Clapton playing with the "slowhand."
Or, listen to "Best of My Love" and hear the quiet way that Russ (and Rusty) blend in with the quieter sound.
To be blunt, a lot of guitar players don't how to lay back, and blend in on songs like this. But Russ nailed it.
Well, as people continue to deal with their grief in different ways, I just wanted to put these clips out there, and call your special attention to them. Maybe giving them a listen is one of the ways you can honor Russ in your heart this week?
One of the old-timey preacher expressions is " the heavenly band." Seems to me it takes on new meaning in our day, when you think about Russ. I'm sure he's up there with the heavenly band right now. He and Kath are probably now officially drawing straws to see who gets first lead on "25 or 6 to 4." And, despite our grief here, I trust he's have a whale of a time there.
Goodbye, Stratopastor.
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The Reach
Aug/18/2008 08:10 AM | Permalink
It's been a strange couple of days filled with life
and death. My Treo says that today I'm having lunch
with Russ Noland. I plan to be there. I'm having a
hard time believing he won't.
In the midst of that sadness, a beautiful story of the beginning of new life and hope. August 13 was Dan Fogelberg's birthday, and the story below comes from his wife Jean. Since his death, she's written several moving emails to his fans about Dan's legacy, music, and the honest struggles she's going through coping with his death.
I will note that this email was written on the day Russ died. Which she could not have known, of course. Everyone who loves Connections cannot not help but note it. "The Reach" has become one of our favorite Dan Fogelberg songs in our live tribute to him. It's the next-to-last song before the obligatory "Gambler." It features just about the whole band, and you can hear our version below, as you read this beautiful story from Jean Fogelberg.
August 14, 2008
Hello everyone,
Well, I'm sitting here in Maine on another overcast, cold day. This summer has been an unusually wet one, with widespread power outages, flooding, and dampness-caused damage to hay crops as well as small fruits and vegetables. The last week has been especially rainy, with the exception of yesterday. And that's the day I'm writing to tell you about.
It had been a difficult few weeks for me. Going through hundreds of photos of Dan while laying out the "Love In Time" CD package was taking an emotional toll on me. But when I looked out the window yesterday morning and saw the beginnings of a glorious sunny day, I felt happiness well up inside of me. I thought: "This is the day". I knew that you would all be holding Dan in your hearts, so it would be the perfect day to fulfill a special promise I'd made to him.
Dan had asked me to pick a beautiful day in late summer, go out with our friends Jon and Sherry on their boat "Free Spirit", and scatter his ashes on the Reach. He wanted me to do it just before sunset, at the marker where he would turn at the end of the day to return to the cove, and home.
I had arranged everything tentatively with Jon and Sherry for his birthday, but with the understanding that we would re-schedule if the weather was too bad. No need. The hard rain the day before had scrubbed the air crystal clear, and they were calling for temperatures in the 70's.
We left the dock at 5:00 pm, the four of us: me, Jon and Sherry, and our good friend Jean, and just sailed and drifted around the Reach. They had brought crackers, veggies, fruit, shrimp, and dips, and I brought the champagne. We talked and laughed and reminisced, just as we would have if Dan were there with us physically. There was no moroseness, no awkward silences, no sniffling, and they had packed napkins and glasses for 5, so he was included.
I was wearing Dan's favorite blue sweater and the first necklace he'd ever given me, and had my hair in a braid (he loved my long blonde hair, especially in a braid). Jon and Sherry and Jean each had on one of Dan's sailing vests, and we all had our "Quest" pins on. I had my arm around the antique brown widemouth jar holding Dan's ashes sitting next to me. Dan and I had saved Buckaroo's ashes (the amazing Maine Coon cat, "Remington Buckaroo Boone", often credited on Dan's albums) all these years, and these too were in the jar, and the night before I had cut 5 inches off of my hair and snipped it into tiny strands and put them in the jar as well. The wind was perfect for drifting about aimlessly. But at 6:15 we started the engine and headed for the marker: a green "can" that marks the edge of a ledge. Amazingly, at this point we had the Reach to ourselves... not another boat in sight.
Jon cut the engine and let the sails take us quietly the rest of the way. We toasted Dan with champagne, and at 6:25 we brought up the boombox and put "The Reach" on and I carried the jar forward to the bow of the boat. We were heading directly toward the sun, which was brilliant white gold reflecting on the water. A Cormorant sat on the green can watching us. There was a gentle northerly breeze, and as I took Dan's ashes, a handful at a time, and slowly let them sift through my fingers, they swirled and danced away from me, sparkling in the sun before landing on the water and drifting with the tide, out into the Reach. I could hear Jon, Sherry and Jean crying out in astonishment as (they would later tell me) they watched Dan's ashes swirling and glowing with the sun shining through them.
I knew that at that very moment, as we were playing "The Reach" and honoring Dan here on the east coast, out on the west coast of California our friends Charlie and Suzie were playing "The Reach" as well, and ringing the original bell used in that recording. And around the world, people were honoring Dan in their own way, and playing their own favorite songs. It was a powerful moment.
We came alongside the marker and Jon gently rounded it and steered us toward the cove, and Reach Haven. As I let the last of Dan's ashes leave my fingers I was so filled with gratitude, wonder, and amazement that, like his passing, a moment that would always be a painful memory for me would also have so many elements of beauty and magic.
"The Reach" ended, and I came back to the stern of the boat, where my three shipmates were wiping their eyes with napkins. We all hugged and then sat for a moment of silence, mentally holding hands with everyone else who was sharing this special moment with us. I threw the flowers Dan's family had sent off the back of the boat one at at time, where they followed his ashes, and we each took a lavender rose picked from Jean's garden, said our last farewells, and tossed them into the Reach.
We turned "Free Spirit" around and headed back across the Reach to her mooring, our hearts filled with emotion, and everyone recounting the incredible beauty of what we'd just experienced. As we neared the mooring, we sang "Happy Birthday" to Dan. The sun had dropped behind a bank of clouds on the horizon, lining them in red and gold.
Dan was so many things: passionate sailor, incredible musician, loving husband, true friend, and a wonderful and unique human being. It was the end of a truly perfect day for honoring him and I hope you feel you were a part of it.
Sincerely,
Jean Fogelberg
In the midst of that sadness, a beautiful story of the beginning of new life and hope. August 13 was Dan Fogelberg's birthday, and the story below comes from his wife Jean. Since his death, she's written several moving emails to his fans about Dan's legacy, music, and the honest struggles she's going through coping with his death.
I will note that this email was written on the day Russ died. Which she could not have known, of course. Everyone who loves Connections cannot not help but note it. "The Reach" has become one of our favorite Dan Fogelberg songs in our live tribute to him. It's the next-to-last song before the obligatory "Gambler." It features just about the whole band, and you can hear our version below, as you read this beautiful story from Jean Fogelberg.
August 14, 2008
Hello everyone,
Well, I'm sitting here in Maine on another overcast, cold day. This summer has been an unusually wet one, with widespread power outages, flooding, and dampness-caused damage to hay crops as well as small fruits and vegetables. The last week has been especially rainy, with the exception of yesterday. And that's the day I'm writing to tell you about.
It had been a difficult few weeks for me. Going through hundreds of photos of Dan while laying out the "Love In Time" CD package was taking an emotional toll on me. But when I looked out the window yesterday morning and saw the beginnings of a glorious sunny day, I felt happiness well up inside of me. I thought: "This is the day". I knew that you would all be holding Dan in your hearts, so it would be the perfect day to fulfill a special promise I'd made to him.
Dan had asked me to pick a beautiful day in late summer, go out with our friends Jon and Sherry on their boat "Free Spirit", and scatter his ashes on the Reach. He wanted me to do it just before sunset, at the marker where he would turn at the end of the day to return to the cove, and home.
I had arranged everything tentatively with Jon and Sherry for his birthday, but with the understanding that we would re-schedule if the weather was too bad. No need. The hard rain the day before had scrubbed the air crystal clear, and they were calling for temperatures in the 70's.
We left the dock at 5:00 pm, the four of us: me, Jon and Sherry, and our good friend Jean, and just sailed and drifted around the Reach. They had brought crackers, veggies, fruit, shrimp, and dips, and I brought the champagne. We talked and laughed and reminisced, just as we would have if Dan were there with us physically. There was no moroseness, no awkward silences, no sniffling, and they had packed napkins and glasses for 5, so he was included.
I was wearing Dan's favorite blue sweater and the first necklace he'd ever given me, and had my hair in a braid (he loved my long blonde hair, especially in a braid). Jon and Sherry and Jean each had on one of Dan's sailing vests, and we all had our "Quest" pins on. I had my arm around the antique brown widemouth jar holding Dan's ashes sitting next to me. Dan and I had saved Buckaroo's ashes (the amazing Maine Coon cat, "Remington Buckaroo Boone", often credited on Dan's albums) all these years, and these too were in the jar, and the night before I had cut 5 inches off of my hair and snipped it into tiny strands and put them in the jar as well. The wind was perfect for drifting about aimlessly. But at 6:15 we started the engine and headed for the marker: a green "can" that marks the edge of a ledge. Amazingly, at this point we had the Reach to ourselves... not another boat in sight.
Jon cut the engine and let the sails take us quietly the rest of the way. We toasted Dan with champagne, and at 6:25 we brought up the boombox and put "The Reach" on and I carried the jar forward to the bow of the boat. We were heading directly toward the sun, which was brilliant white gold reflecting on the water. A Cormorant sat on the green can watching us. There was a gentle northerly breeze, and as I took Dan's ashes, a handful at a time, and slowly let them sift through my fingers, they swirled and danced away from me, sparkling in the sun before landing on the water and drifting with the tide, out into the Reach. I could hear Jon, Sherry and Jean crying out in astonishment as (they would later tell me) they watched Dan's ashes swirling and glowing with the sun shining through them.
I knew that at that very moment, as we were playing "The Reach" and honoring Dan here on the east coast, out on the west coast of California our friends Charlie and Suzie were playing "The Reach" as well, and ringing the original bell used in that recording. And around the world, people were honoring Dan in their own way, and playing their own favorite songs. It was a powerful moment.
We came alongside the marker and Jon gently rounded it and steered us toward the cove, and Reach Haven. As I let the last of Dan's ashes leave my fingers I was so filled with gratitude, wonder, and amazement that, like his passing, a moment that would always be a painful memory for me would also have so many elements of beauty and magic.
"The Reach" ended, and I came back to the stern of the boat, where my three shipmates were wiping their eyes with napkins. We all hugged and then sat for a moment of silence, mentally holding hands with everyone else who was sharing this special moment with us. I threw the flowers Dan's family had sent off the back of the boat one at at time, where they followed his ashes, and we each took a lavender rose picked from Jean's garden, said our last farewells, and tossed them into the Reach.
We turned "Free Spirit" around and headed back across the Reach to her mooring, our hearts filled with emotion, and everyone recounting the incredible beauty of what we'd just experienced. As we neared the mooring, we sang "Happy Birthday" to Dan. The sun had dropped behind a bank of clouds on the horizon, lining them in red and gold.
Dan was so many things: passionate sailor, incredible musician, loving husband, true friend, and a wonderful and unique human being. It was the end of a truly perfect day for honoring him and I hope you feel you were a part of it.
Sincerely,
Jean Fogelberg
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Russ Noland
Aug/15/2008 10:00 AM | Permalink
I've just returned from San Antonio, and several days
there, to some shocking news: Russ Noland died of a
massive heart attack last night. Russ, as many will
remember, was one of our guitarists in Connections.
He was also my colleague, serving as minister of FUMC Sachse for many years now. The unfolding news is that Russ died even before reaching the hospital, after suffering the attack at about 11 pm.
I was told by someone on the phone there that there are plans for a gathering at 10:30 am Saturday. I wasn't clear as to whether this was a Memorial Service, so much as a chance for folks to gather in grief.
Please pray for Russ' family, for his close friends, for FUMC Sachse, and for all of us who loved him on Connections Band.
We will dearly miss him.
There is an opportunity for you to leave a comment about Russ at our Connections Band blog here.
He was also my colleague, serving as minister of FUMC Sachse for many years now. The unfolding news is that Russ died even before reaching the hospital, after suffering the attack at about 11 pm.
I was told by someone on the phone there that there are plans for a gathering at 10:30 am Saturday. I wasn't clear as to whether this was a Memorial Service, so much as a chance for folks to gather in grief.
Please pray for Russ' family, for his close friends, for FUMC Sachse, and for all of us who loved him on Connections Band.
We will dearly miss him.
There is an opportunity for you to leave a comment about Russ at our Connections Band blog here.
Homestretch
Aug/05/2008 02:55 PM | Permalink
My longtime friend, Sheri Bylander has produced and
directed a marvelous documentary that I hope you'll
check out. It's called "Homestrech" and it tells the
story of two groups --prisoners and outcast horses--
and the hopeful things that happen when they get
together.
Here's what the website says about it:
Watch the trailer here.
It's QUITE good. I hope you'll spread the word about Homestretch.
Here's what the website says about it:
Homestretch documents the mutual rehabilitation of outcast horses and prisoners. When top-pedigree racehorses fail to earn, they face slaughter or punishing two-bit racing circuits. Alternatively, a few progressive prison farms are pairing rescued thoroughbreds with jail-hardened men. The transformation in man and beast challenges stereotypes of incarceration and so-called "losers."
Watch the trailer here.
It's QUITE good. I hope you'll spread the word about Homestretch.
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Goodbye, Randy Pausch. Thanks for playing all your
cards.
Jul/26/2008 09:07 AM | Permalink
Randy Pausch died yesterday.
It was totally an expected event, as he was suffering from pancreatic cancer. He was 47-years-old, and leaves two small children and a loving wife. And it was his incredible gift to them that ended up inspiring the world.
If you have not heard Randy's gift, you must --you absolutely must-- give yourself the gift of watching. The gift was something college professors often called "The Last Lecture," an old tradition of giving one final speech before retirement. That name took on an entirely new meaning when Randy delivered his on September 19, 2007.
You can watch it right here...
It's a long view (more than an hour...) in that it's a real college lecture.
But, trust me, it's worth it. Sometime today, probably even this morning, it will very likely pass 4 million viewers.
Randy titled this lecture: "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams"
Here's the direct link.
Randy's lecture was turned into a book, called "The Last Lecture." There's a great website here.
Near the end of the life, Randy liked to quote one of the lines from the Disney movie, "The Incredibles." (In fact, the entire family dressed as the Incredibles last Halloween.)
The line is: "We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand."
Thank you, Randy, for not giving up, and instead for giving this incredible gift to your family and the world and embodying the true teacher. Thanks for playing every card.
It was totally an expected event, as he was suffering from pancreatic cancer. He was 47-years-old, and leaves two small children and a loving wife. And it was his incredible gift to them that ended up inspiring the world.
If you have not heard Randy's gift, you must --you absolutely must-- give yourself the gift of watching. The gift was something college professors often called "The Last Lecture," an old tradition of giving one final speech before retirement. That name took on an entirely new meaning when Randy delivered his on September 19, 2007.
You can watch it right here...
It's a long view (more than an hour...) in that it's a real college lecture.
But, trust me, it's worth it. Sometime today, probably even this morning, it will very likely pass 4 million viewers.
Randy titled this lecture: "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams"
Here's the direct link.
Randy's lecture was turned into a book, called "The Last Lecture." There's a great website here.
Near the end of the life, Randy liked to quote one of the lines from the Disney movie, "The Incredibles." (In fact, the entire family dressed as the Incredibles last Halloween.)
The line is: "We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand."
Thank you, Randy, for not giving up, and instead for giving this incredible gift to your family and the world and embodying the true teacher. Thanks for playing every card.
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Bill McElvaney
Jun/04/2008 12:04 AM | Permalink
“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise one who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock.”
And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell --and great was its fall!”
Matthew 7: 26-27
My brother-in-law’s mother used to own a house on the Gulf-side of Galveston Island. We visited her there once, for my nephew’s birthday party. It was a great house. It was as close beach front property as anybody I have personally known has ever owned.
The house was one row off of the water; meaning that it faced the water --there was a row of houses right in front of it-- and backyard of those houses was the big, wide, beautiful blue Gulf of Mexico.
I remember noting to my brother-in-law how lucky it was to have a house that close to the water. And that’s he told me that...well...the house hadn’t actually always been THAT close to the water.
Seems once upon a time, the house was three streets back from the water. But then, fifteen or so years ago, one of those massive Gulf hurricanes had come through, and the house was now two streets from the water. The beachfront homes, street and all, had been completely washed into the sea.
Flash forward to the next big Gulf hurricane. Sure enough, the water won again (as the water always will), another row of houses was lost to the sea, and now my brother-in-law’s mother’s house was beach front property!
She stayed there a while longer. But not surprisingly, eventually she got tired of having to flee every storms, and she now lives in a relatively safer house on bay-side of the island.
I understand why she bought that house, years ago. It's a little more of a stumper to figure why anyone bought it from her, knowing what they must surely know of what happened to those other houses. But, somebody did! (And, thank goodness!)
Jesus seemed to have a similar bit of puzzlement in today’s scripture. Why, Jesus says, would somebody hear the Word of God, and then not act on it? Because if you do that, you are like a person building your house on beach sand. The winds blow...the hurricanes come....and eventually the sea wins....and great is the fall of that kind of house.
When I was a kid, I went to a group called Young Life, now and then. I can still remember one night when the Young Life leader preached on this scripture. He went into a long diatribe about how God wants us to believe God’s word. He went on and on about how important it is to believe God’s word.
I got the clear sense he was talking about was believing certain principles; or believing them strongly enough. What God was calling us to do, this guy insisted, was believe in God’s word. That’s all we had to do.
And I can remember, even that night, being terrified that perhaps I didn’t believe strongly enough. Internally, I was filled with my own usual self doubts and criticism that I wondered, “And even I did believe...would I believe strongly enough to avoid a house on the sand?”
Or: "What if MY house was on the sand, and I didn’t even KNOW it?!!!"
(OH! The horror!!!)
It was not until much later that I finally reread this passage. Much to my surprise, I discovered that this passage wasn’t really about believing things at all. It was about HEARING and DOING God’s word.
Listen to the words again, with a little emphasis added:
“Everyone when who hears these words of mine and ACTS of them, will be like a wise one...”
That’s totally different than what I heard when I was growing up! The point of this scripture is not BELIEVING certain principles. The thing that seems to make a different to Jesus is not the HEARING of God’s word. Did you catch that? Both homeowners hear the word. The different between a house on rock and a house on sand, is ACTING on the word...
IN-acting the word of God...
DOING the word of God...
As I read and re-read this scripture this week, I remembered that this is the Sunday where we are celebrating together 50-years of Bill McElvaney’s ministry, and 80-years of his life.
And suddenly hit me, dear friends, that right before our eyes, we have someone who has spent an entire lifetime not simply being a hearer of the word, but also a doer.
Check out this picture from my own seminary graduation.
Almost twenty-years-ago now. That’s me on the right. That’s Bill on the left. It seems to me I’m the one who looks much worse for the wear. Bill pretty much looks exactly the same!!!
As you have heard me say many times before, Bill McElvaney was a mentor to me and my ministry long before I was appointed to this church. He was, and I am not kidding, my favorite professor at Perkins; for reasons that were not just academic, but also existential.
Especially in my first years at Perkins, I experienced a great deal of angst, shall we say, as I came to really understand the dominance of not only anglo power, but white male power, in our church and world.
It was Bill McElvaney --not as a teacher, but as a human being-- who embodied for me the truth that you could be a white male from North Dallas, and still turn out OK.
Bill taught a class at Perkins called “Preaching the Social Gospel.” The semester I took that class, we students renamed it for him: “The Radical Preacher’s Class.” And the premise of that class --and it seems to me the premise of Bill’s life and ministry-- is that it is not enough to simply be a hearer of the word. God calls us to be doers.
Which is what led Bill McElvaney, very early in his ministry, to join the struggle to integrate the Mesquite Schools. Bill reminded me just the other day that, while he was founding pastor of St. Stephens UMC in Mesquite, he and other members there joined in the struggle to see the schools of that town integrated. That was an edgy thing to be advocating for, in the early 1960s!
Being a doer of the word led Bill McElvaney to opposed the Vietnam War, becoming one of the first clergy in all of Dallas to publicly speak out against that conflict.
Being a doer of the word led Bill to become a teacher and seminary educator; he taught countless other students about becoming not only hearers and preachers, but also doers.
Being a doer of the word led Bill to support the poor in Central America during the late 1980s
Being a doer of the word led Bill to be a passionate voice for change in the UMC, on full GLBT inclusion in the church.
And Bill entered the modern cultural Zeitgeist when he was featured on The Colbert Report for his opposition to the Bush Library at SMU. Bill says he never had more people mention press coverage he's received than did that episode. He's been in the New York Times before, the Morning News...dozens of TV appearances. But nothing prepared him for the acclaim for being on Colbert!!(Welcome to the brave new world of new media...)
But let me say another important word hear: The world will not always be happy to have you be a doer of the word.
Upstairs, on the second floor or our sanctuary, just outside these doors in the hallway, there is a historical timeline of Northaven’s history. One of my favorite pictures in that timeline is of Bill McElvaney and others in downtown Dallas, protesting the Vietnam War.
(I will see if I can get a jpeg copy and upload it here...EF)
The picture was taken just after counter-protestors have doused them with red paint. And the look in Bill’s face is simply priceless. It’s the look of young man, wondering just what he’s gotten himself into. It’s a look of recognition that doing the word has a cost.
And friends, to any and all of us who are involved in the major social struggles of our day, and engaging in those struggles through the Christ gives, let us remember that doing the word almost always has cost. Doing the word can get you splashed with red paint. Or worse....
In Bill’s writings, he often talks about the “disturbing love of God” that compels us to act anyway, despite the costs. It is God’s primary and foundational love for us that disturbs us enough to make us not only hearers but also doers.
Here is a passage from Bill’s book, “Good News is Bad News is Good News,” where he says:
“Thank God the gospel has interfered with my life in countless ways. When I have sought security, the gospel has pointed me to loving risk for others. When my vested interests have blinded me, the gospel has beckoned me to open my eyes to the world beyond my own interests. When I get hooked on status and prestige, the gospel holds before me the picture of a crucified Savior.....the Roto-Rooter churns through the channels of my spirit, clearing and cleansing the impediments that clog up the life of faith....God’s disturbing love cannot be distinguished from that boundless and everlasting love in which we live and die and have our being.”
One final story about Bill. And for me, it’s the crystallization of when he became a mentor to me. I remember the exact moment it happened. It was on the campus of Perkins, in the breezy courtyard between Kirby Hall and Perkins Chapel. I remember the date too. It was late November 1989.
What had just happened, in late November 1989, was that six Jesuit priests --scholars at the UCA in San Salvador, six priests, their housekeeper and her daughter-- had been taken from their quarters in the middle of the night, pushed face down in a nearby courtyard, and executed.
Those of us who have been to El Salvador on mission with our church have actually gone to that site to pay our homage, and to remember their martyrdom as doers and hearers of the world.
