9/3/22

Love Living this Life

This is the time of life that requires some reflexion, some musings about the past, the present and the future. In two days (the 5th) I will have my 80th birthday. Somber. Joyous! Bewildering? How many other expressions shall I name? Well, I suppose none are really necessary, it is just another day in this life. And there is the bigger wonderment—“this life!”

Eighty years ago, on a small farm about 4 miles from the nearest small town, Dr. Murphy showed up for the 3rd time to deliver to the Lockhart family one more boy (me)—the 6th, after having 2 girls. Dr. Murphy was old enough that his practice was over before I ever needed to go to a doctor or if I did it was when I was so young I have no memory of it. I grew up hearing about him and his brother whom my father said he wouldn’t take a dog to! I assume that Dr. Murphy was not a good ol’ doc, at least not to the likings of my dad.

The farm was about a tenth of a mile off the paved road which had just been reduced in importance by the federal government when the military opened a nearby army base—Camp Atterbury. (They had to re-route Ind.252 around the camp, so it now was a new road on the North side of the camp.) That wasn’t a detriment to the farmers in the area, but before too many years the old road looked old and somewhat unkempt. Today, all that area and for miles in each direction is what Central Indiana folks know as country living—beautiful small farms, just some acreage, or living in the woods, it is all lovely to visit. To this day, every trip to Indiana takes me to that little road along side the creek, just to enjoy looking at it: Indian Creek Road. Used to be working farms on both sides of the road and creek; now just beautiful homes on picturesque home sights, some with acres and horses, some just homes—all the epitome of comfort.

I got a little more than 4 years of the farm life before the family sold it and moved to town—Trafalgar. About 400 people lived there at the time and 22 years later when Barbara and I took our young family and moved to Danville, IL it had 439 people. Today it is about 1400 and still has much the same charm and comfort built into it that I enjoyed growing up. The older I get the more I wonder about what would these 80 years have been like had I not left that idyllic setting. … .. Well, never mind, I did leave, and I do get to go back and enjoy it and still have many friends there!

I’ve mentioned in previous blogs that I went to 12 straight school grades in the same 3-story building. So much familiarity as those years rolled by: I couldn’t have survived a move to a different school(this thought always brings about my sincerest apologies to my 3 children for all the moves I put them through.) The school’s two sports, basketball and baseball, captivated me at a young age and throughout the 12 years the only prevailing thought was become better each year than I was the year before; didn’t always succeed, but there was always joy in the trying. Personally, there are two things my mind has never let me remember: even though I was always the shortest man on my high school basketball team (5’6” is the tallest I became), I never remember having a shot blocked by a defender,…never. The second thing is in baseball at bat, I never struck out. Reality certainly will deny that, but I have absolutely no recollection of either thing happening! I was a good hitter, and in basketball I was not a big shooter, so I gladly believe my memory instead of some silly statistical record!

Oh, the school memories that come flooding back to me as I write this! I best move on to other things, don’t you think?

In 1960, momentous events took place that frames most everything which will be written: I was on a Redbirds championship (in one sense: we didn’t win tournaments but we won the county league championship) basketball team; graduated; got married and we had our first child, our oldest son before the year ran out—PHEW! A lot to take in for two 17 year olds. Jobs were short lived in the ensuing 4 years, finally landing a pretty good job with a factory office in Columbus, IN, about 35 miles from home. So we moved. Left Trafalgar! A second job, part-time made it possible to keep our heads above water and adding a second son was just really great. Both boys were a joy then, always were, and are now! And living in the same town in which we live now after 40 years of being parted by life’s circumstances. Two years in Columbus and two jobs all the time prepared me for a bigger jump in the business world, becoming a manager of a small jewelry store which brought on a big move, and further from home: Danville, IL, 110 miles from Trafalgar.

We spent 8 years and 5 months living in the Danville, IL area, living in two other cities, as well. In the end of the second month living there (22yrs, 2 mons.old) I trusted the Lord Jesus Christ as my Savior on a Thursday night. My life slowly looked different to me—still walking around in sorry flesh, but knowing the Lord knew me was always a comfort, even if I was in the wrong.

In February, 1973, I moved my family to Oxford, AL, about 468 miles from Trafalgar, as I opened a carpet and carpet cleaning establishment in Anniston. It was a struggle from the beginning and had an early demise—about 16 months. There wasn’t much trouble finding another job, but there was trouble with no money to pay off the business debts. I had some personal help and some very patient accounts payables and we came out of it fairly soon. Meantime, some very important things happened and we wound up in Birmingham, AL—living in the suburb of Hoover in an apartment for a couple of years. And now we are about 510 miles from Trafalgar.

There was a brief time (18months) of going back to Danville, IL for an interim job, but then back to Alabama. After almost a year more in the Birmingham area, we moved to Mobile, AL for a little more than 7 years. Oh, that was 745 miles from Trafalgar.

In May of 1985 I began to make trips each month to the San Antonio, TX area and teach a couple of Bible classes. In August of 1986 we moved to New Braunfels, TX, just up the road from San Antonio. We stayed longer there than anywhere else we’ve lived—27 years. And that was 1148 miles from Trafalgar. While there, however, we knew the Lord was leading and never did we have any worries about “the next meal,” so to speak. Not that we got rich by any means, but doing what we knew the Lord would have us to do gave a sense of accomplishment never before experienced. Teaching bible classes in several cities and driving to them was always a joy to do. Some were not too far away, but Texas is big and many were far enough away I had to stay overnight. The Lord always provided a place to stay, be it the money to stay in a hotel or a room provided by a bible student (early on, my son lived in one of those towns.)

Life extended into my early 70s till I decided pastoring should be done by those younger than me and we returned to Alabama — a place in which we could afford to live, Fort Payne, AL, our present home. It’s just 428 miles from Trafalgar—-slowly we move back,.. maybe.

Has this abbreviated life story been about us or Trafalgar ?

Thanks for reading—-The Elder

July 30, 2022

COMFORT, CRITICISM, some of both

How about I start this page off with an old-habitual-feature-not-forgotten? My Song In My Head! In the past blogs, I often told of the song in my head when I awaken each day—there is always one. A couple of days ago, my wife and I went out of town to a memorial (more on that later) and coming home we listened to an old Neil Diamond CD. The SIMH this morning was from that album: SoolaiMon! A song saying “hello,” saying “welcome,” saying “goodbye,” saying “peace be with you.” It just hasn’t left my mind this morning(4hrs hence.) As I mused several years ago, I have no reason for songs to come to mind each morning. If there was a pattern for types of songs or a conscious recollection, even a guilty one!—perhaps I’d understand it. But, nay.

Neil Diamond had this African folk greeting arranged for his concerts and it was often his opening number, I read. Glad he liked it that much, but he can have it back from me if he’d like!

The redeeming part of this song (if there is one) is about what and whom to follow—not about where it might take one. The lyrics, “God of my want, want, want” might seem prayer like. Followed by “Lord of my need, need, need!” might seem sort of obedient to one’s master. But, then following that thought simply takes us back to addiction or dependence or something worse, in the lyrics which follow. I don’t really think its lyricists were thinking spiritually—unless the spirits were in the bottle they were sipping on. Enough.

We had attended a final memorial for a remarkable 38 year life which ended earlier in the week. Josh Emmons, born with Apert Syndrome, having very limited physical abilities and mental acuity, died as a result of just too much: too much abnormality, too much surgery (stop counting at 26), just too wearied by it all to go on. His body just said no more, and the Lord agreed. Josh had a certain attitude towards the life he was privileged to lead that beheld, even magnified his innocence! He never complained unless his folks reminded him he had to take the trash out when he was playing a video game and didn’t want to be interrupted. 

Josh was loved by so many people, for so many things, so many accolades about his overcoming nature — he had no joints in his fingers accept the base joint at the end of his hands. Doctors said he couldn’t lift anything, yet one of his business ventures was vending machines to which he carried soft drinks, 2 cases at a time, that sort of overcoming. All his family and closest friends had so many things to remember and the joy and laughter in celebrating his life had to ease the pain of his unexpected passing; comfort they all 4 needed! 

We’ve known Josh’s mother since she was 16 and have loved her as if she was part of our own family. She is a remarkable mom to Josh and his two sisters. His father is the kind of a father who has done the necessary things to be what Josh and his siblings needed. I’m sure his career would have been enhanced, at least in the eyes of successful people, had he not taken the extra time and effort because Josh was his son. I have great admiration for the obvious love and devotion he showed (an example of “I AM SECOND.”) We were honored to be at the memorial.

One Last Thing: Our town is in the process of deciding to spend $4 million for infrastructure of a certain piece of property, turning it over to the land owner’s developer to build a grocery store which the bulk of the people do not want, nor think we need. 