But on that November day, as I walked past Perkins Chapel, on my way to somewhere, Dr. McElvaney was coming from the other direction, and stopped to talk for just a moment. He was clearly flustered. He was quite agitated. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. He had learned of the murders. And he was trying to grapple with what they meant, for academics everywhere, but also for our world.
He was angry. He was confused. He was deeply deeply sad. We just chatted for a moment. And then he left.
I had never before seen a seminary professor cry. I had never before seen a seminary professor so deeply touched by the deaths of people far across the world.
And I remember thinking to myself in that moment about how beautiful it was that this Dallas professor had such a connection with God’s children around the world that he would be so deeply moved by their deaths. And I remember thinking that, even with the tears and outward weakness of that moment, that he was incredibly strong.
When you are a doer of the word, your whole world may get turned upside down now and then. The world may break your heart.
But know this: in loving the world, as God first loves us --in doing the word, as Jesus commands-- even if it feels like a life on shifting sand, there is bedrock beneath you.
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Follow Up on Fogelberg
Dec/19/2007 11:18 PM | Permalink
"Death is there to keep us honest,
and contantly remind us we are free."
--Dan Fogelberg
I'm feeling a mixture of sadness and embarrassment. It all has to do with what I blogged about Sunday night: the death of Dan Fogelberg.
First, I am genuinely surprised with how genuinely sad I still am. After all, I'm a grown man. I didn't really know the guy. Wasn't a close personal friend. Never technically met him. Although I did spend an awkward few seconds, standing dumb-foundedly in front of him once.
But the deeper issue doesn't have to do with what I think of Fogelberg, but with what I assume other people do. Most folks who know his music, just know the big hits. And some of those big hits were (let's be honest) pretty sappy:
...."Believe In Me"
...."Longer"
...."Hard to Say"
....even "Run for the Roses" was a little on the schmaltzy side.
To many, Fogelberg was the archetype for over-serious singer-songwriter. (As opposed to just the "serious" one...)
So, given what most people probably think of him (maybe even songwriter friends I admire?) this week I must confess it's been hard to admit my sadness...and embarrassing to admit it too.
Why couldn't my archetypal songwriter haven been Paul Simon? Or Bruce Cockburn? Or maybe even Richard Thompson? Everybody thinks they're totally hip and cool, and nobody jokes about their sappiness.
Well, know what? It just didn't work out that way for me. Fogelberg was my guy.
And so, tonight I have worked through my surface embarrassment, and gotten to a placae where I realized there were still things I wanted to say about Dan Fogelberg. And even if nobody else cares, even if everybody else thinks it's sappy, it's good catharsis for me.
There clearly are a lot of folks who share my view of Fogelberg. Just do a blog search of "Dan Fogelberg" (or, if you're lazy, click the link...) and read the things folks are writing the past few days.
I can tell you that lots of Fogelberg admirers have been stopping by here too. Here at my blog, we've had close to an entire month's of traffic just since Sunday. Lot's of folks are reading this. Others are reading this. Still others are watching the Living Legacy Videos. One of those concert clips alone has been viewed more than 10,000 times in the past four days, with several viewers leaving nice comments at my YouTube page. *
So, yes, I am not alone. There are a lot of folks out there for whom "Dan" was not just a writer of schmaltzy hits, but also the writer they most admire.
--------------------------------------------
I made a couple of iTunes playlists I'd like to share with you. This first one is interesting to me because it features four songs I'd never heard before this week. They were released as a part of the "Portraits" collection. They've never been released anywhere else. They include a scathingly honest song called "Democracy," which is perhaps Fogelberg's most biting political song:
"They've got McDonald's in the USSR
Fries and burgers in the Kremlin's backyard
Now they're learning what democracy means
Let's send them Calvin Klein jeans
Is this what democracy means?"
Every time I went to Russia, I asked myself the same thing.
So, check out these songs. They're all classic Dan in their own way.
The second iTunes playlist I call "Fogelberg Songs You Should Know." And I post it with the assumption that most of these will be unknown to most of you readers. I tried to avoid all the hits. (But...couldn't not include "Gambler"...)
See, this is the stuff I love. I love the soaring sentiment of "In the Passage." I love the edge of "As the Raven Flies." I love the cool opening riff of "These Days." I love the eerie, realm-of-the-spirits quality of "Ghosts." I love the sad story of an old woman in "Windows and Walls."
There were so many songs over those many years that nobody but the truest of "Danfans" knew. Get to know them.
Then, there were two albums of jazz music with Tim Weisberg, and one bluegrass record with folks like Ricky Skaggs. How many pop stars ever release three records like that? (Maybe one. But three?) How many of them play most of their own instruments, sing many of the vocals, and even drew cover art on occasion?
My point is, musically, Fogelberg was a heck of a lot deeper than "Longer."
And, lyrically, there was real poetry and storytelling in those songs. I've blogged about "Same Old Lang Syne" before. But the truth is it's just a well written song...really really nice images:
"She said she saw in the record store,
and that I must be doing well.
I said the audience was heavenly,
but the traveling was hell."
Or the final lines:
"The beer was empty, and our tongues were tired,
And running out of things to say.
She gave a kiss to me as I got out,
And I watched her drive away.
Just for a moment, I was back in school,
And felt that old familiar pain.
And as I turned to make my way back home,
the snow turned into rain."
Even if you've never experienced a moment like that, you can picture it, can't you? As you listen, you draw a mental image of the moment comes to life. So that when Dan inserts a real pause --right at "just for a moment I was back in school..."-- it's we listeners who suddenly pause too, and make our own trips back in time.
Having the muse to write those lines, having the sense to put in that pause, these are the things that distinguish good songs from great ones.
And, I might argue that some of Fogelberg's contributions to the Southern California Rock sound ended up inspiring even greater work later down the road. As just one example, you may remember that Joe Walsh produced Fogelberg's record "Souvenirs."
So, keeping that in mind, give another listen to "As the Raven Flies." Listen carefully to Dan and Walsh trade off on the final guitar lead that fades out the song. And as you listen, tell me you don't hear the genesis of the most famous two-lead solo ever to close a song: Hotel California.
Go ahead and try it. The similarity will jump out at you. Promise.
If there was no "Raven," would there have been a Hotel California? Would it have sounded like it did?
At the very least, Walsh credits Fogelberg as a general influence on him. Two nights ago, on Larry King, Joe Walsh said this:
"...he was an amazing song writer. I met him about 1974, as far as I can remember, and here was this really humble kid, undiscovered, with these wonderful songs, and finely crafted songs. And I brought him out to Los Angeles to try to help him do an album, and our whole community kind of took him under our wing. He was really a big influence as a song writer and a musician to us all."
Anyway, these are many of the things I still wanted to say about Fogelberg tonight.
But the final reason I wanted to write this entry was to show you how I literally produced several songs with the intent of creating an "homage" to Fogelberg. I've never admitted this before, but now seems the time.
The two most obvious examples are on the first CD: "Your Warm" and "Deep Blue Grey."
Listen to this clip of "Your Warm." Then go listen to "The Reach" by Fogelberg. Compare the ringing guitar, and the background strings....hear it?
Then, listen to this clip of "Deep Blue Grey," and I think you will hear shades of "Place in the World for a Gambler," ....especially in the bass parts and final chorus structure. (the Gambler YouTube clip is quite nice...btw...)
They don't have the same lyrical theme. But when we went to produce them, I definitely had Fogelberg in mind. Some folks chided me at the time for over-producing these CD. But tonight I am more pleased than ever that they stand as an example of how Fogelberg's music influenced mine. I'd like to believe that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. At least, that's what I was shooting for.
Well, thanks for reading this. It probably helped me more to write it than it did you to read. I'm feeling better already.
So thanks again, Dan: For all the inspiration and music that is so much a part of my own history.
* (This month, we've also had a fair number of visitors reading this blog about our Memphis trip too...)
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Goodbye to Dan Fogelberg
Dec/16/2007 09:02 PM | Permalink
I have just heard the news about Dan's death earlier
today, and am still very much at a loss for words. I
wrote
this entry
about Dan about two years ago. I probably don't have
a lot more to say today about Dan beyond than this
tribute to him, and I hope you'll consider giving it
a read tonight.
I will say, that I was thinking about Dan just two days ago, when I happened on my "Greetings from the West" video. Sat down watched the whole thing for the first time in years. Wondered at the time how Dan was doing.
Isn't it strange how sometimes we hold people in our thoughts, and are never sure why, but only later realize the reason?
The band I am in, Connections, has done a tribute show to Dan in the past few years. You can see some videos from that tribute show here. If you're in the Dallas area, I am sure we'll do a Fogelberg tribute sometime in the new year. If you sign up for my email list, I am sure you'll get the word when that comes around.
While I am very sad about Dan's passing, I am also more honored than ever to be one of those who yearns to keep his music alive. And I hope that many of you who are players and performers will consider adding some of his songs to your sets.
I know that Dan continues to have many many fans, because for the past few years people would occasionally stop by my blog to ask about his health. I never did know anything, but it taught me that he has many fans and admirers who, I am sure, are all feeling this loss tonight.
There are so many lyrics from so many songs that might be appropriate right now. I try to pay attention to the songs that pop into my head at any given moment, and the one that came to me a moment ago was "Wandering Shepherd" from High Country Snows.
It may not be his most famous song. But at this moment they'd be the words that, if I could, I'd sing to him:
Rest well, Dan...
I will say, that I was thinking about Dan just two days ago, when I happened on my "Greetings from the West" video. Sat down watched the whole thing for the first time in years. Wondered at the time how Dan was doing.
Isn't it strange how sometimes we hold people in our thoughts, and are never sure why, but only later realize the reason?
The band I am in, Connections, has done a tribute show to Dan in the past few years. You can see some videos from that tribute show here. If you're in the Dallas area, I am sure we'll do a Fogelberg tribute sometime in the new year. If you sign up for my email list, I am sure you'll get the word when that comes around.
While I am very sad about Dan's passing, I am also more honored than ever to be one of those who yearns to keep his music alive. And I hope that many of you who are players and performers will consider adding some of his songs to your sets.
I know that Dan continues to have many many fans, because for the past few years people would occasionally stop by my blog to ask about his health. I never did know anything, but it taught me that he has many fans and admirers who, I am sure, are all feeling this loss tonight.
There are so many lyrics from so many songs that might be appropriate right now. I try to pay attention to the songs that pop into my head at any given moment, and the one that came to me a moment ago was "Wandering Shepherd" from High Country Snows.
It may not be his most famous song. But at this moment they'd be the words that, if I could, I'd sing to him:
Wandering shepherd, wander no more
Wandering shepherd, wander no more
Wandering shepherd, wander no more
Lay down your troubles, your worries and woes.
Traveling pilgrim, rest for the night
Traveling pilgrim, rest for the night
Traveling pilgrim, rest for the night
Sup with the Savior and drink of his Light.
Homeless believer, find here a home
Homeless believer, find here a home
Homeless believer, find here a home
You may be lonely but never alone.
Wandering shepherd, wander no more
Wandering shepherd, wander no more
Wandering shepherd, wander no more
Lay down your troubles, your worries and woes.
Rest well, Dan...
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Glory Be Update...
Oct/30/2007 08:15 PM | Permalink
An update on
this.
I am pleased to tell you that my friend, Kathleen Baskin-Ball has received good news from her doctors. The cancer they described as so grave and life-threatening is now in complete remission.
It's one of those recoveries that everyone uses the word "miraculous" to describe. I'm just so pleased to hear the news.
Couldn't happen to a nicer person. And I'm now saying prayers of thanks.
I am pleased to tell you that my friend, Kathleen Baskin-Ball has received good news from her doctors. The cancer they described as so grave and life-threatening is now in complete remission.
It's one of those recoveries that everyone uses the word "miraculous" to describe. I'm just so pleased to hear the news.
Couldn't happen to a nicer person. And I'm now saying prayers of thanks.
James Taylor
Sep/22/2007 10:23 PM | Permalink
It's probably the epitome of cliche for me to tell
you I'm a
James Taylor
fan. Just about every guy my age who ever picked up
an acoustic guitar
has publicly pledged his troth to the music of James
Taylor. So, yeah, it's probably not hip to say this.
And, yeah, it's probably cliche.
Know what? I could care less. I'm a huge fan, and have been for years. And as both he and me have gotten older, my admiration has deepened and grown. As with Fogelberg's music, as I was learning the guitar I learned the "Greatest Hits of James Taylor." Or, I should say more accurately say that for many years I could play the chords from the song book. But what came out of my guitar never sounded close to what Taylor played. (This may be why I gravitated more to Fogelberg...at least on some of his stuff I could approximate the records...)
So it's been gratifying is that, as my playing has improved through the years, so has may ability to mimic those records. Or at least, as I often say, I've been able to get "good enough to fool most people." In fact the "carrot and stick" of playing a flawless "You've Got a Friend," or "Something in the Way She Moves," was one of the key ways my own playing improved, especially in the early years.
A part of why I am adding JT to my "balcony people" list right now is, of course, because of the tribute show tonight. Connections Band rides again with a tribute show to the music of James Taylor and Carole King. As I've mentioned, the first set will be King. The second Taylor. I suppose I ought to write an entry for Carole King too. She is arguably not the most prolific woman songwriter of a generation, but the most prolific songwriter of a generation, period. But for me personally, Taylor's the one whose music is so much a part of my cultural DNA.
"Goodnight you moonlight ladies
Rockabye sweet baby james
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose
Wont you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby james"
What I'm about to write is based on stories I've heard over the years. Is it all true? Who knows. Write a comment if I get it wrong.
Taylor's first big hit was "Fire and Rain," a song that folks have struggled for years to interpret. The bottom line is: it was a song written out of some of the deep pain of his life at the time. And had it never been written, we might never have heard the name James Taylor.
Taylor has suffered from depression and mental illness for many years, and was first hospitalized for it during high school. Drug addiction, heroin specifically, has also been a minor chord of his life for decades.
Early in his musical life, Taylor formed a band called "Flying Machine" with his lifelong friend, Danny Kortchmar. But the group bombed out, and ended up in "pieces on the ground."
A big break came after he sent a demo tape to the great Peter Asher, who would become extremely important in his career. That tape eventually led to a deal as the very first artist signed by Apple Records, the Beatles brand new label.
But even though his first record was recorded at Abbey Road, and even though George and Paul both played on it, it didn't do well. (An historical tidbit to give anyone whose record ever bombs a little comfort...)
When JT got back from England, depression and drug addiction reared their heads again. Add to this, he got the news that an old friend, Suzanne Schnerr, had committed suicide. There is some indication that perhaps Taylor's friends and family actually kept the news from him for the months he'd been in England, hoping to not upset him or interrupt the recording of that first record.
He made a couple of major appearances in 69, but the heroin was really gripping him tightly. And to top it all off, he had a motorcycle accident where he broke both of his hands!!!
At the turn of the decade he couldn't even play guitar, he'd lost a good friend to suicide, struggled with depression and drugs, seen the failure of an early band and a first record. It was looking like nobody would ever know the name James Taylor.
It's right about then that he sits down to write "Fire and Rain." That song, from his second album, would become the breakthrough smash hit that propelled him to stardom. (In fact, it caused folks to take another look at that first record, which pushed "Carolina on my Mind" into the charts almost two years after the album's release...)
It was a heady time for singer songwriters. As the decade progressed, they dominated Pop Radio. Taylor, King, Cat Stevens, Fogelberg, Harry Chapin, Carly Simon, Jackson Browne, Stephen Bishop...and no doubt a host of others I'm leaving out. Taylor was featured on the cover of Time Magazine as the quintessential American "singer-songwriter." Arguably, when folks think of that generation, it's his name they remember most. Taylor and Simon got married, and were something of an early pop-icon marriage (at least as far as singer songwriters go...)
Hits poured forth: a covers like "You've Got a Friend," and "Up on the Roof;" originals like "Something in the Way She Moves," Walking Man," and "Shower the People."
This incredible career has seen five Grammy Awards, 40 gold, platinum, and multi-platinum records, induction into the Rock and Roll and Songwriter Hall of Fames. Taylor was awarded Billboard's "Century Award," given for the highest level of creative attainment, and more recently he recieved the honor of "GrammiCares Person of the Year." On Taylor's Wikipedia site, it says this about that event:
In other words, there is no doubting that Taylor's music and career have had an influence not only on countless guys like me, but on many of today's most famous musicians.
Taylor's first "Greatest Hits" record featured new versions of "Carolina" and "Something in the Way." And although it never rose to higher than 26th place on the charts, it eventually blew away every higher charting album of that era. In fact, to this day, thirty years later, it still holds the record for second longest number of consecutive weeks on the charts. (Right behind Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon.") It stayed on those charts for 573 weeks...or eleven years!! It's sold more than 10 million copies, making it not just platinum, but the very rare "diamond" record.
Despite the professional success, Taylor was beset with personal problems. His marriage to Carly Simon was rocky. There are stories that she was often frustrated by his long touring schedule, and there are stories that his album "Dad Loves His Work" was something of a response to this. If true, this was hardly a way to keep a marriage together. Sure enough, the marriage ended two years after that record. Their children, Ben and Sally Taylor are now also both musicians, and have had some success among twenty-somethings in the past few years.
His siblings, Livingston and Kate, have also been musicians of some note. I have a couple of Livingston Taylor records, and they're all quite good.
"Oh my God, a monkey can move a man
Send him to hell
And home again
With an empty hand in the afternoon
Shooting for the moon
It's halfway sick
And it's halfway stoned
He'd sure like to kick
But it's too far gone
They wind him down with the methadone
He's all on his own"
Heroin was an addiction Taylor struggled with for much of his adult life. It no doubt colored many of his relationships, and his ability to work and produce. As successful as he's been, it's something to wonder what else might have been possible, had he not been trapped by the addiction. Add to this, as time passes and songs get more famous and take on a life of their own, and become larger than life. The demand to hear the "old stuff" outpaces the desire of fans to let an artist change and grow. I don't know, but I would guess these are issues that Taylor has struggled over the years.
As I understand, it was the death of Taylor's friend, John Belushi, that was something of a wakeup call for him concerning his life. It's mentioned in this verse from the song, "That's Why I'm Here."
"John's gone found dead he dies high he's brown bread
Later said to have drowned in his bed
After the laughter the wave of the dread
It hits us like a ton of lead
It seems "learn not to burn" means to turn on a dime
Walk on if you're walking even if it's an uphill climb
Try to remember that working's no crime
Just don't let 'em take and waste your time"
That record, "That's Why I'm Here" marked something of a return to James Taylor for me. It was roughly around the time I was discovering other contemporary songwriters (Wilcox, Gorka, Larkin, etc...) and also roughly around the time when I began to think most of the rest of pop music on the radio really sucked. It seemed like Taylor had lifted out of a fog in his life and career and was at a place where he could finally look back and see (and accept) his own place in life. In fact, it would later be said that Taylor was close to walking away from his career in the time just before this record. But then, he played an incredible show down in Rio. Taylor's Wikipedia entry tells the story:
Oh what a night wonderful one in a million
Frozen fire brazillian stars
Oh holy southern cross
If "Fire and Rain" had defined the young man --and an early life filled with pain and disappointment-- it seems to me that "That's Why I'm Here" --the album and song-- marked the beginning of a new era; a turning point for a guy who was now a little older, a little wiser, less tormented by ghosts, and much more comfortable inside his own skin. Taylor sings as much in the final verse:
"Oh, fortune and fame's such a curious game
Perfect strangers can call you by name
Pay good money to hear fire and rain
Again and again and again
Some are like summer coming back every year
Got your baby got your blanket got your bucket of beer
I break into a grin from ear to ear
And suddenly it's perfectly clear
That's why I'm here
Singin tonight, tomorrow, everyday
That's why I'm standing here
That's why I'm here"
Here's a RealPlayer video of a CBS story about James Taylor from a couple of years back. It gives a lot of nice background on him, and features him talking candidly about his life.
If you haven't heard JT's more current work, you owe it to yourself to check it out. Start with "That's Why I'm Here." But don't forget "Hourglass," "Never Die Young," and New Moon Shine. His newest record, "October Road" has song that will take you back to all those old hits, and new ones that are fresh and unique.
To me, Taylor's recent recordings and live shows have a jazz undertone to them that separates him from a lot of singersongwriters. If you listen to the chords even in his earliest records, you can hear jazz-like progressions even then. They've always been there. In fact, you could argue that, structurally, his chord progressions have always borrowed more from Jazz than from Pete Seeger. (Which may be why they're so hard for the aspiring folkie to learn...)
His 1993 Live CD is a gem, and you shouldn't miss it. It gives a great flavor of all those live shows. His live band, which has been together for years, is awesome.
I'm certainly one of those guys, coming back summer after summer to hear those songs "again and again." There is something magical about a JT concert in the summertime. I've been that guy with the "baby and beer," sitting on the lawn at StarPlex, allowing the music to take me back through time, but also right into the present too.
There is something incredible about the connection of those songs to your life and your personal history, and sense that Taylor now realizes what an honor it is to be a part of so many people's musical DNA and personal life stories. Few artists ever get to that level, really...where their songs are really part of the story so many people tell about their own history. In fact, just last Friday at the Northaven Coffeehouse, a member came up to me afterwards because I'd closed my set with two JT songs (trying to pitch tonight's show...). Everyone in the room had been singing along with every word, and he said, "Wow I'd forgotten how much a part of me those songs were."
And yet, it's also great to see how he's stayed relevant, and even thrived, in recent decades. As he knows all too painfully, some of his generation didn't make it. Some, literally. Some faded away, professionally.
But he's kept at it, and it's always been a grace-filled experience to have his music as a soundtrack for life.
"I forget what to ask for
There isn't anything I haven't been given
How could I wish for anything more
As I am here living in heaven
This moment in the sun
To feel the wheel turning on
Carry me on my way"
Know what? I could care less. I'm a huge fan, and have been for years. And as both he and me have gotten older, my admiration has deepened and grown. As with Fogelberg's music, as I was learning the guitar I learned the "Greatest Hits of James Taylor." Or, I should say more accurately say that for many years I could play the chords from the song book. But what came out of my guitar never sounded close to what Taylor played. (This may be why I gravitated more to Fogelberg...at least on some of his stuff I could approximate the records...)
So it's been gratifying is that, as my playing has improved through the years, so has may ability to mimic those records. Or at least, as I often say, I've been able to get "good enough to fool most people." In fact the "carrot and stick" of playing a flawless "You've Got a Friend," or "Something in the Way She Moves," was one of the key ways my own playing improved, especially in the early years.
A part of why I am adding JT to my "balcony people" list right now is, of course, because of the tribute show tonight. Connections Band rides again with a tribute show to the music of James Taylor and Carole King. As I've mentioned, the first set will be King. The second Taylor. I suppose I ought to write an entry for Carole King too. She is arguably not the most prolific woman songwriter of a generation, but the most prolific songwriter of a generation, period. But for me personally, Taylor's the one whose music is so much a part of my cultural DNA.
"Goodnight you moonlight ladies
Rockabye sweet baby james
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose
Wont you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby james"
What I'm about to write is based on stories I've heard over the years. Is it all true? Who knows. Write a comment if I get it wrong.
Taylor's first big hit was "Fire and Rain," a song that folks have struggled for years to interpret. The bottom line is: it was a song written out of some of the deep pain of his life at the time. And had it never been written, we might never have heard the name James Taylor.