Most often, I would not be adverse to this, but it is a less than adequate property for this use and superior property for another much needed useful addition, having been in the plans for this city for 40 years now, yet has never been brought to fruition. How can we who are merely citizenry, just idly watch this take place! We feel powerless, so I suppose we are. I have opinions, but they haven’t called,…they haven’t written, …..like they don’t care for my great wisdom,….(sigh.)

Thanks for reading, the Elder.

July 2, 2022 The Lord’s Help With Opportunities

Opportunities to do things in business is, of course driven by the business purpose, the “cause” of the business. General application of sound business practices will keep proving themselves sound if what is being followed is bringing about the desired results. The bible tells us “The desire accomplished is sweet to the soul.”—Prov. 13:19 (the context is a contrast with a fool—the Bible has a lot to say about a fool.)

Seeing one’s business opportunities, then, is predicated on several things: the product involved, the materials to produce the product, the people who know how to bring forth the product, and the resources to produce. Resourcing is a bit more than simply money. But if there’s no money, it quickly becomes the number one priority. The bible also tells us “…money is a defense”—Eccl.7:12 and also “…money answereth all things”—Eccl.10:19 (the context of both passages is to get and use wisdom.) 

Finding money for a business is simple but not always wise. If one has no money, one cannot start a business. If one doesn’t see that as a deterrent then comes the hunt for money: spouse or other family member? venture capitalists, bank loan, sell existing assets? These are all possible in varying degrees of opportunity and the selection process has many, many consequences. 

Venture Capitalists have the money, but they are with you on the basis of your business plan and have little to no sympathy for changing it (they don’t lend their money without the spying eye inside your work-a-day world.) VC involvement is seldom a happy stroll through the park. Following 1 These.4:11 (And that ye study to be quiet, and to do your own business, and to work with your own hands….) might be very difficult with VCs involved. Sort of cuts slashes in the business opportunity, doesn’t it.

Bank loans are not totally different from venture capitalists though they have their own foibles. Bank loans today always rely on a specific repayment amount to be returned to them each month. No varying from that, it is set in a “concrete” lien reduction contract. (You pay or we foreclose, that sort of thing.)

There was a time when one could step into his local bank, say hello to his friends who worked there who helped him manage his money in a checking account, etc. Then walk over to the president’s desk and say, “Joe, I need $5,000 for about 90 days, ok?” Joe would say, “Sure thing, Abe, just sign this note and take it over to Hillary’s window and she’ll put the money in your account.” “6% per annum, ok?” Sure. 90 days later walk into the teller and say, “Hillary, I want to pay the interest on my note, and renew for another 90 days, ok?” hand her $75, she gets the nod from Joe, hands a receipt over and a new note to sign and nobody worries about it for another 3 months…..Try that today. That simple process is gone forever.

See here of what the Lord reminded some men about their own business (of course, the Lord was using this business practice to show men how to determine whether they should follow him, but my borrowing the principle use is just a practical application of Scripture, not doctrinal)

Luk 14:28 For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it?

Luk 14:29Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock him,

Luk 14:30Saying, This man began to build, and was not able to finish.

So, the Lord has much to say about money and business, always principled to a T and not for the faint of heart. Learn from the Bible what living this life to the fullest is all about. To us believers, that’s a simple tenet. If you happen not to be a believer in the God of the Bible, the Lordship of Jesus Christ, and the free salvation by grace simply received on account of “how that Christ died for our sins,…was buried, and was raised again the third day…” because He was “delivered for our offenses and was raised again for our justification” that’s up to you. You’ll still never find better business acumen written anywhere. The world’s “wisdom” has been usurped from the Lord’s wisdom (see 1 Corinthians 1:18-21.)

Thanks for reading, The Elder

May, 18, 2022

!…And You Thought it Would Never Continue…!

It’s even hard for me to believe it has been so long since I’ve written a page or two for the Elder Blog, but here goes. 

First thought is about the new background photo: The picture is our home which was remodeled about two years ago, updated from about 40 years ago. It’s small, but seemingly exactly what a couple our age needs. We have NO GRASS, imagine not mowing grass. My wife has planted many shrubs and flowers, we have winding rock paths and and cool places to sit and enjoy the surroundings. But NO GRASS to mow. And we like it.

In a few days, I have the privilege of speaking to a number of up and coming business people concerning “what is an entrepreneur” (as if I could define that.) I shall do my best to talk about business and personal principles and not use myself as any sort of great example of success. Since I have very little of that kind of experience, that part should be easy. The hardest part will be to get across what I know to be true and not be hypocritical in so doing. Many of us who’ve reached “age plateaus” have much to say which should be interesting and even inspiring for younger folks to dare to be strong, dare to choose optimally, and even dare to take chances in their business careers. However, to teach the principles of good business sense is to teach “do this” and “don’t do that!”—amongst a myriad of other things. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Incredibly, some folks in the bible study world decide while looking at simple things the Scripture says, to make these truths to be difficult to understand. The Apostle Paul warned about the deceitfulness and subtlety of our common enemy causing folks to be unable to remember the “simplicity that is in Christ.” Somewhere, sometime, some people caused the rest of the peoples to believe college level educational processing was the only way to understand God (surely it is the seminarians.) What an atrocity that is toward God, His infinite grace, immeasurable patience, and unmitigated wisdom! Shall He not be able to cause His people to understand him? Our Holy Scriptures are written in a seventh grade grammatical manner! Here’s what that means: if one studies with a seventh grade grammatical understanding of our language, they will understand God’s will for their lives. If they do not yet have a seventh grade education, they can through common reasoning understand someone telling them about what the Scripture is teaching. In walks the necessity of being honest.

And in comes the rub. The “someones” who do the telling want to have an upper hand with those they teach. Hence, they teach with a flair of superiority which leaves the impression of them being something special and so the student should depend on them to explain God to them. That is a farce, ladies and gentlemen, an absolute farce! It is true the Lord has ordained “evangelists, pastors and teachers” to present His words in our dispensation. But, these are neither set apart as a superior, nor do they need to have been ordained by a man’s organization—they need, instead, to “Study to shew (themselves) approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.” And, being led by the Holy Spirit, they then relay what God has said to the minds in a simple, straight forward manner, not drawing away disciples after themselves. Ergo: you can eliminate thousands of denominational quirks and their theological errors by notgoing to one of their seminaries.

At last count, there were 189+ (about 5200 students) Denominational seminaries in the U.S. Only 1 or 2 teach the soon coming Savior on the basis of believing Scripture as it says it, where it says it, to whom it says it. These schools of “higher learning” ignore the “great plainness of speech” with which Paul, our Apostle taught the Corinthians, the Thessalonians, and the Philippians of how and to whom the Lord would soon be coming. (In case you are just now looking at this doctrine, it is commonly called the “rapture” or the “calling out” or being “caught up” of the church, the Body of Christ.) Most all of the seminaries teach a second coming of Christ in the general since and by their approach, they deny the prophecy of 7 years of Great Tribulation, and the following 1000 years of Christ reigning on the earth. But that simply denies too many Scriptures to the contrary. People say, “well, what do they do with that Scripture?” Mostly ignore it is what they do with it. Ignoring Scripture leads to “ig-norance,” does it not?

Alas, the result of this and many other mis-taught or un-taught Scriptures results in seminary graduates being taken into local assemblies all across the country to lead and mislead thousands every sermon-day. But, after all, they went to school, right? Seminaries are an abomination. They may well graduate sincere men and women, but that doesn’t mean these graduates understand God’s word or will. I have never yet met one of them who can discern 2 Tim.2:15 correctly, nor one who could explain 1 Tim.1:13-16 at all. 

So, I rant about them and it (the “higher” learning attempts of denominationalism.) Please don’t join a denomination, just study according to the way God’s word says you should study. I’m willing to help you start.

Thanks for reading, The Elder 

THE FLU!   WHO KNEW!   MUST BE NEW!  I’M TIRED, AREN’T YOU!

Here we go again! Now that we’re in 2022 and almost a month has gone by, it seems fitting that my wife and I would get the flu. Well, not fitting, but certainly not a surprise. We’ve seen the ravages of it and heard of much more for about 2 years now, and so it rages. One week ago, I started to feel feverish and weak as I came home from a long walk. In a short period of time, I knew it wasn’t a common cold, but it also didn’t develop in the same strain of symptoms as Covid-19, not even as Delta apparently did. But, it wasn’t like any other flu I had ever encountered, either. My only conclusion was Omicron, though I didn’t go get tested nor do I see any reason for that. I did what the natural protocols call for and some normal deterrent more concerning a bad cold. The second day, my wife started with the same symptoms. so, doing the same things as I was doing, we come now through the 6th and 5th days, respectively, and we’re over all the symptoms except for some fatigue which lingers. 