Taylor has suffered from depression and mental illness for many years, and was first hospitalized for it during high school. Drug addiction, heroin specifically, has also been a minor chord of his life for decades.
Early in his musical life, Taylor formed a band called "Flying Machine" with his lifelong friend, Danny Kortchmar. But the group bombed out, and ended up in "pieces on the ground."
A big break came after he sent a demo tape to the great Peter Asher, who would become extremely important in his career. That tape eventually led to a deal as the very first artist signed by Apple Records, the Beatles brand new label.
But even though his first record was recorded at Abbey Road, and even though George and Paul both played on it, it didn't do well. (An historical tidbit to give anyone whose record ever bombs a little comfort...)
When JT got back from England, depression and drug addiction reared their heads again. Add to this, he got the news that an old friend, Suzanne Schnerr, had committed suicide. There is some indication that perhaps Taylor's friends and family actually kept the news from him for the months he'd been in England, hoping to not upset him or interrupt the recording of that first record.
He made a couple of major appearances in 69, but the heroin was really gripping him tightly. And to top it all off, he had a motorcycle accident where he broke both of his hands!!!
At the turn of the decade he couldn't even play guitar, he'd lost a good friend to suicide, struggled with depression and drugs, seen the failure of an early band and a first record. It was looking like nobody would ever know the name James Taylor.
It's right about then that he sits down to write "Fire and Rain." That song, from his second album, would become the breakthrough smash hit that propelled him to stardom. (In fact, it caused folks to take another look at that first record, which pushed "Carolina on my Mind" into the charts almost two years after the album's release...)
It was a heady time for singer songwriters. As the decade progressed, they dominated Pop Radio. Taylor, King, Cat Stevens, Fogelberg, Harry Chapin, Carly Simon, Jackson Browne, Stephen Bishop...and no doubt a host of others I'm leaving out. Taylor was featured on the cover of Time Magazine as the quintessential American "singer-songwriter." Arguably, when folks think of that generation, it's his name they remember most. Taylor and Simon got married, and were something of an early pop-icon marriage (at least as far as singer songwriters go...)
Hits poured forth: a covers like "You've Got a Friend," and "Up on the Roof;" originals like "Something in the Way She Moves," Walking Man," and "Shower the People."
This incredible career has seen five Grammy Awards, 40 gold, platinum, and multi-platinum records, induction into the Rock and Roll and Songwriter Hall of Fames. Taylor was awarded Billboard's "Century Award," given for the highest level of creative attainment, and more recently he recieved the honor of "GrammiCares Person of the Year." On Taylor's Wikipedia site, it says this about that event:
"At a black tie ceremony held in Los Angeles, musicians from several eras paid tribute to Taylor by performing his songs, often prefacing them with remarks on his influence on their decisions to become musicians. These artists included Carole King, Bruce Springsteen, Sting, Taj Mahal, Dr. John, Bonnie Raitt, Jackson Browne, David Crosby, Sheryl Crow, India.Arie, the Dixie Chicks, Jerry Douglas, Alison Krauss, and Keith Urban. Paul Simon performed as well, although he was not included in the televised program..."
In other words, there is no doubting that Taylor's music and career have had an influence not only on countless guys like me, but on many of today's most famous musicians.
Taylor's first "Greatest Hits" record featured new versions of "Carolina" and "Something in the Way." And although it never rose to higher than 26th place on the charts, it eventually blew away every higher charting album of that era. In fact, to this day, thirty years later, it still holds the record for second longest number of consecutive weeks on the charts. (Right behind Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon.") It stayed on those charts for 573 weeks...or eleven years!! It's sold more than 10 million copies, making it not just platinum, but the very rare "diamond" record.
Despite the professional success, Taylor was beset with personal problems. His marriage to Carly Simon was rocky. There are stories that she was often frustrated by his long touring schedule, and there are stories that his album "Dad Loves His Work" was something of a response to this. If true, this was hardly a way to keep a marriage together. Sure enough, the marriage ended two years after that record. Their children, Ben and Sally Taylor are now also both musicians, and have had some success among twenty-somethings in the past few years.
His siblings, Livingston and Kate, have also been musicians of some note. I have a couple of Livingston Taylor records, and they're all quite good.
"Oh my God, a monkey can move a man
Send him to hell
And home again
With an empty hand in the afternoon
Shooting for the moon
It's halfway sick
And it's halfway stoned
He'd sure like to kick
But it's too far gone
They wind him down with the methadone
He's all on his own"
Heroin was an addiction Taylor struggled with for much of his adult life. It no doubt colored many of his relationships, and his ability to work and produce. As successful as he's been, it's something to wonder what else might have been possible, had he not been trapped by the addiction. Add to this, as time passes and songs get more famous and take on a life of their own, and become larger than life. The demand to hear the "old stuff" outpaces the desire of fans to let an artist change and grow. I don't know, but I would guess these are issues that Taylor has struggled over the years.
As I understand, it was the death of Taylor's friend, John Belushi, that was something of a wakeup call for him concerning his life. It's mentioned in this verse from the song, "That's Why I'm Here."
"John's gone found dead he dies high he's brown bread
Later said to have drowned in his bed
After the laughter the wave of the dread
It hits us like a ton of lead
It seems "learn not to burn" means to turn on a dime
Walk on if you're walking even if it's an uphill climb
Try to remember that working's no crime
Just don't let 'em take and waste your time"
That record, "That's Why I'm Here" marked something of a return to James Taylor for me. It was roughly around the time I was discovering other contemporary songwriters (Wilcox, Gorka, Larkin, etc...) and also roughly around the time when I began to think most of the rest of pop music on the radio really sucked. It seemed like Taylor had lifted out of a fog in his life and career and was at a place where he could finally look back and see (and accept) his own place in life. In fact, it would later be said that Taylor was close to walking away from his career in the time just before this record. But then, he played an incredible show down in Rio. Taylor's Wikipedia entry tells the story:
"He was quoted in various interviews that he was thinking of retiring after fulfilling his last contractual obligation, the Rock In Rio in 1985. However, he was surprised by the reception of the audience on Saturday, January 12 (there were 250,000 people, the biggest attendance of the 10-day festival), when he performed right before George Benson. Two days later, they were scheduled to perform in the same order, but because Taylor's extended performance had caused a delay to Benson's on Saturday, Benson proposed that they switch the order. Taylor ended up the finale in this second performance. Buoyed by the audience's reception, he decided to take back his life and his career. (Sixteen years later, on January 12, 2001, he played the very same site, at the opening night of the third Rock in Rio, whose organizer, Roberto Medina, described Taylor to the Brazilian press then as "his good luck charm".) The song "Only a Dream in Rio" was written in tribute to that night...The album, That's Why I'm Here, from which that song came, started a series of studio recordings that, while spaced further apart than his previous records, showed a more consistent level of quality and fewer covers."
Oh what a night wonderful one in a million
Frozen fire brazillian stars
Oh holy southern cross
If "Fire and Rain" had defined the young man --and an early life filled with pain and disappointment-- it seems to me that "That's Why I'm Here" --the album and song-- marked the beginning of a new era; a turning point for a guy who was now a little older, a little wiser, less tormented by ghosts, and much more comfortable inside his own skin. Taylor sings as much in the final verse:
"Oh, fortune and fame's such a curious game
Perfect strangers can call you by name
Pay good money to hear fire and rain
Again and again and again
Some are like summer coming back every year
Got your baby got your blanket got your bucket of beer
I break into a grin from ear to ear
And suddenly it's perfectly clear
That's why I'm here
Singin tonight, tomorrow, everyday
That's why I'm standing here
That's why I'm here"
Here's a RealPlayer video of a CBS story about James Taylor from a couple of years back. It gives a lot of nice background on him, and features him talking candidly about his life.
If you haven't heard JT's more current work, you owe it to yourself to check it out. Start with "That's Why I'm Here." But don't forget "Hourglass," "Never Die Young," and New Moon Shine. His newest record, "October Road" has song that will take you back to all those old hits, and new ones that are fresh and unique.
To me, Taylor's recent recordings and live shows have a jazz undertone to them that separates him from a lot of singersongwriters. If you listen to the chords even in his earliest records, you can hear jazz-like progressions even then. They've always been there. In fact, you could argue that, structurally, his chord progressions have always borrowed more from Jazz than from Pete Seeger. (Which may be why they're so hard for the aspiring folkie to learn...)
His 1993 Live CD is a gem, and you shouldn't miss it. It gives a great flavor of all those live shows. His live band, which has been together for years, is awesome.
I'm certainly one of those guys, coming back summer after summer to hear those songs "again and again." There is something magical about a JT concert in the summertime. I've been that guy with the "baby and beer," sitting on the lawn at StarPlex, allowing the music to take me back through time, but also right into the present too.
There is something incredible about the connection of those songs to your life and your personal history, and sense that Taylor now realizes what an honor it is to be a part of so many people's musical DNA and personal life stories. Few artists ever get to that level, really...where their songs are really part of the story so many people tell about their own history. In fact, just last Friday at the Northaven Coffeehouse, a member came up to me afterwards because I'd closed my set with two JT songs (trying to pitch tonight's show...). Everyone in the room had been singing along with every word, and he said, "Wow I'd forgotten how much a part of me those songs were."
And yet, it's also great to see how he's stayed relevant, and even thrived, in recent decades. As he knows all too painfully, some of his generation didn't make it. Some, literally. Some faded away, professionally.
But he's kept at it, and it's always been a grace-filled experience to have his music as a soundtrack for life.
"I forget what to ask for
There isn't anything I haven't been given
How could I wish for anything more
As I am here living in heaven
This moment in the sun
To feel the wheel turning on
Carry me on my way"
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High School Heroes
Jun/26/2007 07:16 AM | Permalink
There is virtually no higher honor for a high school
student than meeting the President of the United
States. Only a select few kids ever get the chance.
And, usually, it's a high school hero of some
distinction: National Spelling Bee Winner, High
School Football Champions, Boy Scout Troops.
Yesterday afternoon, it was a group of Presidential Scholars. The President had invited them to the White House to congratulate them on their award, and to use the occasion to reauthorize the "No Child Left Behind" act.
Presidential Scholars are smart kids. According to a Washington Post story this morning, it's a high honor that very few kids get:
"Each year the program selects one male and one female student from each state, the District of Columbia, Puerto Rico, Americans living abroad, 15 at-large students, and up to 20 students in the arts on the basis of outstanding scholarship, service, leadership and creativity."
Not only do these kids get to meet the President, but they also attend lectures and seminars all over Washington, with government officials and elected representatives, during the month of June.
These are smart kids.
These are bright kids.
These are the kind of kids that serve as vessels for our collective hopes and dreams for the future.
When the President met with 50-some of these kids yesterday, they handed him a handwritten letter. Apparently, it was a letter stating some of their heartfelt concerns.
Now even though these are smart kids, they're still kids. So you had to wonder: what crucial issue would be on their minds and hearts, compelling them to speak to the President directly about it?
Were they requesting presidential pardon for Paris Hilton?
Suggesting Ludacris tunes for his iPod?
Offering him a Haiku about Sanjaya?
Nope. None of these. Instead, the handwritten note implored the President to uphold the Geneva Conventions.
The concern on these high school kid's hearts was torture; and told the President that they "believe we have a responsibility to voice our convictions."
Here's a part of their letter:
"We do not want America to represent torture. We urge you to do all in your power to stop violations of the human rights of detainees, to cease illegal renditions, and to apply the Geneva Convention to all detainees, including those designated enemy combatants..."
I can promise you what you will hear in the media today. On right-wing-talk-radio, you will hear that these kids ambushed the President. They will call it disgraceful that these kids took an innocent and non-political event, and injected politics into it.
But, of course, they did nothing of the sort.
It was, in fact, the President's staff who was atttempted to use them as window dressing at the reauthorization of "No Child Left Behind." His staff put politics into it. They just chose to speak their mind too.
We'll probably also hear that not all of the President Scholars signed on to this letter.
I am sure this is the case. In any group of smart, free-thinking kids, there will be those who choose not to go with the group.
But neither of these is the thing I will remember from this story.
What I will remember is the courage it took for these high school kids --who were guests in the White House-- to speak out boldly about what they believe.
The power differential between a high school kid and the President of the United States is pretty vast. The possibility of retaliation by others, or the loss of career opportunities, is real. They had no power to wield, and everything to lose. Given this, the pressure to stand quietly, smile meekly, take pics for your MySpace page, and then just go home, must have been intense.
But they didn't do that. They did much more than that. They chose to speak their "truth" to the most powerful "power" in the world.
And whether you agree with them or disagree with them, you have to admit that it takes a lot of courage to do what they did.
And for this, I'd have to say that these are smart kids. They give me some hope about the future.
They are real high school heroes.
Yesterday afternoon, it was a group of Presidential Scholars. The President had invited them to the White House to congratulate them on their award, and to use the occasion to reauthorize the "No Child Left Behind" act.
Presidential Scholars are smart kids. According to a Washington Post story this morning, it's a high honor that very few kids get:
"Each year the program selects one male and one female student from each state, the District of Columbia, Puerto Rico, Americans living abroad, 15 at-large students, and up to 20 students in the arts on the basis of outstanding scholarship, service, leadership and creativity."
Not only do these kids get to meet the President, but they also attend lectures and seminars all over Washington, with government officials and elected representatives, during the month of June.
These are smart kids.
These are bright kids.
These are the kind of kids that serve as vessels for our collective hopes and dreams for the future.
When the President met with 50-some of these kids yesterday, they handed him a handwritten letter. Apparently, it was a letter stating some of their heartfelt concerns.
Now even though these are smart kids, they're still kids. So you had to wonder: what crucial issue would be on their minds and hearts, compelling them to speak to the President directly about it?
Were they requesting presidential pardon for Paris Hilton?
Suggesting Ludacris tunes for his iPod?
Offering him a Haiku about Sanjaya?
Nope. None of these. Instead, the handwritten note implored the President to uphold the Geneva Conventions.
The concern on these high school kid's hearts was torture; and told the President that they "believe we have a responsibility to voice our convictions."
Here's a part of their letter:
"We do not want America to represent torture. We urge you to do all in your power to stop violations of the human rights of detainees, to cease illegal renditions, and to apply the Geneva Convention to all detainees, including those designated enemy combatants..."
I can promise you what you will hear in the media today. On right-wing-talk-radio, you will hear that these kids ambushed the President. They will call it disgraceful that these kids took an innocent and non-political event, and injected politics into it.
But, of course, they did nothing of the sort.
It was, in fact, the President's staff who was atttempted to use them as window dressing at the reauthorization of "No Child Left Behind." His staff put politics into it. They just chose to speak their mind too.
We'll probably also hear that not all of the President Scholars signed on to this letter.
I am sure this is the case. In any group of smart, free-thinking kids, there will be those who choose not to go with the group.
But neither of these is the thing I will remember from this story.
What I will remember is the courage it took for these high school kids --who were guests in the White House-- to speak out boldly about what they believe.
The power differential between a high school kid and the President of the United States is pretty vast. The possibility of retaliation by others, or the loss of career opportunities, is real. They had no power to wield, and everything to lose. Given this, the pressure to stand quietly, smile meekly, take pics for your MySpace page, and then just go home, must have been intense.
But they didn't do that. They did much more than that. They chose to speak their "truth" to the most powerful "power" in the world.
And whether you agree with them or disagree with them, you have to admit that it takes a lot of courage to do what they did.
And for this, I'd have to say that these are smart kids. They give me some hope about the future.
They are real high school heroes.
Connor's Army
Jun/23/2007 10:28 AM | Permalink
Gene Conner is another of my great old friends. I met
him at SMU, in the residence halls. He was part of my
all-star-RA-staff the last year I was in seminary. In
college, Gene was a dance major. He was
great
dancer. I still remember the afternoon Gene was part
of a brownbag series over at the Meadows School. Many
of us from that tight RA staff went over to watch him
dance to the Indigo Girl's "Blood and Fire." That
that CD was something of a soundtrack for that last
year of our lives in school. (for many of us...)
Here's the whole staff, down at the old downtown Chuy's:
Gene's on the far right. That's me next to him. Yep, promise it is.
(Others from right: Patrick Lea, Shannon Brown, Dennise, Carolyn Herter, Rafael Anchia, Shannon Breaux, and Chris Wilmoth)
Here's Carolyn, me, Gene, and Dennise on graduation day in front of Letterman Hall:
Yes, I had hair then.
Gene moved to New York after school and he did dance for some time there. Eventually, he settled in to a career as a teacher, married a wonderful woman, and had some great kids. (They must be...they're Gene's...).
But Gene has something else that sets him apart from all my other friends. And it's not a distinction he --or anyone else for that matter-- would ever want. Gene Connor, and his family, has been touched by the scourge of cancer more than anyone else I know.
As Gene tells it, until he reached adulthood he'd never really thought much about cancer. A few folks had it along the way...a grandmother, a great-uncle, a friend of the family. But he was young, they were somewhat distant, and it didn't strike close.
That all changed in 2005.
First, Gene's wife's grandmother --a beloved member of the family-- died. That was quickly followed by his uncle. Then his wife's aunt. Then a colleague from work. Somewhere in this, Gene also learned that his mother --who had ben out of his life for some years, and only recently reconnected-- had also had cancer somewhere along the way.
That would have been enough. I mean, that's five close family members and friend in a period of just a few years.
But that's not half the story...
Somewhere in the midst of all this, his sister also got cancer.
The very next year, another of his sisters got cancer.
A year after that? A third sister got cancer.
Three sisters in less than three years. Plus the other five close friends and family....eight people in all, in the span of just a few years.
How could this be?!!! he wondered. What is going on here?!!!
Obviously, he was there for his family, providing emotional support to them (Gene's a very kind soul...). But what a load to carry, and what a struggle to keep hope.
Then, he started thinking, What if this isn't over? What if it happens again to someone else I love?
That's when Gene knew he had to do MORE.
So, Gene decided to do something he knew he could do to help. He decided to ride his bike.
Gene decided to ride his bike 2000 miles over the span of one year, and to use that goal to raise money for the American Cancer Society. Thus "Connor's Army" was born; a movement of friends, family, and other supporters that are helping Gene make this goal.
His goal is to raise $10,000. The year is just about half gone, and Gene is just about halfway to the goal. I could not be prouder of my old friend. But often, the last half of a goal is harder to reach than the first. And so, I'd like to urge you all to join in.
Become a part of Connor's Army, and help Gene make his goal. You can do that by going right here.
Here's a part of Gene's plea for you to be involved:
"Now please understand. I'm no Lance Armstrong. I cycle to work and occasionally for pleasure, but by the end of 2006 I logged about 1,500 commuting miles. And in 2007 I plan to push myself as I raise money for the American Cancer Society. In 2007 every drop I sweat will be in gratitude for Winnie, Angela and TaMara. In 2007 every hill I struggle up will be for my children. In 2007 every mile I ride will be to help beat this disease that ravages the lives of everyday people. In 2007 you can join the battle, too, by joining Connor's Army in the war against cancer.
Help make 2007 the year everyone facing cancer knows that they're not doing battle on their own."
One of the cool things about the internet is that it allows us to make connections we would never otherwise make. Most of you would never know Gene. But this blog lets you know him a bit, giving you the chance to connect with an average guy trying to make a difference.
It's a great story, it's all true, and I'm proud to say it's the story of a friend who's certainly one of my "Balcony People." Gene has made the choice not to be a victim, but to be a fighter.
I hope you'll be inspired to help him, and I hope you'll give generous
Here's the whole staff, down at the old downtown Chuy's:
Gene's on the far right. That's me next to him. Yep, promise it is.
(Others from right: Patrick Lea, Shannon Brown, Dennise, Carolyn Herter, Rafael Anchia, Shannon Breaux, and Chris Wilmoth)
Here's Carolyn, me, Gene, and Dennise on graduation day in front of Letterman Hall:
Yes, I had hair then.
Gene moved to New York after school and he did dance for some time there. Eventually, he settled in to a career as a teacher, married a wonderful woman, and had some great kids. (They must be...they're Gene's...).
But Gene has something else that sets him apart from all my other friends. And it's not a distinction he --or anyone else for that matter-- would ever want. Gene Connor, and his family, has been touched by the scourge of cancer more than anyone else I know.
As Gene tells it, until he reached adulthood he'd never really thought much about cancer. A few folks had it along the way...a grandmother, a great-uncle, a friend of the family. But he was young, they were somewhat distant, and it didn't strike close.
That all changed in 2005.
First, Gene's wife's grandmother --a beloved member of the family-- died. That was quickly followed by his uncle. Then his wife's aunt. Then a colleague from work. Somewhere in this, Gene also learned that his mother --who had ben out of his life for some years, and only recently reconnected-- had also had cancer somewhere along the way.
That would have been enough. I mean, that's five close family members and friend in a period of just a few years.
But that's not half the story...
Somewhere in the midst of all this, his sister also got cancer.
The very next year, another of his sisters got cancer.
A year after that? A third sister got cancer.
Three sisters in less than three years. Plus the other five close friends and family....eight people in all, in the span of just a few years.
How could this be?!!! he wondered. What is going on here?!!!
Obviously, he was there for his family, providing emotional support to them (Gene's a very kind soul...). But what a load to carry, and what a struggle to keep hope.
Then, he started thinking, What if this isn't over? What if it happens again to someone else I love?
That's when Gene knew he had to do MORE.
So, Gene decided to do something he knew he could do to help. He decided to ride his bike.
Gene decided to ride his bike 2000 miles over the span of one year, and to use that goal to raise money for the American Cancer Society. Thus "Connor's Army" was born; a movement of friends, family, and other supporters that are helping Gene make this goal.
His goal is to raise $10,000. The year is just about half gone, and Gene is just about halfway to the goal. I could not be prouder of my old friend. But often, the last half of a goal is harder to reach than the first. And so, I'd like to urge you all to join in.
Become a part of Connor's Army, and help Gene make his goal. You can do that by going right here.
Here's a part of Gene's plea for you to be involved:
"Now please understand. I'm no Lance Armstrong. I cycle to work and occasionally for pleasure, but by the end of 2006 I logged about 1,500 commuting miles. And in 2007 I plan to push myself as I raise money for the American Cancer Society. In 2007 every drop I sweat will be in gratitude for Winnie, Angela and TaMara. In 2007 every hill I struggle up will be for my children. In 2007 every mile I ride will be to help beat this disease that ravages the lives of everyday people. In 2007 you can join the battle, too, by joining Connor's Army in the war against cancer.
Help make 2007 the year everyone facing cancer knows that they're not doing battle on their own."
One of the cool things about the internet is that it allows us to make connections we would never otherwise make. Most of you would never know Gene. But this blog lets you know him a bit, giving you the chance to connect with an average guy trying to make a difference.
It's a great story, it's all true, and I'm proud to say it's the story of a friend who's certainly one of my "Balcony People." Gene has made the choice not to be a victim, but to be a fighter.
I hope you'll be inspired to help him, and I hope you'll give generous
Sheron Patterson
May/08/2007 10:52 PM | Permalink
Incredibly,
another clergy friend has cancer. This time,
it's my old friend, Sheron Patterson. Sheron is
probably known to some of you. She occasionally
writes op-eds for the Morning News, and appears
in other media settings. So, if you think you
recognize her, you probably do.
Sometime after my friend Kathleen Baskin announced her cancer, Sheron also went public with her breast cancer diagnosis too. I was watching the news just night to discover that she had surgery just today. I knew she had cancer. What I didn't know until I watched the news just a couple of minutes ago was that her surgery was today.
So, I am writing this quick blog tonight, and asking for your prayers for her as well. Sheron and I were at Perkins School of Theology at the same time. We shared several classes together, but there's been way too much time pass for either of us to remember what they were now. What brought us together is that we'd both been journalism majors in college. Sheron also later became good friends with one of my residence hall bosses (Jennifer). Sheron, her husband Robert, Jennifer and I went out to dinner a couple of times back in those days.
Sheron and I were ordained around the same time. That's not significant. But her's was on its own, because she was the first African American woman ever ordained in the North Texas Conference. That seems hard to imagine. Then again, given other "firsts" I've seen even more recently, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.
Like most of my other friends, I don't see her as much as I should these days. (Frankly, I am beginning to seriously contemplate just how troubling that is. How do we let friends just slip away and not keep up?)
Here's her website, where you can find all sorts of info. into the many great facets of her life. And here's an essay into today's DMN that talks about today's surgery. Here's the story FOX4 did tonight.
I am thinking and praying for Sheron tonight, and I hope you will too.
Kathleen Baskin-Ball
Apr/12/2007 07:17 AM | Permalink
Kathleen Baskin-Ball has cancer. She's been fighting
cancer for several months, and I have a good idea
she's going to beat it.
There is a benefit concert for her coming up on April 22, and I wanted you all to know about it.
"The Power of a Song: An Evening with Nashville Songwriters"
benefitting Rev. Kathleen Baskin-Ball
Sunday, April 22, 2007 from 5 PM until 7:30 PM
Doors will open at 4:30 PM.
First United Methodist Church, sanctuary
503 North Central Expressway | Richardson, Texas 75080
The show will feature Nashville songwriters Nicole Witt, Don Poythress, Celia Whitler, and Billy Montana. You can learn more about these songwriters at Celia's website here.
Here's some of the public information that's been posted about Kathleen's cancer:
Celia has been a friend of mine for many years, and I'm really pleased to hear that she's putting on this show for our mutual friend, Kathleen. The artists featured that night are both country and inspirational. And , knowing Celia, they will all be top-notch.
There is no question that Kathleen is one of my own personal-living-saints and "balcony people." Kathleen has been a good friend and colleague of mine for years. Almost every time somebody gets cancer, their friends say "why them?" And sometimes, our selfish sides say "why not someone else?"
Lots of folks are saying that about Kathleen. She is such a beacon of light and hope for so many people, and her own life has been a story of overcoming obstacles, and rising from challenging times to new life and hope.
Kathleen and I are ministry colleagues, but we are also good friends. For many years, we were in a once-a-month study group together, where we not only read books, but also shared what was going on in our lives and in our hearts. The "Listening for God" group is still an important part of who I am. And even though we don't all see each other as much now, they are still some of my closest friends.
Kathleen's been through many ups and downs. Early in her ministry, she was appointed to West Dallas, and served a small church there. She not only served that church well, but also lived among the people there in West Dallas. Bilingual and filled with a heart for service, she worked long hours to bring hope to that challenging part of the city. There are very likely young people alive today because of her ministry.
She moved from there to Greenland Hills UMC, where even in a more suburban setting, she continued to push the envelope and challenge her congregation to reach out and include those who are traditionally marginalized by the church.
She struggled through a difficult marriage, and a painful divorce during that period. Sometimes, you can love and admire both halves of couple, care for them both, and still see how they just can't make it work, you know? It was like that.
And so it was that, single again, Kathleen began a period of hoping for her own future. Which, believe it or not, would take a dramatic turn at my CD release party in early 2001.
Kathleen, good friend that she is, decided to come to Poor David's Pub that night. Lots of the single adults that I worked with at HPUMC were also there. Among them, a thirty-something man named Bill Ball. (Follow this link, and you can actually see Bill in the "Shots of the Crowd" pic from the CD Release Party. To my left, he's on the front row, three people in from the center aisle. Amazing that out of the 200-or-so folks there you can actually see him....) Bill was very active in our largest singles class. He, his Mom and his sister, all attended the chapel service I preached each week too.
So, I knew Kathleen well from one part of my life. I knew Bill well from another. But I had no idea that they'd ever known each other. Turns out, when he was just a youth and she was a very young minister, they had known each other at the Annual Conference level. But now, it was...what...fifteen years later? And there they both were, at my CD release party.
The week after, they both called me individually. Each conversations went something like this:
"Hey, enjoyed your CD release party."
"Thanks, (Bill/Kathleen)."
"Hey, I noticed that (Bill Ball/Kathleen Baskin) was there."
"Oh yeah, do you know (him/her)?"
"Yeah, we used to know each other years ago..."
"Oh...cool."
I would make a terrible matchmaker, BTW. I was too dense to put...ahem...two-and-two together. In retrospect, the neon lights should have been flashing and the sirens going off. I do remember wondering, for half a second, why these folks were each calling me about each other. But I quickly put it out of my mind.
But sparks did fly. Romance blossomed. And when it's right, sometimes it hits you hard and quick, and you just "know." So it was that they were married in a matter of months.
Who woulda thunk that lives would changed --destinies be sealed-- at Poor David's Pub?! (aside: It ought to give you pause. Who knows what might happen to you if you come to one of my shows?)
And of all the many ministers they know, I was deeply honored to be the one chosen to preside over their wedding. It was a wonderful night of celebration.
Then came the challenge of trying to have a child. It took a while, and a lot of medical help, buteventually their beautiful son, Skylar, was born. I can't think of two more loving and caring people, and two more loving and caring parents. Bill is such a kind and generous soul himself, and you always feel like a better person just to be in the presence of them both.
So now, just a few years after this, when life seemed to be going really well, it turns out Kathleen has cancer. And as I said, it hardly seems fair. But then, when I step back, when is cancer ever fair? I know that. And yet, when it happens to a soul as beautiful as Kathleen, even the part of me that knows that asks "why?"
Kathleen, from what I can tell, is not spending a lot of time asking "why?" She's fighting. She's fighting hard. And by all accounts, she's beating the odds. She was given a three month prognosis that she's already beaten. Beating the odds is the first step toward winning this battle.
You can learn more about Kathleen here.
And you can listen to some of her great sermons here.
If you can't make the show, you can still make a contribution here:
Checks should be made payable to Suncreek United Methodist Church
and can be mailed to 1517 West McDermott Drive Allen, Texas 75013.
(Write "Glory Be! Fund" in the memo blank.)
I am not kidding you when I tell you that I pray for her everyday. I pray for Bill and Skyler too, and for all of us who love her dearly.
She and Bill were brought together through the "Power of a Song," and so I know this show will be a special one.
Just knowing Kathleen, I have the faith that she's going to beat this.
There's too much for her to do, too much life to be lived, here among us.
There is a benefit concert for her coming up on April 22, and I wanted you all to know about it.
"The Power of a Song: An Evening with Nashville Songwriters"
benefitting Rev. Kathleen Baskin-Ball
Sunday, April 22, 2007 from 5 PM until 7:30 PM
Doors will open at 4:30 PM.
First United Methodist Church, sanctuary
503 North Central Expressway | Richardson, Texas 75080
The show will feature Nashville songwriters Nicole Witt, Don Poythress, Celia Whitler, and Billy Montana. You can learn more about these songwriters at Celia's website here.
Here's some of the public information that's been posted about Kathleen's cancer:
4
Kathleen
recently learned that she has neuroendrocrine
carcinoma. She had a mass of cancer about the size of
a baseball in her chest cavity near her heart and
lungs and extensive cancer throughout her liver. They
are not sure where the cancer originated in her body.
The cancer was growing very rapidly. Kathleen started
her first round of chemotherapy in early January. She
plans to continue having 3 days of chemotherapy
treatment every 21 days until she completes 6 rounds
of chemotherapy. We have a lot of hope that she can
win this battle with cancer. At the end of January,
she received some encouraging test results indicating
that the cancer was responding to chemotherapy. She
continues to preach most Sundays and to work in the
church office. She reduces her office hours as
needed.
Celia has been a friend of mine for many years, and I'm really pleased to hear that she's putting on this show for our mutual friend, Kathleen. The artists featured that night are both country and inspirational. And , knowing Celia, they will all be top-notch.
There is no question that Kathleen is one of my own personal-living-saints and "balcony people." Kathleen has been a good friend and colleague of mine for years. Almost every time somebody gets cancer, their friends say "why them?" And sometimes, our selfish sides say "why not someone else?"
Lots of folks are saying that about Kathleen. She is such a beacon of light and hope for so many people, and her own life has been a story of overcoming obstacles, and rising from challenging times to new life and hope.
Kathleen and I are ministry colleagues, but we are also good friends. For many years, we were in a once-a-month study group together, where we not only read books, but also shared what was going on in our lives and in our hearts. The "Listening for God" group is still an important part of who I am. And even though we don't all see each other as much now, they are still some of my closest friends.
Kathleen's been through many ups and downs. Early in her ministry, she was appointed to West Dallas, and served a small church there. She not only served that church well, but also lived among the people there in West Dallas. Bilingual and filled with a heart for service, she worked long hours to bring hope to that challenging part of the city. There are very likely young people alive today because of her ministry.
She moved from there to Greenland Hills UMC, where even in a more suburban setting, she continued to push the envelope and challenge her congregation to reach out and include those who are traditionally marginalized by the church.
She struggled through a difficult marriage, and a painful divorce during that period. Sometimes, you can love and admire both halves of couple, care for them both, and still see how they just can't make it work, you know? It was like that.
And so it was that, single again, Kathleen began a period of hoping for her own future. Which, believe it or not, would take a dramatic turn at my CD release party in early 2001.
Kathleen, good friend that she is, decided to come to Poor David's Pub that night. Lots of the single adults that I worked with at HPUMC were also there. Among them, a thirty-something man named Bill Ball. (Follow this link, and you can actually see Bill in the "Shots of the Crowd" pic from the CD Release Party. To my left, he's on the front row, three people in from the center aisle. Amazing that out of the 200-or-so folks there you can actually see him....) Bill was very active in our largest singles class. He, his Mom and his sister, all attended the chapel service I preached each week too.
So, I knew Kathleen well from one part of my life. I knew Bill well from another. But I had no idea that they'd ever known each other. Turns out, when he was just a youth and she was a very young minister, they had known each other at the Annual Conference level. But now, it was...what...fifteen years later? And there they both were, at my CD release party.
The week after, they both called me individually. Each conversations went something like this:
"Hey, enjoyed your CD release party."
"Thanks, (Bill/Kathleen)."
"Hey, I noticed that (Bill Ball/Kathleen Baskin) was there."
"Oh yeah, do you know (him/her)?"
"Yeah, we used to know each other years ago..."
"Oh...cool."
I would make a terrible matchmaker, BTW. I was too dense to put...ahem...two-and-two together. In retrospect, the neon lights should have been flashing and the sirens going off. I do remember wondering, for half a second, why these folks were each calling me about each other. But I quickly put it out of my mind.
But sparks did fly. Romance blossomed. And when it's right, sometimes it hits you hard and quick, and you just "know." So it was that they were married in a matter of months.
Who woulda thunk that lives would changed --destinies be sealed-- at Poor David's Pub?! (aside: It ought to give you pause. Who knows what might happen to you if you come to one of my shows?)
And of all the many ministers they know, I was deeply honored to be the one chosen to preside over their wedding. It was a wonderful night of celebration.
Then came the challenge of trying to have a child. It took a while, and a lot of medical help, buteventually their beautiful son, Skylar, was born. I can't think of two more loving and caring people, and two more loving and caring parents. Bill is such a kind and generous soul himself, and you always feel like a better person just to be in the presence of them both.
So now, just a few years after this, when life seemed to be going really well, it turns out Kathleen has cancer. And as I said, it hardly seems fair. But then, when I step back, when is cancer ever fair? I know that. And yet, when it happens to a soul as beautiful as Kathleen, even the part of me that knows that asks "why?"
Kathleen, from what I can tell, is not spending a lot of time asking "why?" She's fighting. She's fighting hard. And by all accounts, she's beating the odds. She was given a three month prognosis that she's already beaten. Beating the odds is the first step toward winning this battle.
You can learn more about Kathleen here.
And you can listen to some of her great sermons here.
If you can't make the show, you can still make a contribution here:
Checks should be made payable to Suncreek United Methodist Church
and can be mailed to 1517 West McDermott Drive Allen, Texas 75013.
(Write "Glory Be! Fund" in the memo blank.)
I am not kidding you when I tell you that I pray for her everyday. I pray for Bill and Skyler too, and for all of us who love her dearly.
She and Bill were brought together through the "Power of a Song," and so I know this show will be a special one.
Just knowing Kathleen, I have the faith that she's going to beat this.
There's too much for her to do, too much life to be lived, here among us.
Annie Benjamin
Mar/28/2007 07:39 AM | Permalink
Annie Benjamin is probably my oldest musician
friend.* I met Annie years ago, when she had just
moved back to Dallas from New York, and when I had
just begun having the courage to play songs in front
of anyone.
We both became regulars at a couple of open mics around town. One was at the old Poor David's Pub on Greenville, where Bill Seely was the host. The other was down in Deep Ellum at the Commerce Street Ice House, and was hosted by Bob Ackerman.
Lots of folks drifted in and out of those open mics, but Annie and me were regulars. Later on, she and some of her friends from the band Chattervox started a songwriter group down on Greenville Avenue. We'd meet at a Starbucks there, once a month, to exchange songs we were working on, share writing ideas, and get critique.
That's where I first met Lisa Markely and Beth Cahill, Annie's Chattervox mates. It's also where I first met Bill Nash and Cary Cooper. It was quite a group. I think some folks still find it hard to believe we were all a part of it. And I still miss it quite a bit.
Annie's a good friend, and a great person. She's not just a great musician, but also an involved community activist. She sang on my first CD, lending her voice to "The Sun is Gonna Show," and "The Peace." And her last CD came out that same year. She's been to a lot of my gigs through the years, and vice versa. She and some of those aforementioned songwriter friends came to my CD release and sang with me that night.
I mention all this because Annie's new CD is now done. The CD Release Party for "Some Kind of Wonder" is this coming Sunday, April 1st. And if you are free, you should go.
Here are the details:
CD Release Party for "Some Kind of Wonder"
Sunday, April 1
5:00 pm until 8:00pm
no cover charge, bring donations
Bath House Cultural Center
521 E. Lawther Drive
Dallas, TX
www.bathhousecultural.com
214-670-8749
You can get more info on Annie and her music at her website.
While there, you can listen to soundclips from the new CD, and find out more about this great performer.
I don't see Annie nearly as much as I should these past few years. I bumped into her at the big peace rally, just before the war, and she asked me to sing with her on one of her songs. But, good lord, that's four years ago now! So, I see her now and then, but not nearly enough.
I understand that she's resurrected the songwriter group here and there, and that's a good thing. She works hard to book regular solo gigs, and gigs with her current band, "Rocketgirl." She also sometime performs classical flute, and can sometimes be head at the DMA.
Annie has always been a great encourager of other artists, and I have always been proud to call her friend. She works hard at what she does, forges her own path, and always challenging herself to grow musically and artistically.
What I've heard of the new CD is fantastic. You won't to miss it.
* meaning that I've known her the longest, not that either of us are "old." Right?
We both became regulars at a couple of open mics around town. One was at the old Poor David's Pub on Greenville, where Bill Seely was the host. The other was down in Deep Ellum at the Commerce Street Ice House, and was hosted by Bob Ackerman.
Lots of folks drifted in and out of those open mics, but Annie and me were regulars. Later on, she and some of her friends from the band Chattervox started a songwriter group down on Greenville Avenue. We'd meet at a Starbucks there, once a month, to exchange songs we were working on, share writing ideas, and get critique.
That's where I first met Lisa Markely and Beth Cahill, Annie's Chattervox mates. It's also where I first met Bill Nash and Cary Cooper. It was quite a group. I think some folks still find it hard to believe we were all a part of it. And I still miss it quite a bit.
Annie's a good friend, and a great person. She's not just a great musician, but also an involved community activist. She sang on my first CD, lending her voice to "The Sun is Gonna Show," and "The Peace." And her last CD came out that same year. She's been to a lot of my gigs through the years, and vice versa. She and some of those aforementioned songwriter friends came to my CD release and sang with me that night.
I mention all this because Annie's new CD is now done. The CD Release Party for "Some Kind of Wonder" is this coming Sunday, April 1st. And if you are free, you should go.
Here are the details:
CD Release Party for "Some Kind of Wonder"
Sunday, April 1
5:00 pm until 8:00pm
no cover charge, bring donations
Bath House Cultural Center
521 E. Lawther Drive
Dallas, TX
www.bathhousecultural.com
214-670-8749
You can get more info on Annie and her music at her website.
While there, you can listen to soundclips from the new CD, and find out more about this great performer.
I don't see Annie nearly as much as I should these past few years. I bumped into her at the big peace rally, just before the war, and she asked me to sing with her on one of her songs. But, good lord, that's four years ago now! So, I see her now and then, but not nearly enough.
I understand that she's resurrected the songwriter group here and there, and that's a good thing. She works hard to book regular solo gigs, and gigs with her current band, "Rocketgirl." She also sometime performs classical flute, and can sometimes be head at the DMA.
Annie has always been a great encourager of other artists, and I have always been proud to call her friend. She works hard at what she does, forges her own path, and always challenging herself to grow musically and artistically.
What I've heard of the new CD is fantastic. You won't to miss it.
* meaning that I've known her the longest, not that either of us are "old." Right?
Lisa Markley CD Release
Jan/25/2007 07:58 AM | Permalink
This is last minute notice, but a very old friend of
mine is having her CD Release party this evening.
List Markley's new CD "The Sky is Blue and Sometimes
Cries" will be featured at a great show tonight at
Sons of Hermann Hall:
Lisa Markley CD Release Gala
Thursday January 25, 2007
7:00 pm - 10:00 pm
Sons of Hermann Hall
3414 Elm Street
Dallas, TX 75226
You can get more info about the CD here.
Thor Christensen wrote a nice feature on Lisa in yesterday's DMN.
And here is Lisa's myspace page.
Special guests will include Bruce Balmer, Jeffrey Barnes, and J. Paul Slavens as they recreate the magic of this studio release. Lisa's press release says: "the doors open at 7:00, show at 7:30, cover is $10. Dress up if the spirit moves you--be there regardless!"
Hard to believe, but I've known Lisa over a decade now, from our time in the new defunct Greenville Avenue Songwriter's Group. We've also shared many a memorable moment at Kerrville. Her fellow Malvini, Beth Cahill plays on my CD (here) Part of why I'm writing this is out of guilt. I can't be there tonight, because of a prior commitment with Maria. Which really bums me out.
But if you can, you should go.
Lisa Markley CD Release Gala
Thursday January 25, 2007
7:00 pm - 10:00 pm
Sons of Hermann Hall
3414 Elm Street
Dallas, TX 75226
You can get more info about the CD here.
Thor Christensen wrote a nice feature on Lisa in yesterday's DMN.
And here is Lisa's myspace page.
Special guests will include Bruce Balmer, Jeffrey Barnes, and J. Paul Slavens as they recreate the magic of this studio release. Lisa's press release says: "the doors open at 7:00, show at 7:30, cover is $10. Dress up if the spirit moves you--be there regardless!"
Hard to believe, but I've known Lisa over a decade now, from our time in the new defunct Greenville Avenue Songwriter's Group. We've also shared many a memorable moment at Kerrville. Her fellow Malvini, Beth Cahill plays on my CD (here) Part of why I'm writing this is out of guilt. I can't be there tonight, because of a prior commitment with Maria. Which really bums me out.
But if you can, you should go.
Ed Upton
Aug/10/2006 10:53 PM | Permalink
Dr. Ed
Upton
A Eulogy Given at Northaven UMC
June 24, 2005
I cannot
remember the first time I met Ed Upton. Which is to
say that I was too young at the time to remember the
first time I knew Ed Upton. You see, although I would
not know it until years later, the man I met here at
Northaven Church, who would be such a mentor to me
here, had already been a mentor to me years before.
Ed was a member of Staff Parish, so this was not that unusual. But I would come to learn that Ed probably would have been that proactive anyway. He was a bit of a busy-body, as many of you know.
So, we met up the street at Mainstream Fish House, and Ed set about asking me some gentle, but probing questions, about who I was and where I had been. And in the process, I mentioned that as a kid I had attended Lovers Lane United Methodist.
To which Ed asked, "What years were you there?"
I told Ed the years, and he thought for half a second, and then asked,
"Where you confirmed there?"
And I said that, yes, I was confirmed there.
And Ed, with some astonishment in his voice, said "I was in charge of your confirmation."
And so it was that I first learned that Ed Upton had been a spiritual mentor to me, long before the adult me would come to know the man I knew as Ed Upton. Ed would become a trusted advisor and friend to me, here at Northaven.
Like many of you, I came to call Ed my friend.
In fact, that very first re-meeting of Ed Upton at Mainstream Fish House taught me two very important things that I know you will all agree was true about Ed Upton's life:
1) Ed lived an interesting life and did many fascinating things.
2) Ed knew just about everybody, and was a friend and mentor to many,
many people.
These past few years, as Ed has struggle with cancer, many of us who knew Ed have been astounded to find friends literally coming out of the woodwork.
Friends that Ed knew back in Mississipppi...
Friends from Lovers Lane...
Friends from Northaven...
Friends from the Dallas community...
Ed Upton was a man with an astounding number of friends. And Ed knew how to BE a good friend. We often say about people, "Oh yes, he had many friends," but Ed REALLY DID!
One of my favorite memories of Ed was as a member of our church's nominating committee. Ed knew everybody. I mean Ed knew everybody! And not only did he know everybody's name, he knew something ABOUT everybody.
He would come to our nominating committee meetings with double-handfulls of handwritten notes about people...thoughts about who would be good to serve on what committee. And he was almost always right. He could size up a person's strengths and weaknesses.
And if he didn't know somebody, he would want to know them. Sometimes in those meetings, we'd come across a name of someone Ed didn't know --perhaps a new member-- and he'd say, almost as if it was a personal moral failing "Gee, I don't know that person!"
He really did get dissapointed if he didn't know someone. And so, then, if you'd start to describe the person, you could see the wheels turning inside Ed's head...he would be making mental notes about this person you were describing...trying to remember them, in case he needed to know them later.
Ed was a person who made an effort to KNOW his friends, and to keep up with his friends. Sometimes, this was maddening for the friends. Because, let's be honest, Ed could sometimes be a busy-body. Ed liked to get into other people's business. Sometimes, Ed even liked to gossip...with that impish grin of his....
But he always did it out of care for a person....and his ability to make and keep friends knew no bounds.