There! That’s enough about our ailing. But the flu which our so-called experts can’t seem to get rid of? the one which came by way of a bad China lab? and has now its own variants? That one? Let’s get to the bottom of this heap of government lies and covers-up, corruption and pandering, etc., etc., and get back to normal living with an occasional local flu epidemic and never do the stupid stuff (like lockdowns/shutdowns, and strange attempts at government mandates) ever again! 

Vote this year, folks! and vote correctly! Remember our country is based upon life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness! and not on the basis of what can a central government THEFT organization do for you! Find responsible people to vote for and support them in the primary so that your November choice will be more select than it is JUST the “lesser of two evils!”

There! That’s enough about politics. Having gone through the most recent iteration of flus, let’s now focus on how do we thank the Lord enough for our health and well-being. First and foremost we should daily thank the Lord God of all grace that He has shown us His Son, Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. And “how that Christ died for our sins, was buried, and was raised from the dead for our justification”—1 Cor.15:3,4 & Rom.4:25, If you can name Christ as your Savior, you and I are “in Christ” and eternally sealed to be with Him in whatever capacity He sees fit, for all eternity, world without end. This life and its problems pale in comparison to a never ending life with Christ, Amen?

So let’s thank Him with our five fold use of the time here together. First, in studying by rightly dividing the word of truth as instructed (2Tim.2:15) in order to never claim something the Lord gave to another time for another purpose, and thereby taking all He has for us which we learn by the same study. Second, let’s gather together with like believing folks in our own small groups or local bible classes, supporting those who take the time to show Scripture to prove all the above. Third, let’s gather in larger groups of bible believing folks whenever possible (as in conference settings) in order to be edified by different teachers and be prompted in more than one way of gathering into our hearts and minds the application of God’s word. Fourth, let’s learn to “therewith be content.” It is a very satisfying application of the life the Lord wants for us when we realize, we don’t need “more” from the Lord, just more time with the Lord. I’m satisfied with the Lord’s plan, even when I don’t clearly delineate it in my life. I know His word is true. Fifth, let’s learn to tell others we meet, anywhere our daily paths take us, telling others what we have in Christ and what is there for them as well. It always starts and ends with the gospel (see previous paragraph.)

Finally, for the remaining 347 days of this year, let’s be positive in our approach, more exuberant in our voice, and more free-thinking in our giving of ourselves for the sake of the Lord, for the sake of our neighbors, for our kinfolk, and for all the strangers who come our way! And may the God of peace be with you alway and always!

Thanks for reading, the Elder

Thanksgiving Evening, 2021—A Year to Be Thankful

Well, here we are. It’s been a while since I wrote this blog, so there must have been a reason, right? Yes, there were several. For many weeks, I just couldn’t put together any thoughts I believed would make a good blog read. Maybe because the previous several “chapters” were taxing to the memory, recounting the family history was more writer-energy draining than I would have previously imagined. Nevertheless, I’ll say on——it is now almost 3 months later.

We’re so very happy and blessed to have all 3 of our offspring to live here in the same community as us. When we began to visit this area of NE AL, only our oldest son lived here. But, it seemed the best place for us to move to, having the necessity to be in an area which would  cost less than where we had been; we saw most advantageously we could live here. 

Then, our daughter came to live here in a transitional state. But, when our granddaughter excelled in school here and wanted to attend Auburn, this along with a couple of other developments led her to believe this is best for her as well. 

About 15 months ago, you might remember I wrote about our second son’s traumatic loss of their home by fire. When that was all settled, and his body on the mend from other maladies, it seemed best for them to come this way also. 

So, as of July, 2021, all our family has successfully invaded Fort Payne, AL. Other relatives are welcome to come here, also, and with just a few of you we can complete our coup and run the whole dang town! 

Today’s Thanksgiving day gathering was marvelously furnished by the whole group. I, of course, did what I do best on big-meal-days, eat and say thank you to all the cooks! But along with that we had a lot of laughs, a lot of stories, and a lot of love for one another. Except for five grandchildren, the entire family was present (three were in Texas with their father, one there with his mother, and one was in Germany with his mother.) 

Saturday, Nov.27, 2021

With the news being fed to us reading more like terrorism than the actual shooting and looting, we now have another strain of flu about to attack us! I’m not surprised. Since I’m one of those who believes the first one was a manmade attack on liberty and civility, I believe the next strain to be promulgated as was the first. Please; I’m not saying they weren’t or aren’t real or really harmful. No, I’m saying we didn’t have to have endured them at all. Science, the pursuit of the truth, misses the mark because the dominant education process for more than one hundred years (closer to two hundred) is geared to believe that pursuing the truth is always worth the risks. Not so. We have a science category for everything based on a failure to believe the Holy Scriptures. Science thinks along a line that says our survival as a planet depends on them! Scripture would not ever lead anyone into this falsehood of hopelessness. Instead, it is very plain through rightly dividing the word of truth and, in fact the whole Bible, how Christ is the answer and His return to this earth for a 1000 years will show what we need and do not need — science such as it is today, will not fit into that picture perfect “day.”

But, we are faced with many dilemmas concerning whether or not to heed the promulgation and wring our hands in worry over what might kill us. It’s easy to get the words of the horrifically afeared which have the sound of doom and also to hear the indignant braggarts who want to say they’ll never cower under threats! …Here’s what I know and wholeheartedly believe about all this: “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and love, and of a sound mind.” Isn’t that simpler? Of course, it is. Listen folks, it doesn’t bother me if you and all your family get the vaccinations and the boosters,….and whatever the system puts forth for the oncoming new strain. I don’t have an opinion about you in this. I have an opinion about me, though. It has from the first been my thought that I’m not too likely to catch the flu. I haven’t had a recognizable flu symptom since 1981. But, I could get it. In which case one of three things is going to happen. 1.) It will kill me, or 2.)I will survive it, or 3.) I will not have had it after all. 98.4% NOT getting the flu is reason to not get too dragged down into hiding about it all, I think.

All of the above does not lessen the grief we’ve borne over the loss of loved ones in this past year. In fact, not just with covid, but with tragedy continuing through this year, we’ve had much to bear, yet the Lord has borne us up and we rejoice in His love and mercy. In January we lost my niece to the ravages of the disease, then my son-in-law’s mother passed away in February. My wife’s only remaining sibling passed away in March. Then, in July, a great nephew passed away of a heart condition made worse by covid. In October, a cousin of mine whom I knew more as a child than as an adult passed away, leaving only one person from her family still with us. Coupling those who’ve gone on before us with the news in January that one of my sons had an heart attack followed by a 5 bypass surgery, but thankfully is on an ever increasing recovery now. (Plus they have graced us with their move to our town, making all 3 of our children to be a mere stone’s throw away! We like that—first time in 40 years we’ve all lived in the same town.) Several weeks back my brother’s wife was hit by a reckless driver and is still suffering some lingering pains from her injuries. And recently, just a week ago, I had a mild heart attack and the good Doctor found a problem in previously place stents and fixed me up. I’m doing well, thank you.

All the above was just what has happened in my family this year. Even there, I might have missed someone. But, adding the trauma of this life in the people we know and love, several deaths or worrisome sicknesses, many more than normal and yes, it’s not been a year to brag about. Though, as always through it all, the Lord’s word testifies of His promise and life is worth the living! 

Thanks for reading, the Elder

From ‘20 to ‘20–more or less

Chapter 7

The 60s

So there we all were, married and away from home. In the early part of ‘62, I finally landed a job that seemed more permanent than any of 11 other short-lived jobs I had worked at in my first 19 months of marriage and when I went to work in Columbus, about 25 miles from Trafalgar, it seemed to E. H. and Lenora that the youngest was finally settled. A year later they sold the house we grew up in and bought about 20 acres just North of Lick Spring church and built a house. Jack could find water, you know, using a peach tree branch with a fork in it. He found water for their new house and several of us dug the well one 

Saturday (might have been on Memorial day.) We struck water right where Jack said we would and the house was finished, had a good supply of water and Lockie had his home in the country he wanted to get back to.

Throughout the 60s, he continued to pastor the Midway Separate Baptist church which was built by him using some of us boys and others in about 1953 or 54. It was built on property owned by the Central Indiana Association of Separate Baptist churches and when the tabernacle was built in ‘57, it began to be used by the association in addition to being pastored by Rev. E. H. Lockhart. Oh, by the way: back in ‘53 when the first small church building was built, we needed to dig a well for it. Jack found water at a good spot, we dug to the depth he said, but there was no water. 