If you were a friend of Ed's, you had to be ready to have him tell you what he thought. Because he would. Ed would tell you his opinion on just about everything, whether you asked for it or not! Ed would, sometimes bluntly, tell you what you were doing right, and what you were doing wrong!
But you always appreciated his sincerity, and you always knew that behind it all, Ed cared.
Ed was always smiling, and always finding ways to relate to people. But, Ed could also be a curmudgeon. Ed could be one of the most stubborn people you will ever meet...and when he decided that things would be a certain way, it was sometime hard --no, it was sometimes IMPOSSIBLE-- to get him to change his mind.
There is a set of folks who cared for Ed in these last two years who, I believe, merit mentioning here and now. They are folks in his family, and close friends from his life whose names we must raise up today.
-- Lynn Daniels saw him through many trips to the hospital and brought him food and comfort when he was going through his chemotherapy.
-- Kay Warrick and Sandra Washburn, from here at Northaven, stood with Ed for hours on hours during his last months, not only taking him to appointments, but being at his beck and call much of the time.
-- Roger Dube, a good friend first to sister and brother-in-law, became his good friend, and would fly in from his home to spend weeks at a time with Ed.
Steve Leija, spent many nights with Ed, in his home, caring for him all through the nights, and sending emails to Ed's large circle of friends about his condition.
I want to mention Ida Loise Noblin, who has been a fifty-year friend to Ed. Ed once described for me the pain and anguish of his leaving the ministry at Lovers Lane UMC. Both Ed and the world were discovering that he was a gay man. And this meant that he would be forced from his position at Lovers Lane. Several times, Ed told me the story of the horrible day when the news became public. And that Ed simply sat in his office, unable to move, unable to answer the doors. Person after person knocked on that door. But Ed simply sat at his desk.
He waited until late in the day when he assumed everyone had finally gone home. And only then did he open his office door, only to discover a woman patiently sitting on the steps, waiting for him.
It was Ida Loiuse Noblin. Ida Loise was a friend who stood by Ed, and waited outside the door, knowing that he needed her friendship.
Mike Upton, Ed's son, made several trips to see his Dad in these last years, and the two of them shared a special bond. Ed was so proud of Mike and of all he accomplished, and bragged about him every chance he got.
And finally, there are two folks whose love and care for Ed were matched only by his love and care for them: Ed Poole and Dee Wylie. Ed Poole was Ed Upton's brother-in-law. Ed, Ed's sister, and Ed Poole have all known each other almost their entire lives.
When Ed Upton's sister was dying of cancer just a few short months ago, Ed went to stay with Ed Poole and "sister" for six weeks.
Ed Poole has returned the favor. I don't know that I've ever known a brother-in-law so committed to his brother-in-law than Ed Poole was to Ed Upton. Ed, your love and care for Ed Upton was truly remarkable and inspring to us all...and now many of us here in Dallas are now proud to call you our friend.
And Dee Wyly. Dee and Ed have also known each other almost their entire lives....since the first grade....that's about as far back as you can go, really. Dee describes Ed Upton as the brother she never had. And I know that Ed loved her as a sister too. Ed used to brag about Dee...used talk about their friendship.
Well, I have seen it in action. I have seen it in action, as Dee has gone with Ed to the hospital, to the nursing home...and finally, has sat with him for hours and days in these last weeks.
Dee and Ed, you stood by Ed Upton in a way that truly moved me to see. Your care for him...your support of him, was truly remarkable. You three share a bond of experience and love that no one can truly know the depths of...and I know, because he told me, that Ed was extremely grateful to the two of you.
The question I got asked the most these past few months was "How is Ed doing, and can we go see him?"
The answer was often that he wasn't doing very well, and that he really didn't want to see people. I wish he had opened his doors to see more folks these past few months, but that was his choice, and we must always respect that kind of choice.
I think a lot of it came from the fact that Ed was a control freak at
heart. And when you have cancer you don't really control very much. But it's not to say he didn't care for and love each and every one of you here in this room. But --and this is my own anaylsis-- I think he wanted to be more in control than he could be when he saw folks.
Sometimes when folks die, we say that we can never replace them. And if we are honest, many times we don't mean it. Of COURSE we'll replace them...of course other leaders will come along in their place. That's the humbling thing about life...that life goes on, and that new leaders emerge.
But friends, I truly do believe in Ed's case, we'll never replace him. I truly believe that the best thing we can do is to learn from Ed's example and life...and to try our best to continue to live out the lessons he taught us...knowing full well that we'll never replace him.
To that end, let me say a few of the remarkable things that I will take forward with me about Ed's life...
First, Ed taught me how you can support the United Methodist Church, be a part of it, and still not accept all of it's flaws and want it to change.
Based on stories Ed told me of his life, I think I am confident in saying this next thing: I don't personally know anyone else who had more reason to be angry at the Methodist Church than Ed did. I know very FEW people with as much of a reason to be angry with God as Ed did.
I do not know anyone else who had more reason to --and I mean this next line theologically-- tell the United Methodist Church to go to hell.
But, rather remarkably, Ed didn't do that. It's not to say he didn't have a dark night of the soul, and years of struggling to come to terms with his connection to the church. He did have that.
But the Ed Upton I knew remained a committed Methodist to the day he died. He knew more about the Methodist Church 98 percent of the world. If we were planning to put someone on a committee here, or hire someone on the staff, it was Ed who always wanted to make sure they had a Methodist connection.
So, Ed taught me a lot about how someone who had every reason to leave the Methodist Church, to be mad at God, could remain a committed part of a Methodist Community of faith. It was a remarkable witness to his own ability to find peace, even in a church who caused him pain...and that witness is a gift to us all.
Ed taught me a lot about how to LOVE LIFE. Ed LOVED life. Ed didn't want to die. Ed fought death with every fiber of his body. Ed, as you may know, outlived his initial cancer diagnosis by about a year and a half.
And that truly was a great achievement. But it wasn't enough for Ed!!!
He was not happy about dying. He was not happy about it one bit. Ed didn't have a lot of use for worrying about heaven, because Ed was too busy living life on earth.
And what a great lesson THIS is too: Would that all of us can love life the way Ed loved life. Would that all of us could LOVE LIFE with the PASSION AND EXUBERANCE that Ed loved life.
Even though Ed wanted much more time than simply two more years, these past two years have allowed Ed to do a lot of things he wouldn't have been able to do otherwise.
He got to see this new church. He got to see be here and worship here, and see us move in. Ed LOVED Northaven Church with all his being...and I am so grateful that he was able to see this new place.
He got to talk to his son, David, for the first time in years. Even though it was little more than a short conversation, I know Ed was grateful for that chance.
He got to spend some quality time with his son, Mike. Mike came to town with a copy of Mike's new movie, "Akeela and the Bee," and the two of them shared a special weekend. Ed was so proud of Mike and talked about him all the time. Ed never passed up a chance to brag about Mike.
He got a chance to see a whole host of grade-school friends from Mississippi, who made a special trip here to Dallas to see him. Dee was in on this one too. Lots of Ed's old, dear, childhood friends, came to show their love for him...to brighten his day....and he was surprised and grateful for this time.
He got the chance to go back to Yazoo City one last time. Dee, Ed Poole, and Ed flew back there and made one last trip around. I know it was a powerful experience for all of them. And I know, because he told me, that it meant a lot to him.
In short, Ed continued to LOVE LIFE these past two years. He continue to love life right up until his final days too.
And would that we might ALL love life the way Ed did....
Because Ed loved life, Ed was not big on worrying about heaven. He did not talk a lot about heaven...he didn't want to. He didn't really want to think about it. My hunch is that it was because heaven is not something he could control. His life? At least until the cancer, he could control a lot of that. But heaven?
But I will say, on Ed's behalf, that I do believe in the life that never ends. I do believe in a place where truly kind and generous souls like Ed reside forever....whether it's anything more than in the mind of God, we may all never know until we're there. But I think it's a "somewhere."
Life has a way of regenerating itself. Our deepest pains have way of becoming the breaking point where new life can be born.
I think it's said quite well in the hymn that we will sing to close our sevice in just a moment. As you might imagine, control-freak that he was, Ed picked out the hymn. Ed had very specific instructions about this service, and we've tried to honor them.
But this last hymn, Hymn of Promise, says a lot about our hope for a life that never ends:
In our end, is our beginning,
In our time, infinity
In our doubt, there is believing
In our life, eternity
In our death, a resurrection
At the last, a victory
Unrevealed until it's season,
Something God alone can see.
I believe that Ed is there in that place beyond death, where ever and what ever it is. I like to imagine that he's already being a busybody. That he already knows the names of most of the angels, and has already given God a list of how they can be better employed.
And when I think of Ed being in that place --a place he didn't want to go to because he didn't want this life to end-- I think back to that image of Ida Loiuse Noblin, waiting for Ed on the steps at Lovers Lane Church.
I think of her being that kind of friend to him in that moment, when he didn't want to step out of that door.
You see, Ed was the kind of friend that waited on the steps for many of us too. He stood by us in our times of need.
So, Ed didn't want to open the door of death. But I truly believe that when it opened for him, what he found was our loving God, sitting on the steps, waiting for him
....ready to love him
...ready to recieve him into the heavenly kingdom
...ready to guide Ed as they walked through that door together.
Thanks be to God for God's goodness and grace. And life that never ends.
Amen.
Dan Fogelberg
Feb/15/2006 07:47 AM | Permalink
(Note: I've done a little reorganization of the blog
today, and created a new category called "Balcony
People." Joyce Landgraff created the term some years
back, to describe folks living, dead, fictional, and
non, who were her support system....her
cheerleaders....her inspiration. It seems to me that
part of this blog should be to recognize those kinds
of folks, and thus the new category. So, I've moved
some old entries into this category, and will try to
write new ones as life allows...EF)
---------------------------------
When I was in college, I used to sit up late nights in Moore-Hill dorm playing Dan Fogelberg songs. It's been said that every guy starts out playing music because he imagines it will "attract the chicks." I certainly would have never admitted as much at the time, but I definitely had a fantasy back then.
My fantasy was that I'd be sitting in my room, playing a Dan Fogelberg song --perhaps something like "These Days"-- and some really gorgeous young coed would walk by, hear the music, come it to listen for a while, fall madly in love with me, and we'd live happily....well, you know...
Never happened. Not even once.
All those nights, playing the guitar by myself never once attracted one female into my dorm room, despite the fact that perhaps hundreds passed by the door during those years. As an unintended consequence, however, I did manage to learn a fair number of Dan Fogelberg songs along the way. In fact, I had "The Complete Dan Fogelberg Songbook" and at one time I could probably play about half the tunes in the book.
Of course, by the time I was in college, folk rock was waaay "out." Nobody listened to Dan Fogelberg. Everybody was in to Howard Jones, and Haircuts 100. It was the early days of MTV, with Michael Jackson and Dire Straights. Nobody, but nobody, was interested in the sensitive singer-songwriter.
But songwriters like Fogelberg are deep in my own musical DNA. Long before I knew of the great singer-songwriters of the 90s, I was listening to the great singer-songwriters of the 70s. And Dan Fogelberg is among the best. A part of the whole Southern California movement that also birthed Jackson Browne, the Eagles, and hosts of other artists, Fogelberg really charted his own path. Determined to be a solo artist, his ethic in that regard is a real model for all us who can't ever seen playing permanently with a band.
I won't write a biography of Fogelberg here, because its' really been done already. If you click here you'll read one of the best I've read.
I can't even remember now how I first started listening to Fogelberg music...or what album I got first. He goes THAT far back in my memory. I CAN tell you that my two favorites when I was in high school were "Home Free" (his first) and "Souvenirs." To this day, "There's a Place in the World for a Gambler" is a desert isle song for me.
It was one of the songs I used to play in my church high school youth group. Something about that third verse really speaks to me:
If that's not deeply theological, I don't know what is.
When my grandmother died, my sophomore year at college, we drove that long drive back to Kentucky one last time. Somehow, I knew it would be the last time we'd visit there. And that made it a doubly-sad trip. We were not just saying goodbye to her, we were saying goodbye to a home, a part of my father's life, and a part of our family's collective history. I could sense all this at the time...while it was happening.
I probably listened to "Home Free" a hundred times on that long interstate ride up there. And then, as we pulled away from the old deep, red brick house one last time, I had "To the Morning" on...and the lyrics spoke to the deep sadness I felt:
You have to really hear the song to get the full affect. But it's another desert isle song. And it was one of the times in life when the actual music and lyrics of a song genuinely captured my own personal mood, the way that only the most special of songs can.
I love to play "The Last Nail," and it's been one of my favorite DF songs forever. It was never a hit. The lyrics are, truthfully, a little corny and perhaps discomforting. They feel a little too personal...a little too voyeuristic. I truly have no idea how autobiographical it is to DF's life. But I always liked the guitar riff, and for years, it was probably the most difficult riff I could play. So I played it a lot.
Somehow, in that fantasy of mine I mentioned at the start, I always imagined that the "chicks" would dig this voyeuristic song about a woman who goes off and leaves the lonely guitar player. (What was I THINKING?!)
But several years down the road, when my college girlfriend actually did break up with me, it did feel as if I was, pretty literally, living out the song itself. And I found myself going back to it again.
A year later --my first year in grad school at SMU-- she and I bumped into each other at a UT Football game, and we spent an hour or so catching up late that night. It was --sans the Christmas Eve part-- the story line of "Same Old Lang Syne." It was even raining when I got out of her car, and walked back to my friend's dorm room...no kidding.
Life sometimes does imitate art.
-----------------------------
What's always impressed me is what an incredible musician Fogelberg is. On several of his albums, he plays virtually EVERY instrument. On a couple of them, he also painted the paintings that grace the cover or inside jacket. I like that. He really makes the artistic expression a part who he is. He has something to say about all aspects of this music production...he's not just stepping into someone else's artist vision (record company, manager, etc...).
I've probably seen DF seven or eight times live. Like Chicago, you kind of loose track after a while. I've seen him with the "band," and I've seen him "solo," and it's been a treat every time. He always manages to pull out some old songs that are surprises, and he's enough of a pro to also play the "hits" because he has to. (But without malice or disdain for them either...)
I've never actually met Dan Fogelberg. But I had a golden opportunity to once. It was after one of his solo acoustic shows at what was then called "Starplex" in Dallas. I had hung around backstage, waiting to see if he'd come out. He never did. The crowd must have waited for several hours for him to come and meet and greet, and gradually most of the folks just left. But he still stayed sequestered in his room. I had heard it said that he can be a pretty temperamental guy who doesn't like the "meet and greet."
Finally, almost everyone disbursed...even the security guards! So, I just strode right in. There were probably ten or twenty folks standing around. And then, without warning, Dan Fogelberg and his girlfriend emerged from the dressing room, and headed for their limo. They stopped to shake hands with just about everyone standing there, and even talk with folks for a while.
At one point, I am probably ten or fifteen feet from the guy, and he actually turns and looks at me. I would imagine I must have had some kind of stunned-frozen expression on my face, because after a second or two, he turned his gaze elsewhere, and within a minute more he was in the limo driving away.
I was simply totally frozen. What would I have said to him?
Dan, I'm such a big fan?
(how cliche...)
Mr. Fogelberg, I feel I could be reincarnated as you because I already know most of you songs?
(sounds a little stalker-ish...)
So, I didn't say anything. Just stood there like a frozen deer, as he got in the limo, and the headlights drove away.....
Over the past decade, we've heard less and less from Fogelberg. Part of that is that he's been in the midst of a very serious personal battle with cancer the past two years, and I certainly hope and pray he's come out of it well and whole again. I also have heard a rumor that his Colorado Ranch, his home of almost twenty-five years, is up for sale. Have no idea what that means.
I've wanted to write about Fogelberg and his influence in my life and music for some time. But the reason I am writing about him now is that, a couple of years ago, I met a guy named Rusty King at an annual retreat we both are invited to each year. Rusty, myself, and a couple of other friends named Jon and Paul, stayed up late into the night playing old Dan Fogelberg songs.
Most folks know the hits we played:
Longer
Run for the Roses
Leader of the Band
Heart Hotels
Believe in Me
Make Love Stay
And many others.
You probably know all the above songs. And unless you're a big music fan, you might not have realized they were all Dan Fogelberg songs. (That happens a lot...) And there are probably five or ten other DF songs you know, but you just have no idea that they're his.
Anyway, what happened that night is that I found someone (Rusty) who knows more Dan Fogelberg songs than I do. If I know half of the Dan Fogelberg songbook, this guy knows ninety percent of it. I kid you not.
We weren't just trading back and forth on songs like "Leader of the Band" that night. We were singing perfect harmonies on "Stars" and "Wysteria." It was uncanny. In all my years, I never thought I'd meet someone who was a bigger fan that I. But I have.
Rusty is such a big fan that several years back he put on a Dan Fogelberg Tribute Show. No kidding. He rounded up string players, guitar players, bass, percussion...the works...and they put on a several hour tribute show.
Now, Rusty has convinced us all to do it again. So, we are.
Here's the scoop:
Living Legacy: A Tribute to Dan Fogelberg
March 31st, 7 pm
Wesley Hall of Spring Valley UMC, Dallas
Best I can tell, there will be fifteen or more musicians --guitars, keyboards, percussion, flutes, strings, brass, sax, bass--- all playing several hours with of Dan Fogelberg material. We're doing the hits, yes. But we're also doing more obscure songs that really deserve to be played and heard...even some of the jazzy instrumental stuff from "Twin Sons." (there's a flute player playing with us named Cornell Kinderknecht who is truly amazing...) We're even doing "Netherlands."
We had rehearsal on Monday night, and I have to tell you, these musicians are good. Here's Rusty, and my old friend Frank playing the keyboards (you can see the strings, flutes, and some of the horns behind them...the other guitars, bass and me are out of the picture...):
This show has the potential for being really quite good. I'm going to get the chance to play lead and sing on several songs. I'll also sing background on almost every song too. The show will be a benefit for UMCOR. And so, I hope you will plan to attend if you can. It should be a great night of music.
I'll keep you posted how the show is progressing as it gets closer to the date...
UPDATES!!!
Obviously, much has happened since I originally wrote this blog some year's back. Dan has died, and I have done more blogging about him that you might find interesting.
I blog on the news of his death here.
I do a second blog about his meaning for me as a songwriter here.
Finally, an incredible tribute that comes from his wife, Jean Fogelberg. The story of what happened on the first birthday after his death. You won't want to miss this one. Find it here.
It's been a high honor and blessing in my life to be in Connections Band these past few years, and to have now performed our Fogelberg Tribute Show four times. Of all the shows we do, it's the only one dedicated to just one artist, it's the first we ever did, and it still holds a special place in our hearts. It continues to be a great honor to all of us to keep Dan's music alive in our own way.
---------------------------------
When I was in college, I used to sit up late nights in Moore-Hill dorm playing Dan Fogelberg songs. It's been said that every guy starts out playing music because he imagines it will "attract the chicks." I certainly would have never admitted as much at the time, but I definitely had a fantasy back then.
My fantasy was that I'd be sitting in my room, playing a Dan Fogelberg song --perhaps something like "These Days"-- and some really gorgeous young coed would walk by, hear the music, come it to listen for a while, fall madly in love with me, and we'd live happily....well, you know...
Never happened. Not even once.
All those nights, playing the guitar by myself never once attracted one female into my dorm room, despite the fact that perhaps hundreds passed by the door during those years. As an unintended consequence, however, I did manage to learn a fair number of Dan Fogelberg songs along the way. In fact, I had "The Complete Dan Fogelberg Songbook" and at one time I could probably play about half the tunes in the book.
Of course, by the time I was in college, folk rock was waaay "out." Nobody listened to Dan Fogelberg. Everybody was in to Howard Jones, and Haircuts 100. It was the early days of MTV, with Michael Jackson and Dire Straights. Nobody, but nobody, was interested in the sensitive singer-songwriter.
But songwriters like Fogelberg are deep in my own musical DNA. Long before I knew of the great singer-songwriters of the 90s, I was listening to the great singer-songwriters of the 70s. And Dan Fogelberg is among the best. A part of the whole Southern California movement that also birthed Jackson Browne, the Eagles, and hosts of other artists, Fogelberg really charted his own path. Determined to be a solo artist, his ethic in that regard is a real model for all us who can't ever seen playing permanently with a band.
I won't write a biography of Fogelberg here, because its' really been done already. If you click here you'll read one of the best I've read.
I can't even remember now how I first started listening to Fogelberg music...or what album I got first. He goes THAT far back in my memory. I CAN tell you that my two favorites when I was in high school were "Home Free" (his first) and "Souvenirs." To this day, "There's a Place in the World for a Gambler" is a desert isle song for me.
It was one of the songs I used to play in my church high school youth group. Something about that third verse really speaks to me:
"There a light in the depth of your darkness,
There's a calm at the eye of every storm.
There's a light in the depth of your darkness,
Let it shine."
If that's not deeply theological, I don't know what is.
When my grandmother died, my sophomore year at college, we drove that long drive back to Kentucky one last time. Somehow, I knew it would be the last time we'd visit there. And that made it a doubly-sad trip. We were not just saying goodbye to her, we were saying goodbye to a home, a part of my father's life, and a part of our family's collective history. I could sense all this at the time...while it was happening.
I probably listened to "Home Free" a hundred times on that long interstate ride up there. And then, as we pulled away from the old deep, red brick house one last time, I had "To the Morning" on...and the lyrics spoke to the deep sadness I felt:
"And it's going to be a day,
There is really no way to say no to the morning.
Yes it's going to be a day, there is really nothing left to say,
but come on morning....
And maybe there are seasons
And maybe they change
And maybe true love is not so strange."
You have to really hear the song to get the full affect. But it's another desert isle song. And it was one of the times in life when the actual music and lyrics of a song genuinely captured my own personal mood, the way that only the most special of songs can.
I love to play "The Last Nail," and it's been one of my favorite DF songs forever. It was never a hit. The lyrics are, truthfully, a little corny and perhaps discomforting. They feel a little too personal...a little too voyeuristic. I truly have no idea how autobiographical it is to DF's life. But I always liked the guitar riff, and for years, it was probably the most difficult riff I could play. So I played it a lot.
Somehow, in that fantasy of mine I mentioned at the start, I always imagined that the "chicks" would dig this voyeuristic song about a woman who goes off and leaves the lonely guitar player. (What was I THINKING?!)
But several years down the road, when my college girlfriend actually did break up with me, it did feel as if I was, pretty literally, living out the song itself. And I found myself going back to it again.
A year later --my first year in grad school at SMU-- she and I bumped into each other at a UT Football game, and we spent an hour or so catching up late that night. It was --sans the Christmas Eve part-- the story line of "Same Old Lang Syne." It was even raining when I got out of her car, and walked back to my friend's dorm room...no kidding.
Life sometimes does imitate art.
-----------------------------
What's always impressed me is what an incredible musician Fogelberg is. On several of his albums, he plays virtually EVERY instrument. On a couple of them, he also painted the paintings that grace the cover or inside jacket. I like that. He really makes the artistic expression a part who he is. He has something to say about all aspects of this music production...he's not just stepping into someone else's artist vision (record company, manager, etc...).
I've probably seen DF seven or eight times live. Like Chicago, you kind of loose track after a while. I've seen him with the "band," and I've seen him "solo," and it's been a treat every time. He always manages to pull out some old songs that are surprises, and he's enough of a pro to also play the "hits" because he has to. (But without malice or disdain for them either...)
I've never actually met Dan Fogelberg. But I had a golden opportunity to once. It was after one of his solo acoustic shows at what was then called "Starplex" in Dallas. I had hung around backstage, waiting to see if he'd come out. He never did. The crowd must have waited for several hours for him to come and meet and greet, and gradually most of the folks just left. But he still stayed sequestered in his room. I had heard it said that he can be a pretty temperamental guy who doesn't like the "meet and greet."
Finally, almost everyone disbursed...even the security guards! So, I just strode right in. There were probably ten or twenty folks standing around. And then, without warning, Dan Fogelberg and his girlfriend emerged from the dressing room, and headed for their limo. They stopped to shake hands with just about everyone standing there, and even talk with folks for a while.
At one point, I am probably ten or fifteen feet from the guy, and he actually turns and looks at me. I would imagine I must have had some kind of stunned-frozen expression on my face, because after a second or two, he turned his gaze elsewhere, and within a minute more he was in the limo driving away.
I was simply totally frozen. What would I have said to him?
Dan, I'm such a big fan?
(how cliche...)
Mr. Fogelberg, I feel I could be reincarnated as you because I already know most of you songs?
(sounds a little stalker-ish...)
So, I didn't say anything. Just stood there like a frozen deer, as he got in the limo, and the headlights drove away.....
Over the past decade, we've heard less and less from Fogelberg. Part of that is that he's been in the midst of a very serious personal battle with cancer the past two years, and I certainly hope and pray he's come out of it well and whole again. I also have heard a rumor that his Colorado Ranch, his home of almost twenty-five years, is up for sale. Have no idea what that means.
I've wanted to write about Fogelberg and his influence in my life and music for some time. But the reason I am writing about him now is that, a couple of years ago, I met a guy named Rusty King at an annual retreat we both are invited to each year. Rusty, myself, and a couple of other friends named Jon and Paul, stayed up late into the night playing old Dan Fogelberg songs.
Most folks know the hits we played:
Longer
Run for the Roses
Leader of the Band
Heart Hotels
Believe in Me
Make Love Stay
And many others.
You probably know all the above songs. And unless you're a big music fan, you might not have realized they were all Dan Fogelberg songs. (That happens a lot...) And there are probably five or ten other DF songs you know, but you just have no idea that they're his.
Anyway, what happened that night is that I found someone (Rusty) who knows more Dan Fogelberg songs than I do. If I know half of the Dan Fogelberg songbook, this guy knows ninety percent of it. I kid you not.
We weren't just trading back and forth on songs like "Leader of the Band" that night. We were singing perfect harmonies on "Stars" and "Wysteria." It was uncanny. In all my years, I never thought I'd meet someone who was a bigger fan that I. But I have.
Rusty is such a big fan that several years back he put on a Dan Fogelberg Tribute Show. No kidding. He rounded up string players, guitar players, bass, percussion...the works...and they put on a several hour tribute show.
Now, Rusty has convinced us all to do it again. So, we are.
Here's the scoop:
Living Legacy: A Tribute to Dan Fogelberg
March 31st, 7 pm
Wesley Hall of Spring Valley UMC, Dallas
Best I can tell, there will be fifteen or more musicians --guitars, keyboards, percussion, flutes, strings, brass, sax, bass--- all playing several hours with of Dan Fogelberg material. We're doing the hits, yes. But we're also doing more obscure songs that really deserve to be played and heard...even some of the jazzy instrumental stuff from "Twin Sons." (there's a flute player playing with us named Cornell Kinderknecht who is truly amazing...) We're even doing "Netherlands."
We had rehearsal on Monday night, and I have to tell you, these musicians are good. Here's Rusty, and my old friend Frank playing the keyboards (you can see the strings, flutes, and some of the horns behind them...the other guitars, bass and me are out of the picture...):
This show has the potential for being really quite good. I'm going to get the chance to play lead and sing on several songs. I'll also sing background on almost every song too. The show will be a benefit for UMCOR. And so, I hope you will plan to attend if you can. It should be a great night of music.
I'll keep you posted how the show is progressing as it gets closer to the date...
UPDATES!!!
Obviously, much has happened since I originally wrote this blog some year's back. Dan has died, and I have done more blogging about him that you might find interesting.
I blog on the news of his death here.
I do a second blog about his meaning for me as a songwriter here.
Finally, an incredible tribute that comes from his wife, Jean Fogelberg. The story of what happened on the first birthday after his death. You won't want to miss this one. Find it here.
It's been a high honor and blessing in my life to be in Connections Band these past few years, and to have now performed our Fogelberg Tribute Show four times. Of all the shows we do, it's the only one dedicated to just one artist, it's the first we ever did, and it still holds a special place in our hearts. It continues to be a great honor to all of us to keep Dan's music alive in our own way.
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Tommy Emmanuel: You Gotto Go See This Guy
Jan/27/2006 05:06 PM | Permalink
There are so
many musicians out there. So many shows you can go
and see. But, I've got one for you, and I need to
tell you that I rarely, rarely pass along an artist
to say "You need to go see this guy." But in this
case, everyone who loves the guitar needs to go see
this guy. It's Tommy Emmanuel, and he's coming to the
McNair Studio of Bass Hall in Fort Worth, on Friday,
February 10th.
Tommy is, quite simply, THE best guitar player I have personally seen, and quite possibly the best in the world today. I mean that in all seriousness.
Yet, I would bet many of us have never heard of the guy. Let's put it this way....the legendary LES PAUL is a Tommy Emmanuel fan, and lists him as one of the three bests guitarists in the world.
Originally from Australia, I believe he now lives in Tennessee, having had the good sense to marry an American.
You can learn more about him here
You can learn more about the Bass show here
Scroll down and click on the "tell me more" for a tasty little treat of Tommy's work...it's better than the soundclips you'll get at Tommy's website, because it's an actual live cut...and yes, that's him playing solo...
Again, as I said, very rarely do I pass something along like this.
If I could tie you all down, throw you in a van and make you go, I would....he's THAT good...
Don't miss it...
Tommy is, quite simply, THE best guitar player I have personally seen, and quite possibly the best in the world today. I mean that in all seriousness.
Yet, I would bet many of us have never heard of the guy. Let's put it this way....the legendary LES PAUL is a Tommy Emmanuel fan, and lists him as one of the three bests guitarists in the world.
Originally from Australia, I believe he now lives in Tennessee, having had the good sense to marry an American.
You can learn more about him here
You can learn more about the Bass show here
Scroll down and click on the "tell me more" for a tasty little treat of Tommy's work...it's better than the soundclips you'll get at Tommy's website, because it's an actual live cut...and yes, that's him playing solo...
Again, as I said, very rarely do I pass something along like this.
If I could tie you all down, throw you in a van and make you go, I would....he's THAT good...
Don't miss it...
--30--
Uncle Tom Mays
Jan/20/2006 05:07 PM | Permalink
Tom J Mays
A Eulogy by Eric Folkerth
Delivered at the First United Methodist Church of Atlanta, Texas
December 23, 2005
Thomas J Mays was born in the East Texas sawmill town of Talley, Texas on June 3, 1913. He died December 22, 2005 in Atlanta, Texas. He is survived by his wife, Beth Davis Mays; his daughter and son-in-law, Marsha and Craig Innes; his sons and daughters-in-law: Mark and Julia Mays, and Jeff and Lee Mays; Eight grandchildren; and one great-grandchild.
If it were up to Tom, this memorial service today would be about five minutes long. But since we have ninety-two glorious years of a life-well-lived to remember, we thank God that it's not up to Tom.
Tom was a man who believed in angels. In fact, Tom believed he had a guardian angel who looked out for him, and was present with him at several key moments of his life. Tom was also an amazing storyteller. If you've ever seen the movie "Big Fish," then you know the kind of stories Tom Mays used to tell. You were never quite sure where reality started and where legend started. Perhaps it's always hard to tell where that line is when a good story tells the truth, whether or not it's actually factual. But, even among the facts of Tom's life, there are some amazing stories.
Take, for example, the story of Tom's birth. Tom was born the youngest of eleven children to Samuel and Lucy Mays. My grandfather, Samuel Chesley Mays, was one of those eleven children. His mother was 44-years-old when Tom was born. Not unheard of these days, but pretty unusual in that time. When Tom was born, apparently he was born with two small kidney stones that immediately threatened his life. Doctors were summoned to the sawmill town of Talley, Texas, all the way from the big town of Longview. They sterilized their instruments and prepared to operate on the tiny, two-day-old baby, right on the kitchen table. They swept off all the regular kitchen implements, did their best to create a sterile environment, and then broke the bad news to Tom's mother, Lucy: the operation was incredibly risky. There was a good chance the baby might die.
But even as they were explaining all the risks, a miracle happened. Tom passed the two marble-sized kidney stones, and the surgery was averted. His mother proclaimed him a "miracle baby," and Tom kept those two small stones for the rest of his life, to remind him of how fragile his life was....but more than this, to remind him of what he was certain was the first appearance of his guardian angel.
Tom played baseball and football at Atlanta High School. He played football mainly because his older brothers Sam and Abe were Atlanta High football legends. And, actually, he was pretty good at football too. But, he excelled at baseball. So good was he that he eventually became a pitcher at the University of Texas at Austin.
Tom was also an artist. Early on, Tom learned how not only to paint painting (many of which still hang in the family's homes), but also how to paint signs. He painted billboards. He painted the "Dr. Pepper" logo on the sides of barns. He got the job painting the gold numbers on every post box in the new Atlanta Post Office.
Although he graduated as the valedictorian of Atlanta High School, he floundered in the year that followed. He spent it at Texarkana Junior College, majoring, in his own words, in "drinking and dancing." Eventually, this "major" became so much of a concern that my grandfather, Sam, sat his younger brother down, and, as Tom says, "gave me a good dressing down." He told Tom he was embarrassing the family, and needed to figure out something to do with his life.
This was somewhat problematic, in that the obvious career --working at the Mays Supercash Grocery Store downtown-- probably wasn't realistic. It was difficult for the store to support the two other boys, and there was realistically not space for Tom to join in. So, one day, while Tom was trying to figure out what to do with his life, he stumbled upon Judge Hugh Carney, sitting on a bench outside Miles Drug Store. Tom would later call Judge Carney "an angel," and said that this encounter would change his life. It was Judge Carney who convinced Tom that what he really ought to do was go into law. Tom's family worried about this, because they knew they couldn't help him financially, and they were afraid he might fail.
But through his own hard work painting signs, and waiting tables at an Austin Chinese Restaurant, Tom put managed to put himself through college and law school. And, as in high school, Tom made "all As" at the University of Texas.
He graduated from the law school in 1938 with the higest GPA of any student in 25 years. He graduated in a class that was chock-full of folks who would go on to be famous in Texas and beyond. John Connally was a law school classmate. So was Henry Wade. During law school, Tom became famous because of his class outlines. Tom created a set of study outlines for every law school class he attended, and his friends borrowed and copied them extensively, In fact, Tom remembers visiting the campus, several years after his graduation, and being shown copies of the "Tom Mays outlines" that were still being sold on the student black market.
Tom used to tell folks that John Connally used the outlines to get through law school. He said that Connally was a bit of a playboy who didn't class much, and that the only reason he graduated was because he used Tom's outlines. Nobody in the family was ever quite sure whether or not to believe this story. It sounded little like "Big Fish." But then, low and behold, one time years later Marsha and Craig (Tom's daughter and son-in-law) were in Santa Fe, New Mexico. They were having dinner in a restaurant, when they looked up to see John and Nellie Connally across the room. So, they went over and introduced themselves as Tom Mays' children. Connally was apparently quite pleased to see them. They told him the story of the law school outlines and, sure enough John Connally said, "I wouldn't have made it through law school without Tom Mays."
Tom was a walk-on player at the University of Texas, under legendary Longhorn Coach Billy Disch. However, by the second year of law school, Tom found himself at a crossroads. He was a good pitcher. Coaches and scouts were encouraging him to consider pursuing baseball further. But, it was getting tough to juggle baseball and law school, and Tom found himself needing to choose one road or the other. He chose law. You get the feeling that, now and then, Tom might have asked himself "what if" about baseballl. But he chose law instead. And he became a fine, young lawyer.
Tom was recruited by prestigious law firms that are still "name" firms to this day: Baker-Botts; and Vinson & Elkins in Houston. He was recruited by the FBI. But even with so many incredible offers out before him, Tom made the choice to come back to Atlanta. He chose to come back and work with his mentor, Judge Carney....and eventually with the Judge's son, Howard Carney. And, eventually Tom's son, Jeff, would also join their firm.
Jeff says Tom chose being a lawyer in Atlanta because he knew that he could help people there. Tom saw that there were many lawyers who sometimes forgot why they became lawyers. They had good positions, and lots of prestige, but day-to-day, it was hard for them to see how they helped people. "In Atlanta," Jeff said, "Tom could always see how he was helping people. He would say, 'You get so much gratification form helping other people.'"
And Tom really cared for his clients. They couldn't always pay in cash. And, through the years, the firm took all sorts of interesting forms of payment: eggs, small interest in land, other forms of barter.
He tried many interesting cases as a lawyer. One of the most memorable involved a time when he got a female client off for murder in the neighboring town of New Boston. So enraged by the verdict were the locals of New Boston, that the judge in the case had to order the Texas Rangers to escort Tom and the entire firm all the way back to Atlanta.
In terms of other civic involvement, Tom served as the City Attorney for Atlanta, Texas for sixteen years.
Tom met a beautiful young teacher named Beth Davis almost by accident. One of her double-dates had cancelled, and she invited him to come along. Tom says that he was immediately hooked on her, and knew very early on that he would have to marry her. He proposed to her on Christmas Eve, 1940. They were married on January 1, 1941.
Those of you who know Tom well will appreciate the humor in this next quote. Because in his autobiography, Tom says this about marrying Beth:
"I told Beth that I never intended to marry, but would try it with her and would not mistreat her in any way, and we could get a divorce for nothing if it didn't work out."
Well, it sure worked out, didn't it?!
Tom and Beth were married for sixty four years. A sign in one of the bathrooms of their home reads, "Happiness is being married to your best friend."
They were best friends. Partners. Lovers. And they were eventually the patriarch and matriarch of a large and beautiful family. Beth loved Tom, and Tom loved Beth. And everyone agrees that it was Beth's enduring and undying love for him that got him through these last difficult ten years of life.
Tom was not just a lawyer.
He was not just a baseball player.
He was not just an artist.
He was not just an avid reader (who liked to read the Encyclopedia Brittainica for fun...)
Pappa Tom was a good father, and a wonderful grandfather. Pappa Tom taught all his children and grandchildren the valuable lessons of life. He taught them through the telling of stories....stories that always had a point and a moral to them...a moral that was often about the importance of family, honesty, hard work, etc...
The grandchildren remember how he always treated each of them as individuals, and how he was a role model to them of overcoming adversity through hard work and perseverance.
Tom took his boys hunting. He would wake them at 4 am, fix them a big breakfast, and then they'd head out to hunt duck, or quail...but never deer. Tom somehow just could not bear to hunt deer. He taught Jeff about the law. He taught Mark how to play baseball and succeed in Real Estate. He even took Marsha hunting once, although they both admit it wasn't the best time for either of them.
Tom loved to play "Santa Claus" on Christmas morning, passing out the presents to his large extended family. At the ranch, the family was always trying out new things. They raised cows. The vaccinated their own cows....Tom made the kids get up early on Saturdays, to learn how to do this. They cared for, but never ate, their own cattle. Lots of folks asked Tom about this, but he always said he just couldn't bear to bring himself to eat a cow that he knew personally.
They farmed strawberries for several years, and folks would come for miles around to buy the strawberries. They had peach orchard for a while. They raised corn for the cows, and green beans and peas to sell at the family store in town.
Tom loved music. He loved jazz music. At UT Austin, he got the chance to see some of the greats at they came through town...Tommy Dorsey, Bennie Goodman...Duke Ellington. Tom remembers seeing them all as they came through town. He loved art too. When he was in the army in Paris, during World War II, he took time out to visit the great museums of Paris.
Tom taught the Men's Bible Class at First Methodist, Atlanta for fifty years. Marsha remembers how when she'd come home from college with friends, he'd fix them all a big steak dinner, and then return to his work, studying for his Sunday morning lesson.
In many ways, then, when you look at the totality of his life, Tom was a true "Renaissance Man." He passed on a thirst for life, a thirst for knowledge, to all his children and grandchildren. Through his hard work, he taught them, and through the stories he told.
Tom wrote his own autobiography some years back. It's full of many more amazing stories that I did not get to recount here (like he time he worked for the equivalent of "Homeland Security" during part of WWII, and tailed a Nazi suspect to private home in Dallas. He and his partner snuck around back to get a better look a the suspects, and climbed up a tree. But, they fell out when the branch broke, and had to run away before getting caught...)
At the end of his autobiography, Tom sums up his own life in this way:
"Few men have been blessed as I have been. I know about God's forgiveness and I accept it. I have never chosen to harbor resentment or hatred toward anybody, and I love people of all races and religions, and I have always been honest with my fellow man. Judge Carney told me that any many who is honest and pays his debts is far above average. He also said he knew he would go to heaven; because he believed in the Bible and its promises; and that he might not have a front row seat in heaven, but he would be on the back row. I accepted his philosophy.
My final wish in this life is that my children will take care of Beth after I am gone, and that they will continue to value and love and cherish each other as long as they live. We will leave some worldly goods when we are gone, but I pray that none of it will cause any problems with my children, and that they will be fair with each other. I have seen so many families split up over a few dollars or assets left to them by their parents. This is so wrong, and there is no viable reason on this earth for it to happen.
Life is short, and love and devotion to family is the greatest asset you will ever have, and should never be neglected."
I said at the beginning that Tom believe in angels, and he did. He believed he had a Guardian Angel. It visited and guided him at his birth, but also at many other times in his life....
....when he almost drowned at Barton Springs, in Austin, while in college. A stranger rescued him, then vanished into the crowd....
...when crossing the Atlantic, on the way to Paris in World War II, two plane engines blew out, and they made an emergency stop in London...
...when coming back from the War, and he learned that his ship of passage --the USS George Washington-- sank in New York harbor, just days after all the soldiers disembarked...
Christmas is a time of angels. Christmas is a time of inescapable good news. But this year, it's mixed with sadness for us too. But Christmas was always mixed with joy and sadness for Tom. While we should remember that Tom and Beth were, indeed, engaged on a Christmas Eve, Tom's mother also died on December 26th one year. And so, in the midst of our own sadness this day, let us remember that Tom always lived with Christmas joy and sorrows too.
And I believe the Christmas Angels are with us this day, just as Tom's Guardian Angel was always with him. They tell us to remember that Tom lived a good and full life....old enough to remember horses and buggies on the streets of Atlanta, and Armistice Day of World War I, he lived a long and good ninety-two-years.
They are telling us what the Christmas Angels aways tell us: Fear not.
Joy and sorrow are always tied together, even at Christmas.
And even as we grieve this day, we still give thanks for the good life of Tom Mays.
Movin' Out: I reminisce about Billy Joel and his
music
Jul/15/2005 06:30 PM | Permalink
Dennise and I
went to see
Movin' Out last night down at
the Fair Park
Music Hall. I know the show's been
out for years in New York, but this was our first
chance to see it here locally.
It was awesome. Of course, I should say that I'm INCREDIBLY biased. Because Billy Joel is one of my all-time favorite artists. Which leads me to today's blog...
I know all of Billy Joel's songs. I mean ALL of them. I didn't just listen to the show last night, I SANG it. Each and every song. There were over 25 Billy Joel songs in the show, some of them quite obscure and old, but I can report to you I knew each and every one; each and every word. I am sure the person in front of us thought I was crazy. But I didn't care.
Movin' Out basically takes the music of Joel, the dance choreography of Twila Tharpe, and combines them together. There is no spoken dialogue, but simply the story of five lifetime friends who go through the 50s, the tumult of Vietnam, the excesses of the 70s, and end up in the present day reunited.
Now, as I just said, I am not impartial about all this. I LOVE Billy's music. And I love a good musical. So, the combination of the two was just amazing to me. It was real high to see the show last night. I am NOT giving you an impartial review.
--------------------------------
When I was growing up, Billy Joel was monster-popular. He was huge. He had a string of pop hits in the 70s and 80s that caused some folks to love him, and others to despise him as a sell out. I was always in the first group, because, to me I always saw him first as a songwriter, and not as a hitmaker.
As you all know, my current love is folk music. What strikes me about Joel's music --as I listen back over much of it these past few days-- is how much LIKE folk music his songs are. Especially his lyrics and storytelling.
Many of his songs use the same kind of third-person narrative position folk music often does, songs such as:
-- Scenes from an Italian Restaurant
-- The Ballad of Billy the Kid
-- Movin' Out
-- Miami 2017
-- Allentown
-- Goodnight Saigon
-- Captain Jack
He tells stories with his music. And that's what folk musicians do. As I think about it this morning, I am pretty sure that's what always drew me to his music. In fact, to me it's always been remarkable that he's had as much commercial success as he has given the centrality of his lyrics and ballad-y nature of so many of his songs. If you scratch beneath the hits, what you find with Billy Joel is an amazing storyteller.
I was a junior high kid when the "Stranger" came out, and like almost everyone else, that was my first introduction to Billy Joel. However, I soon found myself out buying his earlier stuff....Piano Man, Streetlight Serenader...I even eventually bought a reissue of his band, "The Haggles" LP. (Something I have to believe is some kind of collectors item today).
I was pleased to read in this interview with NBC, that Joel still loves much of his old music. As you might imagine, he's a little tired of playing "Just the Way You Are." And, frankly, I could die without ever hearing it again myself.
What's very cool to me is that Movin' Out has reintroduced this stuff to a whole new audience. I mean, before this show, how many other folks besides me knew "Summer Highland Falls," or even "Angry Young Man?" It's VERY cool, and a little surreal, to find these songs that have always been a part of the private soundtrack of my own life's history, up on the stage and part of a contemporary musical.
My love for Joel continued through college. I had a cardboard cut out of him up in my dorm room, and we'd listen to each and every album in my room...me and my friends, Ed, Jon, Mike, and many more in our Moore-Hill dorm. In fact, I remember Jon was in a band one year in college, and put a couple of Joel songs in their set list. Just before finals, we'd put on "Nylon Curtain," and sing "PRESSURE!" at the top of our lungs.
My favorite song then, my favorite song now --and quite possibly my favorite song of all time-- was "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant." It's just such an amazing song. It goes through three distinct musical movements. It tells three different stories simultaneously: the story of two old friends, meeting for wine...the story of how they are doing now...and the story of "Brenda and Eddie" from their high school days...then back to the present moment again.
Like any good storytelling, it leaves a lot to the imagination...is this Brenda and Eddie, meeting in the restaurant? Is it their friends? Who?
For some reason, I was really attracted to this song in high school and college. I guess it's the idea that you could have such long a history with folks that you'd be able to catch up with them years down the road. Now, in my forties, that actually does happen to me now and then. And it adds another layer to the song for me.
But I can remembering listening to this song in college --with my friends, Ed, Jon, and others-- and realizing AT THE TIME that we'd probably be each other's "Eddie's." (Makes me wonder what they're up to right now, actually...)
It's also, if I'm not mistaken, an almost eight minute song!!! Can you imagine any major artist being allowed to release an eight minute song today! The record labels wouldn't hear of it!
Dennise and I made a bet, going in, that that song would play a key part in telling the story. And, sure enough, it did. It's the first song in the show, and the last reprise of the story too...the song bookends the shows, just as the song itself bookends the story of Brenda and Eddie.
The ONLY question I have about the whole show is so minor, that all yall are going to really see what a Billy Joel geek I really am. I just don't understand why one of the characters gets the name "Judy." I mean, it IS cool that Twila Tharpe picked a character from Cold Spring Harbor....THAT'S seriously digging back into Joel's past. But what about "Diane" from "Sleeping with the Television On?" Or, what about "Virginia" from "Only the Good....?" Judy, as a charcter name, just threw me a little. Still, I guess it's cool. And it's really the only question I have about the whole show. See, I am that much of a geek.
So, I aced my prediction about "Scene from an Italian Restaurant" having a prominent role. But I did get another wrong. I guessed that "Where's the Orchestra?" would be in the show. After all, it's a show about being IN a theater. Every since the song came out, I've actually always imagined that it would be perfect for a musical. Again, this is the question that only a true Billy Joel geek would ask.
Long before iTunes, people used to make cassette mix tapes for themselves. Long before Billy Joel put out his "Greatest Hits," I put together a cassette of my own favorite Joel songs. We used to play THAT in my dorm room. I used to listen to it in the drive from Dallas to Austin in my '65 Mustang. My friends borrowed it and made their own copies.
The tape has long since vanished. But this morning, inspired by the musical, and with the help of iTunes, I made a new copy on CD.
Here's some of my own personal favorite Billy Joel songs:
Scenes from an Italian Restaurant
Stilleto
James
Movin' Out
You're My Home
Closer to the Borderline
52nd Street
Allentown
Pressure
The Ballad of Billy the Kid
Miami 2017
The Great Suburban Showdown
Summer Highland Falls
Where's the Orchestra?
There are a few others that I may add later as I think of them. But these are fine, fine songs....great, great American storytelling.
To close these kind of entries, I often quote a person's lyrics. I guess I thought I'd quote something from "Scenes," but that seems too obvious. For some reason, I'm thinking of something from "Innocent Man," which was an album that he got a lot of grief for, because folks said he was nostalgically ripping off the fifties. But perhaps nostalgia has little to do with it. Perhaps it has more to do with honoring a part of his own musical DNA, much in the same way that I'm trying to honor him by writing this.
Joel was writing about the fifties when he wrote "Keeping the Faith." But as I hear the words today, they remind me of him. After all the fifties were to him what he was to me.
And so, as I look back, and as you read all this sentimentalism on my part, here's what I'm thinking:
"If it seems like I've been lost in let's remember
If you think I'm feeling older and missing my younger days
Oh, then you should have known me much better
'Cause my past is something that never got in my way, oh no
Still I would not be here now if I never had the hunger
And I'm not ashamed to say the wild boys were my friends, oh
'Cause I never felt the desire 'til their music set me on fire
And then I was saved, yeah
That's why I'm keeping the faith, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keeping the faith....
You can get just so much from a good thing
You can linger too long in your dreams
Say goodbye to the oldies but goodies
'Cause the good old days weren't always good
And tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems....
Now I told you my reasons for the whole revival
Now I'm going outside to have an ice cold beer in the shade, oh
I'm going to listen to my 45's, ain't it wonderful to be alive
When the rock 'n' roll plays, yeah
When the memory stays, yeah
I'm keeping the faith, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keeping the faith"
(Words and Music by Billy Joel)
It was awesome. Of course, I should say that I'm INCREDIBLY biased. Because Billy Joel is one of my all-time favorite artists. Which leads me to today's blog...
I know all of Billy Joel's songs. I mean ALL of them. I didn't just listen to the show last night, I SANG it. Each and every song. There were over 25 Billy Joel songs in the show, some of them quite obscure and old, but I can report to you I knew each and every one; each and every word. I am sure the person in front of us thought I was crazy. But I didn't care.
Movin' Out basically takes the music of Joel, the dance choreography of Twila Tharpe, and combines them together. There is no spoken dialogue, but simply the story of five lifetime friends who go through the 50s, the tumult of Vietnam, the excesses of the 70s, and end up in the present day reunited.
Now, as I just said, I am not impartial about all this. I LOVE Billy's music. And I love a good musical. So, the combination of the two was just amazing to me. It was real high to see the show last night. I am NOT giving you an impartial review.
--------------------------------
When I was growing up, Billy Joel was monster-popular. He was huge. He had a string of pop hits in the 70s and 80s that caused some folks to love him, and others to despise him as a sell out. I was always in the first group, because, to me I always saw him first as a songwriter, and not as a hitmaker.
As you all know, my current love is folk music. What strikes me about Joel's music --as I listen back over much of it these past few days-- is how much LIKE folk music his songs are. Especially his lyrics and storytelling.
Many of his songs use the same kind of third-person narrative position folk music often does, songs such as:
-- Scenes from an Italian Restaurant
-- The Ballad of Billy the Kid
-- Movin' Out
-- Miami 2017
-- Allentown
-- Goodnight Saigon
-- Captain Jack
He tells stories with his music. And that's what folk musicians do. As I think about it this morning, I am pretty sure that's what always drew me to his music. In fact, to me it's always been remarkable that he's had as much commercial success as he has given the centrality of his lyrics and ballad-y nature of so many of his songs. If you scratch beneath the hits, what you find with Billy Joel is an amazing storyteller.
I was a junior high kid when the "Stranger" came out, and like almost everyone else, that was my first introduction to Billy Joel. However, I soon found myself out buying his earlier stuff....Piano Man, Streetlight Serenader...I even eventually bought a reissue of his band, "The Haggles" LP. (Something I have to believe is some kind of collectors item today).
I was pleased to read in this interview with NBC, that Joel still loves much of his old music. As you might imagine, he's a little tired of playing "Just the Way You Are." And, frankly, I could die without ever hearing it again myself.
What's very cool to me is that Movin' Out has reintroduced this stuff to a whole new audience. I mean, before this show, how many other folks besides me knew "Summer Highland Falls," or even "Angry Young Man?" It's VERY cool, and a little surreal, to find these songs that have always been a part of the private soundtrack of my own life's history, up on the stage and part of a contemporary musical.
My love for Joel continued through college. I had a cardboard cut out of him up in my dorm room, and we'd listen to each and every album in my room...me and my friends, Ed, Jon, Mike, and many more in our Moore-Hill dorm. In fact, I remember Jon was in a band one year in college, and put a couple of Joel songs in their set list. Just before finals, we'd put on "Nylon Curtain," and sing "PRESSURE!" at the top of our lungs.
My favorite song then, my favorite song now --and quite possibly my favorite song of all time-- was "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant." It's just such an amazing song. It goes through three distinct musical movements. It tells three different stories simultaneously: the story of two old friends, meeting for wine...the story of how they are doing now...and the story of "Brenda and Eddie" from their high school days...then back to the present moment again.
Like any good storytelling, it leaves a lot to the imagination...is this Brenda and Eddie, meeting in the restaurant? Is it their friends? Who?
For some reason, I was really attracted to this song in high school and college. I guess it's the idea that you could have such long a history with folks that you'd be able to catch up with them years down the road. Now, in my forties, that actually does happen to me now and then. And it adds another layer to the song for me.
But I can remembering listening to this song in college --with my friends, Ed, Jon, and others-- and realizing AT THE TIME that we'd probably be each other's "Eddie's." (Makes me wonder what they're up to right now, actually...)
It's also, if I'm not mistaken, an almost eight minute song!!! Can you imagine any major artist being allowed to release an eight minute song today! The record labels wouldn't hear of it!
Dennise and I made a bet, going in, that that song would play a key part in telling the story. And, sure enough, it did. It's the first song in the show, and the last reprise of the story too...the song bookends the shows, just as the song itself bookends the story of Brenda and Eddie.
The ONLY question I have about the whole show is so minor, that all yall are going to really see what a Billy Joel geek I really am. I just don't understand why one of the characters gets the name "Judy." I mean, it IS cool that Twila Tharpe picked a character from Cold Spring Harbor....THAT'S seriously digging back into Joel's past. But what about "Diane" from "Sleeping with the Television On?" Or, what about "Virginia" from "Only the Good....?" Judy, as a charcter name, just threw me a little. Still, I guess it's cool. And it's really the only question I have about the whole show. See, I am that much of a geek.
So, I aced my prediction about "Scene from an Italian Restaurant" having a prominent role. But I did get another wrong. I guessed that "Where's the Orchestra?" would be in the show. After all, it's a show about being IN a theater. Every since the song came out, I've actually always imagined that it would be perfect for a musical. Again, this is the question that only a true Billy Joel geek would ask.
Long before iTunes, people used to make cassette mix tapes for themselves. Long before Billy Joel put out his "Greatest Hits," I put together a cassette of my own favorite Joel songs. We used to play THAT in my dorm room. I used to listen to it in the drive from Dallas to Austin in my '65 Mustang. My friends borrowed it and made their own copies.
The tape has long since vanished. But this morning, inspired by the musical, and with the help of iTunes, I made a new copy on CD.
Here's some of my own personal favorite Billy Joel songs:
Scenes from an Italian Restaurant
Stilleto
James
Movin' Out
You're My Home
Closer to the Borderline
52nd Street
Allentown
Pressure
The Ballad of Billy the Kid
Miami 2017
The Great Suburban Showdown
Summer Highland Falls
Where's the Orchestra?
There are a few others that I may add later as I think of them. But these are fine, fine songs....great, great American storytelling.
To close these kind of entries, I often quote a person's lyrics. I guess I thought I'd quote something from "Scenes," but that seems too obvious. For some reason, I'm thinking of something from "Innocent Man," which was an album that he got a lot of grief for, because folks said he was nostalgically ripping off the fifties. But perhaps nostalgia has little to do with it. Perhaps it has more to do with honoring a part of his own musical DNA, much in the same way that I'm trying to honor him by writing this.
Joel was writing about the fifties when he wrote "Keeping the Faith." But as I hear the words today, they remind me of him. After all the fifties were to him what he was to me.
And so, as I look back, and as you read all this sentimentalism on my part, here's what I'm thinking:
"If it seems like I've been lost in let's remember
If you think I'm feeling older and missing my younger days
Oh, then you should have known me much better
'Cause my past is something that never got in my way, oh no
Still I would not be here now if I never had the hunger
And I'm not ashamed to say the wild boys were my friends, oh
'Cause I never felt the desire 'til their music set me on fire
And then I was saved, yeah
That's why I'm keeping the faith, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keeping the faith....
You can get just so much from a good thing
You can linger too long in your dreams
Say goodbye to the oldies but goodies
'Cause the good old days weren't always good
And tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems....
Now I told you my reasons for the whole revival
Now I'm going outside to have an ice cold beer in the shade, oh
I'm going to listen to my 45's, ain't it wonderful to be alive
When the rock 'n' roll plays, yeah
When the memory stays, yeah
I'm keeping the faith, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keeping the faith"
(Words and Music by Billy Joel)
--30--
Bruce Rouse
Mar/03/2005 06:28 PM | Permalink
Back from
Austin, and two days with the Rouse family and all
his friends. As I mentioned at the end of last month's
blog, Bruce's family asked
me to be a part of the leadership for his memorial
service, something I considered a great, if
unwanted, honor...
Logistically, it was a little bit difficult to get it all together, since there were three folk singers, and four speakers that had been asked to participate. The singers were three of folk's greatest: Cate Campbell, Allan Shamblin, and Ray Wylie Hubbard. Everyone was incredibly accomodatingwith their time, to make it all come together.
One speaker was a coworker of Bruce's of 30 years, who talked about his worklife. Two more were house concert folks who have started their own series' because of Bruce's support and mentoring.
The last speaker was Nancy Hafner. Many folks probably don't realize that the Hafer's and the Rouse's have known each other since their kids were born....they pretty much grew up theirfamilies together.
Several of you have asked about the two poems that I shared at the funeral. So, here they are. The first is by a woman named Joyce Grenfell. I don't know anything about her, nor do I remember where I first found this poem:
"Life Goes On
If I should go before the rest of you
Break not a flower
Nor inscribe a stone
Nor when I am gone
Speak in a Sunday voice
But be the usual selves
That I have known
Weep if you must
Parting is hell
But life goes on
So .... sing as well
Joyce Grenfell 1910-1979"
The second poem was from Henry Scott Holland, who at one time was the Canon of St. Paul's Catheral, over a hundred years ago now. Interestingly, Meg Hoke told me she has this poem up on the wall in her office.
"All Is Well
Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,
Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It it the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near,
Just around the corner.
All is well.
Henry Scott Holland"
After the service, everyone adjourned to Live Oak Unitarian Church, home of the Live Oak series. There dozens and dozens of songwriters performed through the evening. Bruce's son-in-law, Lindsey Lee, mceed for the night. There was a documentary film that had been made about the Rouses' last year which got shown. It was actually a little shocking to see Bruce's face...but after the initial shock, it was nice to hear him talking about house concerts.
But most of all, the evening was filled with music. Musican after musicians got up to do a song. The gathering went on for hours, but no one really paid notice of the time. As Lindsey said, it was like one big, extended "Songwriter Breakfast." I did my song "The Natural Thing," and I was really pleased to have all 200 folks singing along with the chorus.
What EVERYONE kept remembering about Bruce, besides the fact that he was a world-class wonderful guy, was what great hugs he gave. And, as if on cue, about halfway through the night, Todd Hoke showed up with these buttons.
During the memorial service in the afternoon, I shared some of my memories of Bruce.
Here's a summary of my what I said:
To say that Bruce was a fan of folk music doesn't do it justice. Bruce was a lover, friend, and servant to the folk music community. By email this week, TR Richie called Bruce and Liz "a sparkplug in the funky old folk music engine." The "Rouse House" concert series he and Liz created was one of the most successful series in the country. They did not INVENT house concerts, but it could be argued that POPULARIZED them. They did ten shows a year for fourteen years. Liz estimates they lost about $100 bucks a show. You do the math.
But, of course, it never mattered. Because they were doing it for the love of the music, and the love of the musicians and fans who became their friends. Bruce and Liz held the "Songwriter Breakfasts" at their camp at Kerrville. (Where I first met them, and where they always graciously invited me to play&hellip They organized an area there for
the New Folk Finalists. They were inseparable
partners….they were two parts of a whole.
They loved to travel in their camper.
And if you had been to a folk festival that they hadn't heard of, they would make you sit down, tell them all about it, because that might be a place that they'd like to visit one day.
Bruce and Liz met while dancing, and they danced their whole lives. It's hard to find a man who was as admired and loved by so many.
One of the most important things we take from the death of the friend like Bruce is a question. The question is: "What it is about their life we want to immulate, and that we want to become?"
For me, the answer is: a kind, loving, and welcoming spirit….
In a Austin Stateman story this week, Christine Albert talked about the Rouse House series, and said: "They had not just rearranged their living room, they'd rearrainged their lives to do something they absolutely loved."
Rearainge your life to do something you love….
Isn't that a goal we can all take from Bruce's life?
Bruce was only a find parent to his two daughters, but Bruce was a surrogate parent and mentor to hundreds of musicians and friends. He rearrainged his life for people.
I remember Bruce best from those Kerrville songwriter breakfasts he and Liz threw.
As a songwriter myself, Bruce and Liz would always graciously insist that I come and play a song. And what I remember about Bruce from those groggy and very hazy
mornings, where nobody had slept more than about three or four hours (at best) is that Bruce was always chipper and happy. He listened to ALL the songwriters..the good, the bad, and the ugly. (And, as you know, there IS sometimes, the ugly&hellip He'd be standing at the back,
offering you a fresh cup of coffee, or a
butter-up bagel. And he'd give you a big hug
too.
Although I've been to Kerrville for several years, my wife was a first timer last May. Neither Dennise nor I was real sure whether she was going to like Kerrvile or not. I was a little afraid that, with all my raving about it, the reality would seem far less to her than what I'd built it up to be. Turns out, she loved it. That first weekend we were there, we stumbled into the Songwriter Breakfast, and I introduced Dennise to Bruce. And Bruce immediately threw his arms around her, and gave her a HUGE hug, as if Dennise was some long-lost friend that had been found. I thought a lot about that this week, after I heard Bruce had died.
You may not, but I happen to believe in life that never ends. I happen to believe in a resurrection, although I can't tell you what it's like, really. But I know that just as the bluebonnets will soon be blooming again, here in the Hill Country, life somehow always comes back around and never really ends. And if there IS a kingdom of heaven out there somewhere, I like to imagine that it's a LOT like a Rouse House gathering….
….there's music
….there's smiles
….there's love and support…
And when we get there someday, Bruce will be there, waiting with buttered bagels, fresh coffee, and the big bear hug to welcome us home.
Logistically, it was a little bit difficult to get it all together, since there were three folk singers, and four speakers that had been asked to participate. The singers were three of folk's greatest: Cate Campbell, Allan Shamblin, and Ray Wylie Hubbard. Everyone was incredibly accomodatingwith their time, to make it all come together.
One speaker was a coworker of Bruce's of 30 years, who talked about his worklife. Two more were house concert folks who have started their own series' because of Bruce's support and mentoring.
The last speaker was Nancy Hafner. Many folks probably don't realize that the Hafer's and the Rouse's have known each other since their kids were born....they pretty much grew up theirfamilies together.
Several of you have asked about the two poems that I shared at the funeral. So, here they are. The first is by a woman named Joyce Grenfell. I don't know anything about her, nor do I remember where I first found this poem:
"Life Goes On
If I should go before the rest of you
Break not a flower
Nor inscribe a stone
Nor when I am gone
Speak in a Sunday voice
But be the usual selves
That I have known
Weep if you must
Parting is hell
But life goes on
So .... sing as well
Joyce Grenfell 1910-1979"
The second poem was from Henry Scott Holland, who at one time was the Canon of St. Paul's Catheral, over a hundred years ago now. Interestingly, Meg Hoke told me she has this poem up on the wall in her office.
"All Is Well
Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,
Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It it the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near,
Just around the corner.
All is well.
Henry Scott Holland"
After the service, everyone adjourned to Live Oak Unitarian Church, home of the Live Oak series. There dozens and dozens of songwriters performed through the evening. Bruce's son-in-law, Lindsey Lee, mceed for the night. There was a documentary film that had been made about the Rouses' last year which got shown. It was actually a little shocking to see Bruce's face...but after the initial shock, it was nice to hear him talking about house concerts.
But most of all, the evening was filled with music. Musican after musicians got up to do a song. The gathering went on for hours, but no one really paid notice of the time. As Lindsey said, it was like one big, extended "Songwriter Breakfast." I did my song "The Natural Thing," and I was really pleased to have all 200 folks singing along with the chorus.
What EVERYONE kept remembering about Bruce, besides the fact that he was a world-class wonderful guy, was what great hugs he gave. And, as if on cue, about halfway through the night, Todd Hoke showed up with these buttons.
During the memorial service in the afternoon, I shared some of my memories of Bruce.
Here's a summary of my what I said:
To say that Bruce was a fan of folk music doesn't do it justice. Bruce was a lover, friend, and servant to the folk music community. By email this week, TR Richie called Bruce and Liz "a sparkplug in the funky old folk music engine." The "Rouse House" concert series he and Liz created was one of the most successful series in the country. They did not INVENT house concerts, but it could be argued that POPULARIZED them. They did ten shows a year for fourteen years. Liz estimates they lost about $100 bucks a show. You do the math.
But, of course, it never mattered. Because they were doing it for the love of the music, and the love of the musicians and fans who became their friends. Bruce and Liz held the "Songwriter Breakfasts" at their camp at Kerrville. (Where I first met them, and where they always graciously invited me to play&hellip
They organized an area there for
the New Folk Finalists. They were inseparable
partners….they were two parts of a whole.
They loved to travel in their camper.
And if you had been to a folk festival that they hadn't heard of, they would make you sit down, tell them all about it, because that might be a place that they'd like to visit one day.
Bruce and Liz met while dancing, and they danced their whole lives. It's hard to find a man who was as admired and loved by so many.
One of the most important things we take from the death of the friend like Bruce is a question. The question is: "What it is about their life we want to immulate, and that we want to become?"
For me, the answer is: a kind, loving, and welcoming spirit….
In a Austin Stateman story this week, Christine Albert talked about the Rouse House series, and said: "They had not just rearranged their living room, they'd rearrainged their lives to do something they absolutely loved."
Rearainge your life to do something you love….
Isn't that a goal we can all take from Bruce's life?
Bruce was only a find parent to his two daughters, but Bruce was a surrogate parent and mentor to hundreds of musicians and friends. He rearrainged his life for people.
I remember Bruce best from those Kerrville songwriter breakfasts he and Liz threw.
As a songwriter myself, Bruce and Liz would always graciously insist that I come and play a song. And what I remember about Bruce from those groggy and very hazy
mornings, where nobody had slept more than about three or four hours (at best) is that Bruce was always chipper and happy. He listened to ALL the songwriters..the good, the bad, and the ugly. (And, as you know, there IS sometimes, the ugly&hellip
He'd be standing at the back,
offering you a fresh cup of coffee, or a
butter-up bagel. And he'd give you a big hug
too.
Although I've been to Kerrville for several years, my wife was a first timer last May. Neither Dennise nor I was real sure whether she was going to like Kerrvile or not. I was a little afraid that, with all my raving about it, the reality would seem far less to her than what I'd built it up to be. Turns out, she loved it. That first weekend we were there, we stumbled into the Songwriter Breakfast, and I introduced Dennise to Bruce. And Bruce immediately threw his arms around her, and gave her a HUGE hug, as if Dennise was some long-lost friend that had been found. I thought a lot about that this week, after I heard Bruce had died.
You may not, but I happen to believe in life that never ends. I happen to believe in a resurrection, although I can't tell you what it's like, really. But I know that just as the bluebonnets will soon be blooming again, here in the Hill Country, life somehow always comes back around and never really ends. And if there IS a kingdom of heaven out there somewhere, I like to imagine that it's a LOT like a Rouse House gathering….
….there's music
….there's smiles
….there's love and support…
And when we get there someday, Bruce will be there, waiting with buttered bagels, fresh coffee, and the big bear hug to welcome us home.
Bruce Rouse Dies
Feb/25/2005 07:08 AM | Permalink
Bruce
Rouse Dies
Unbelievable. Another folk music friend has died. The email came in yesterday that Bruce Rouse died over the weekend. I talked with his family some in the past few hours, and they have asked me to help lead the funeral on Wednesday. It's an honor, but one I'd rather not have. What a shock. Apparently, he had a heart attack while driving around the Austin area on Sunday. From what I can tell, he never had a heart problem before...
Bruce and his wife Liz are two of the kindest people I know in the folk music world. They hosted a very successful and celebrated house concert series in Austin for 15 years. And they hosted a breakfast at a Kerrville during the weekends. That's the place I remember Bruce the best...always hovering around, making sure everyone had fresh coffee and a new bagel.
Hosting all sorts of songwriters, to play an early morning song, and share a story. In many ways, Bruce and Liz were like surrogate parents to a whole lot of folks.
I'll be heading down there tomorrow (Tuesday) afternoon, and help with the service on Wednesday.
That night, there'll be a song gathering at Live Oak UU Church (home of the Live Oak Coffeehouse) where folks will be invited to play and share stories.
Still, quite an unbelievable shock. I can't say that I've ever had a several-week period where so many people I know have died. (see below). It's been very strange and surreal, and this is yet another piece of the strangeness of it.
Bruce will be sorely missed by many. I'll write more once I'm back.
Unbelievable. Another folk music friend has died. The email came in yesterday that Bruce Rouse died over the weekend. I talked with his family some in the past few hours, and they have asked me to help lead the funeral on Wednesday. It's an honor, but one I'd rather not have. What a shock. Apparently, he had a heart attack while driving around the Austin area on Sunday. From what I can tell, he never had a heart problem before...
Bruce and his wife Liz are two of the kindest people I know in the folk music world. They hosted a very successful and celebrated house concert series in Austin for 15 years. And they hosted a breakfast at a Kerrville during the weekends. That's the place I remember Bruce the best...always hovering around, making sure everyone had fresh coffee and a new bagel.
Hosting all sorts of songwriters, to play an early morning song, and share a story. In many ways, Bruce and Liz were like surrogate parents to a whole lot of folks.
I'll be heading down there tomorrow (Tuesday) afternoon, and help with the service on Wednesday.
That night, there'll be a song gathering at Live Oak UU Church (home of the Live Oak Coffeehouse) where folks will be invited to play and share stories.
Still, quite an unbelievable shock. I can't say that I've ever had a several-week period where so many people I know have died. (see below). It's been very strange and surreal, and this is yet another piece of the strangeness of it.
Bruce will be sorely missed by many. I'll write more once I'm back.
--30--
Rachel Bissex
Feb/24/2005 06:27 PM | Permalink
Rachel's funeral was yesterday,
up in Vermont. As I moved through the day
yesterday, I
thought more and more about her. I swapped emails with Annie Wenz this week. Annie was a very good friend of Rachel's, and in addition to being a fine singer-songwriter, she was a psych nurse for many years. I told Annie I could think of no one better to help Rachel and her family through those last days than her. I think she'll probably post some of her own thoughts about Rachel's life and death as the days pass.
For my part, I found myself listening to a lot of Rachel's music yesterday. It was sort of a way to be in spiritual solidarity with all those who were gathered, during those same moments, in Vermont to say goodbye. The first song that leapt immediately to mind is Rachel's song, "Royal Blue," which features the great chorus, "Do not be afraid."
But the song that grabbed me, and brought tears to my eyes as I drove around yesterday, was "In White Light." (click on the song title for a clip of it...) I thought about all those folks gathered to say goodbye to her. I don't believe Rachel was saying goodbye to everyone through this song. But now, in retrospect, it's easy, and hard, to hear it that way. Had to pull the car over when the last verse came on.
Any song about the moon is also going to remind me of song circles at Kerrville. I can remembersome of the circles, last year I think, at SingKerrnicity, which was a favorite camp of Rachel's. The moon was so bright, that the SingKerrnicity folks moved their circle out into the meadow, and just let the light of the moon shine down on everyone. Out at the Ranch, it really does bathe everyone with an incredible white light....and on the fields and meadows...the tops of your heads. And you can see everyone, but not their faces...just the glowing outlines. So, as you sit around the circles, it's as if the
music comes out of nowhere, out of these shapes across the circle from you. And the moon bathes and graces it all. I have a memory of Rachel there, singing in the moonlight.
I hope many of you will visit her website, and buy her music. I know that that is a way that her legacy can continue, and that you can help her help her children in the future.
In White Light
Words and music by Rachel Bissex
"The sun goes down
the moon comes up
lighting the earth
just enough
to see my face looking up
at her full size on the horizon.
Mama did her best, it's true.
Papa too.
Now they're gone
i'm on my own
the moon will see me safely home
as I drive this road alone
she will bathe me in white light.
In white light....
The sun come up
the moon dissapears
but she'll be back later on my dear
tonight she'll shine
with a little less light
with all her might.
I pushed a boy into the world
now he wears a uniform
I bore a son
my only one
the moon will see him safely home
as he walks his path alone
she will bathe him in white light
In white light....
It's time to go
i hope you know
the moon will see you safely home
as you live your life alone
she will bathe you in white light
In white light...."
thought more and more about her. I swapped emails with Annie Wenz this week. Annie was a very good friend of Rachel's, and in addition to being a fine singer-songwriter, she was a psych nurse for many years. I told Annie I could think of no one better to help Rachel and her family through those last days than her. I think she'll probably post some of her own thoughts about Rachel's life and death as the days pass.
For my part, I found myself listening to a lot of Rachel's music yesterday. It was sort of a way to be in spiritual solidarity with all those who were gathered, during those same moments, in Vermont to say goodbye. The first song that leapt immediately to mind is Rachel's song, "Royal Blue," which features the great chorus, "Do not be afraid."
But the song that grabbed me, and brought tears to my eyes as I drove around yesterday, was "In White Light." (click on the song title for a clip of it...) I thought about all those folks gathered to say goodbye to her. I don't believe Rachel was saying goodbye to everyone through this song. But now, in retrospect, it's easy, and hard, to hear it that way. Had to pull the car over when the last verse came on.
Any song about the moon is also going to remind me of song circles at Kerrville. I can remembersome of the circles, last year I think, at SingKerrnicity, which was a favorite camp of Rachel's. The moon was so bright, that the SingKerrnicity folks moved their circle out into the meadow, and just let the light of the moon shine down on everyone. Out at the Ranch, it really does bathe everyone with an incredible white light....and on the fields and meadows...the tops of your heads. And you can see everyone, but not their faces...just the glowing outlines. So, as you sit around the circles, it's as if the
music comes out of nowhere, out of these shapes across the circle from you. And the moon bathes and graces it all. I have a memory of Rachel there, singing in the moonlight.
I hope many of you will visit her website, and buy her music. I know that that is a way that her legacy can continue, and that you can help her help her children in the future.
In White Light
Words and music by Rachel Bissex
"The sun goes down
the moon comes up
lighting the earth
just enough
to see my face looking up
at her full size on the horizon.
Mama did her best, it's true.
Papa too.
Now they're gone
i'm on my own
the moon will see me safely home
as I drive this road alone
she will bathe me in white light.
In white light....
The sun come up
the moon dissapears
but she'll be back later on my dear
tonight she'll shine
with a little less light
with all her might.
I pushed a boy into the world
now he wears a uniform
I bore a son
my only one
the moon will see him safely home
as he walks his path alone
she will bathe him in white light
In white light....
It's time to go
i hope you know
the moon will see you safely home
as you live your life alone
she will bathe you in white light
In white light...."
--30--
Too Much Death (Rachel Bissex has died. So has my
next-door neighbor)
Feb/21/2005 06:21 PM | Permalink
I was
planning to blog a little about my quick trip to
Austin last week. But other stuff has been happening
that has sort of pushed that aside. I find that,
during the past few weeks, a lot of folks I know, one
way or another, have died. More than usual.
A couple of weeks ago, the Mom of a very old friend. Last Thursday, our next-door-neighbor, Mr. Cooper. He had cancer, but he died of pnuemonia. I saw him a the hospital a couple of days before he died, and he actually looked like a guy on the road to recovery...at least temporarily... certainly not like someone who'd be dead two days later.
Friday, after I got back from my trip to Austin, I went back by his room to see if he was there, and he wasn't. And I just assumed that meant he was able to go home and rest. I saw Mrs. Cooper the next morning, and she told me the news. Just shocking.
Then I was leaving the hospital last Friday, on that same trip to see Mr. Cooper, I just
happened to bump into the director of the preschool at our church, and her husband. He's also been suffering from cancer. They were in for a routine pain management treatment, that was so non-invasive that it's sometimes done in an "outpatient" setting. I shook his hand, and his grip was firm and strong. I thought, yes, he may have cancer, but he's got some time left too.
Yesterday morning, Sunday, I got the word that he had died just a few hours after that. Cardiac arrest, coming out of the "minor" proceedure.
Both those deaths were shocking enough. But this morning, I woke to an email that says Rachel Bissex has died. Rachel was a wonderful human being, and a great, great musician. She had a fantastically giving personal spirit. She had cancer a few years back, and had had to take a lot of time off the road. I remember seeing her at the South Florida Folk Festival last January. It was one of the first gigs she was playing since returning from beating the cancer. (In fact, we shared the mainstage Friday night, at the pre-festival concert...) Her hair was growing back in grey and wirey. But I thought to myself that she looked like she'd beat it.
It was shortlived. Sometime last Fall, it came back again, with a vengeance.
Most of the folk music folks I know can tell you a lot of stories about Rachel, and about what a great person she is. I remember times in song circles with her at Kerrville, and at SWRFA.... sometimes circles that would go until very late at night, with just a few of us sitting around trading songs. She seemed to never tire of trading songs. When she gave you her attention, she gave her FULL attention and care and you felt like she was listening to you and you alone.
The time I remember most was when she came through town back in 2002, and did some recording for my CD, and I was her roadie for a gig in Fort Worth. She was in and around town for about a week, and so I asked her if she'd do some recording. She was incredibly grascious with her time, and drove with me over to the studio where I was recording. She did a harmony vocal on "Free My Hands," and "Love Song That's True." Both songs are still waiting to be released on my CD whenever it gets done...you can listen to the clips here.
She was an especially good trouper since, when we got to the studio, one of the secretaries had a cold that no one had told us about. Sure enough, Rachel caught it!! But she never once complained, even though, if I had been her, I would have been pissed.
I lent her my sound system and drove her to a gig she had in Fort Worth later that week. (At the Flying Saucer, I think...). After the gig, we caught a beer at at Fort Worth Stockyard place that had some guy playing old country songs. Rachel seemed fascinated by the whole cowtown thing.
We had a good time, just driving and talking the 60 mile round trip. She was very proud of her kids. But I know she also worried about them a lot. She was really honored to finally be getting some major recognition for her music (she'd won Wildflower and Kerrville the year before...) I remember she said she might do some theater down the road, because her husband was into that. (I noticed her obit said she'd directed a play in 2004). Most of all, she had a great way of putting people at ease, and of not taking herself too seriously.
I feel honored to have known her, and I'm terribly sad and shocked that she's gone.
A couple of weeks ago, the Mom of a very old friend. Last Thursday, our next-door-neighbor, Mr. Cooper. He had cancer, but he died of pnuemonia. I saw him a the hospital a couple of days before he died, and he actually looked like a guy on the road to recovery...at least temporarily... certainly not like someone who'd be dead two days later.
Friday, after I got back from my trip to Austin, I went back by his room to see if he was there, and he wasn't. And I just assumed that meant he was able to go home and rest. I saw Mrs. Cooper the next morning, and she told me the news. Just shocking.
Then I was leaving the hospital last Friday, on that same trip to see Mr. Cooper, I just
happened to bump into the director of the preschool at our church, and her husband. He's also been suffering from cancer. They were in for a routine pain management treatment, that was so non-invasive that it's sometimes done in an "outpatient" setting. I shook his hand, and his grip was firm and strong. I thought, yes, he may have cancer, but he's got some time left too.
Yesterday morning, Sunday, I got the word that he had died just a few hours after that. Cardiac arrest, coming out of the "minor" proceedure.
Both those deaths were shocking enough. But this morning, I woke to an email that says Rachel Bissex has died. Rachel was a wonderful human being, and a great, great musician. She had a fantastically giving personal spirit. She had cancer a few years back, and had had to take a lot of time off the road. I remember seeing her at the South Florida Folk Festival last January. It was one of the first gigs she was playing since returning from beating the cancer. (In fact, we shared the mainstage Friday night, at the pre-festival concert...) Her hair was growing back in grey and wirey. But I thought to myself that she looked like she'd beat it.
It was shortlived. Sometime last Fall, it came back again, with a vengeance.
Most of the folk music folks I know can tell you a lot of stories about Rachel, and about what a great person she is. I remember times in song circles with her at Kerrville, and at SWRFA.... sometimes circles that would go until very late at night, with just a few of us sitting around trading songs. She seemed to never tire of trading songs. When she gave you her attention, she gave her FULL attention and care and you felt like she was listening to you and you alone.
The time I remember most was when she came through town back in 2002, and did some recording for my CD, and I was her roadie for a gig in Fort Worth. She was in and around town for about a week, and so I asked her if she'd do some recording. She was incredibly grascious with her time, and drove with me over to the studio where I was recording. She did a harmony vocal on "Free My Hands," and "Love Song That's True." Both songs are still waiting to be released on my CD whenever it gets done...you can listen to the clips here.
She was an especially good trouper since, when we got to the studio, one of the secretaries had a cold that no one had told us about. Sure enough, Rachel caught it!! But she never once complained, even though, if I had been her, I would have been pissed.
I lent her my sound system and drove her to a gig she had in Fort Worth later that week. (At the Flying Saucer, I think...). After the gig, we caught a beer at at Fort Worth Stockyard place that had some guy playing old country songs. Rachel seemed fascinated by the whole cowtown thing.
We had a good time, just driving and talking the 60 mile round trip. She was very proud of her kids. But I know she also worried about them a lot. She was really honored to finally be getting some major recognition for her music (she'd won Wildflower and Kerrville the year before...) I remember she said she might do some theater down the road, because her husband was into that. (I noticed her obit said she'd directed a play in 2004). Most of all, she had a great way of putting people at ease, and of not taking herself too seriously.
I feel honored to have known her, and I'm terribly sad and shocked that she's gone.
--30--
Only the Beginning: I confess my undying love for the
band, Chicago.
Feb/03/2005 06:25 PM | Permalink
Bought two
CDs the other day: "Chicago: The Very Best of: Only
the Beginning."
Man! I love this disk!! If you have been looking for just ONE Chicago CD to own, this should be it.
Some of you who know my music may be surprised to find that for many years of my life, I was a HUGE Chicago fan. I still am. They're not making as much music as they once did, of course, but I'm still a fan...
This two-CD anthology traces their career all the way back to "the beginning." It's got every hit that ever made it on to the charts for them. This is important, because their "Greatest Hit" collections usually center on the MONSTER hits. This one includes everything that ever charted for them...which is most of the songs in this collection. The CD has a great synopsis of their career, and really intricate liner notes about each song, and where it finished on the charts.
Here are some of Chicago's stats:
-- Five consecutive number one albums
-- 20 Top Ten Singles
-- Fifteen platinum albums
-- Thirty -seven songs that charted at some level over the years.
I was always a HUGE fan. I am the proud owner of every single one of Chicago's studio releases... That's 21 LPs.
Significant for me, is the inclusion of songs like "Happy Man," and "Another Rainy Day in New York City." Those were always favorites of mine, but I didn't know anyone else liked them. The collection also has some early songs like "Questions 67 and 68, "I'm a Man," and "Free."
One of my very favorite pieces of music is the "Ballet for a Girl in Buchannon," from Chicago II. Many folks don't realize that "Make Me Smile" and "Color My World" were both lifted from this longer work. I love to listen to the whole thing. (It's NOT on this hits collection, btw...) Can you imagine ANY band putting out a fifteen minute song today?!
I know, I know...a lot of folks will slam them for going for the cheap ballads during the later years. And those ballads certainly aren't my own personal favorites. But, it seems to me you have to admire a group that can just last that long....a group that can have top ten smash hits in the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s. The set of folks who did that is very, very small.
I, for one, never begrudge artists for changing with the times, and doing what they can to get their stuff out there. The music business is pretty tough, and that kind of longevity really IS rare.
So anyway, I've been really digging this compilation, and really enjoying going down memory lane.
Those who don't know their earlier as well may be surprised to find that they had a lot of
politically edgy stuff back in the day. A song called "Song for Richard and His Friends," was a scathing anti-war anthem during the Vietnaam era.
There was a great interview of Robert Lamm and James Pankow a couple of years back in Performing Songwriter Magazine. Here's a transcript of the entire interview.
Another song that is bitingly political, but most folks don't get, is "Dialogue (Parts I and II)" from Chicago V. For some reason, the song didn't make it on the first "Greatest Hits" compilation, despite the fact that it climbed to #24 on the charts at the time. The positive-feeling music masks some really biting lyrics. And I thought I'd post them for you today. Because, it strikes me that in a lot of ways, we're right back in the same place again. There are so many folks out there today who think the world is "just fine." There are many more of us who think we've never been in a bigger mess.
So, take a look at the lyrics. In the original song, Terry Kath asks all the questions, and Peter Cetera gives the answers. I like to imagine that George W Bush is giving the answers today:
Dialogue, by Chicago
"Part I
Are you optimistic 'bout the way things are going?
No, I never ever think of it at all
Don't you ever worry
When you see what's going down?
No, I try to mind my business, that is, no business at all
When it's time to function as a feeling human being
Will your Bachelor of Arts help you get by?
I hope to study further, a few more years or so
I also hope to keep a steady high
Will you try to change things
Use the power that you have, the power of a million new ideas?
What is this power you speak of and this need for things to change?
I always thought that everything was fine
Don't you feel repression just closing in around?
No, the campus here is very, very free
Don't it make you angry the way war is dragging on?
Well, I hope the President knows what he's into, I don't know
Don't you ever see the starvation in the city where you live
All the needless hunger all the needless pain?
I haven't been there lately, the country is so fine
But my neighbors don't seem hungry 'cause they haven't got the time
Thank you for the talk, you know you really eased my mind
I was troubled by the shapes of things to come
Well, if you had my outlook your feelings would be numb
You'd always think that everything was fine"
Part two is still true, despite how many naive people there are out there:
Part II
"We can make it happen
We can change the world now
We can save the children
We can make it better
We can make it happen
We can save the children
We can make it happen"
Man! I love this disk!! If you have been looking for just ONE Chicago CD to own, this should be it.
Some of you who know my music may be surprised to find that for many years of my life, I was a HUGE Chicago fan. I still am. They're not making as much music as they once did, of course, but I'm still a fan...
This two-CD anthology traces their career all the way back to "the beginning." It's got every hit that ever made it on to the charts for them. This is important, because their "Greatest Hit" collections usually center on the MONSTER hits. This one includes everything that ever charted for them...which is most of the songs in this collection. The CD has a great synopsis of their career, and really intricate liner notes about each song, and where it finished on the charts.
Here are some of Chicago's stats:
-- Five consecutive number one albums
-- 20 Top Ten Singles
-- Fifteen platinum albums
-- Thirty -seven songs that charted at some level over the years.
I was always a HUGE fan. I am the proud owner of every single one of Chicago's studio releases... That's 21 LPs.
Significant for me, is the inclusion of songs like "Happy Man," and "Another Rainy Day in New York City." Those were always favorites of mine, but I didn't know anyone else liked them. The collection also has some early songs like "Questions 67 and 68, "I'm a Man," and "Free."
One of my very favorite pieces of music is the "Ballet for a Girl in Buchannon," from Chicago II. Many folks don't realize that "Make Me Smile" and "Color My World" were both lifted from this longer work. I love to listen to the whole thing. (It's NOT on this hits collection, btw...) Can you imagine ANY band putting out a fifteen minute song today?!
I know, I know...a lot of folks will slam them for going for the cheap ballads during the later years. And those ballads certainly aren't my own personal favorites. But, it seems to me you have to admire a group that can just last that long....a group that can have top ten smash hits in the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s. The set of folks who did that is very, very small.
I, for one, never begrudge artists for changing with the times, and doing what they can to get their stuff out there. The music business is pretty tough, and that kind of longevity really IS rare.
So anyway, I've been really digging this compilation, and really enjoying going down memory lane.
Those who don't know their earlier as well may be surprised to find that they had a lot of
politically edgy stuff back in the day. A song called "Song for Richard and His Friends," was a scathing anti-war anthem during the Vietnaam era.
There was a great interview of Robert Lamm and James Pankow a couple of years back in Performing Songwriter Magazine. Here's a transcript of the entire interview.
Another song that is bitingly political, but most folks don't get, is "Dialogue (Parts I and II)" from Chicago V. For some reason, the song didn't make it on the first "Greatest Hits" compilation, despite the fact that it climbed to #24 on the charts at the time. The positive-feeling music masks some really biting lyrics. And I thought I'd post them for you today. Because, it strikes me that in a lot of ways, we're right back in the same place again. There are so many folks out there today who think the world is "just fine." There are many more of us who think we've never been in a bigger mess.
So, take a look at the lyrics. In the original song, Terry Kath asks all the questions, and Peter Cetera gives the answers. I like to imagine that George W Bush is giving the answers today:
Dialogue, by Chicago
"Part I
Are you optimistic 'bout the way things are going?
No, I never ever think of it at all
Don't you ever worry
When you see what's going down?
No, I try to mind my business, that is, no business at all
When it's time to function as a feeling human being
Will your Bachelor of Arts help you get by?
I hope to study further, a few more years or so
I also hope to keep a steady high
Will you try to change things
Use the power that you have, the power of a million new ideas?
What is this power you speak of and this need for things to change?
I always thought that everything was fine
Don't you feel repression just closing in around?
No, the campus here is very, very free
Don't it make you angry the way war is dragging on?
Well, I hope the President knows what he's into, I don't know
Don't you ever see the starvation in the city where you live
All the needless hunger all the needless pain?
I haven't been there lately, the country is so fine
But my neighbors don't seem hungry 'cause they haven't got the time
Thank you for the talk, you know you really eased my mind
I was troubled by the shapes of things to come
Well, if you had my outlook your feelings would be numb
You'd always think that everything was fine"
Part two is still true, despite how many naive people there are out there:
Part II
"We can make it happen
We can change the world now
We can save the children
We can make it better
We can make it happen
We can save the children
We can make it happen"
--30--
Erik Balkey
Jan/13/2005 06:25 PM | Permalink
Got to hang
with Erik Balkey a little bit on
Friday. Great to see him and catch up. He came
over and we caught lunch at Cindy's, and then came
back home and traded a few songs here. He's
playing in and around Dallas several times during
this next week, so be sure and go catch him if you
can...
Erik's a hardworking, hard-travelling songwriter, whose become a good friend these last couple of years. I first met him on the internet, when we both had pages on the old "mp3.com." I think I met him in the real world a couple of years ago, when he was a Wildflower and Kerrville finalist.
Since then, we catch up at Kerrville about once a year. So, it was nice to get the chance to see him inbetween those times. He's writing a lot of great new songs that he shared with me.
Erik's a hardworking, hard-travelling songwriter, whose become a good friend these last couple of years. I first met him on the internet, when we both had pages on the old "mp3.com." I think I met him in the real world a couple of years ago, when he was a Wildflower and Kerrville finalist.
Since then, we catch up at Kerrville about once a year. So, it was nice to get the chance to see him inbetween those times. He's writing a lot of great new songs that he shared with me.
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