But, since the association was going to be there in 2 days and the people needed water, Daddy bought a tank (2000 gal.) of potable water and dumped it in there for them to use. 2000 gallons…in 1953…sometime in the late ‘70s, about 25 years later that well ran dry. True story. I sware. True.

THE LOCKHART FAMILY SAGA TODAY—2021, A LONG ROAD

As I start this blog page today, I am sitting in our beautiful bungalow in the Northeast Alabama mountain town of Fort Payne, where all three of our children now live. A county seat of 15,000 people famous for three different historical events. It was a collection/starting point for the infamous Trail of Tears (of 1830-40s notoriety),a brief Coal Mining Boomtown, and a late 20th century phenomenal run as the Sock Capital of the World! None of these three events brings tourism to the area, but it is also the nearest town to a couple of other desired places: DeSoto State Park and its mountain top Little River DeSoto  Falls, as well as a national park preserve status Little River Canyon, with many canyon trails as well as its own Falls. Those two areas are near one another on the phenomenal top of Lookout Mountain (yes, the one in Chattanooga extends this far South and beyond),  along with a number of Summer Camps; boys, girls, and coeds, both Christian and secular abound all of which bring lots of folks to the top of the mountain who visit the eclectic little village of Mentone, historical in its own right.

My only remaining brother, Jack (80) lives about 70 miles West of us in a town about half as big as ours called Arab, AL. (That’s long A, short A in the American English, not as the folks in the Middle East are called—don’t mess that up!) Jack and Nancy have been there for almost 30 years now and have built themselves family and friends close, and as far as I know, they’re are very happy there. 

My only remaining sister, Margaret Lockhart Waltz (93) alone remains as the only one of Elvin and Lenora’s family of 9 to be around Trafalgar. She has a large family which surrounds her as well and who care for her needs.

Though all the rest of my siblings have departed this life, each of them have family remaining from Texas to Washington, D.C.; from Northern Indiana to Southern Florida—numbering up in the hundreds, I’m sure. We have not lost the memories of Elvin and Lenora who married almost 100 years ago, as I write. When I visit the Trafalgar, IN area, I still see people who remember and who loved my Mom and Dad. Still see several people I went to school with, some the whole 12 years there. These contacts I hold dear to my heart and will till I depart this life.

Thanks for reading the continuing saga of E.H. and Lenora Lockhart’s family.

The Elder

July 20, 2021

From ’20 to ’20—More of Less

Chapter 6  (More of the Fifties)

Early in the decade there was a time, now sort of undefinable by my memory, in which we seemed very poor in retrospect. We didn’t have much—I think a new pair of blue jeans to start school only went to which ever boy couldn’t wear a hand-me-down—that sort of thing. It was a time of living by faith for my parents and a time of trying not to be missing out on anything by Pete, Jack and me. But, along the way, both Ken and Don returned from their time in the military, Don being the most memorable, not to slight Ken. Ken came back to his job at Indiana Bell, even to defying the union strike, working during and after the strike was settled, he was well taken care of by the company. I always admired that.

Don had a problematic finish to his enlistment. He broke his right hand on the jaw of a Marine (so the story went) and was mustered out a little early, Korea being already under a truce. But, at home, Don went to work for a construction company, did pretty well and both he and Ken bought new cars. Ken a ’55 Ford convertible and a few months later, Don bought a ’57 Ford Fairlane. These both became crowded into our driveway along with E.H having a car and a pickup truck. 

Leon got married during this time frame, I think it was in ’57, on Good Friday. Soon after his marriage he was drafted and then sent to Germany where he was in April of 1958. Don was killed in a one-car accident around midnight on April 12th, I believe. Tragedy as never before experienced in the E.H. and Lenora Lockhart household had come. It was a horrible, horrible thing to go through, especially for Daddy and Mommy, but for sure for us all. Leon was hard to get hold of and subsequently could not come home for the funeral. The time of mourning was different for each one of us. (I have since come to believe that mourning is like a fingerprint or a DNA—we each have our own. Some mourn quickly and demonstrative and others are delayed for a time. Others still, mourn for long, long times.) Ours was personal, of course, but much harder for E.H. He was decimated.

As we’re looking into the 1950s with the family all growing up, the details of our getting through it need to be spread just a little more. This is a difficult decade for several reasons and I’ll try not to belabor too many things in it. Eight seemed to settle the size of the brood and although the oldest child (Roberta) was married in the middle of the ‘40s, and had the first two grandsons before the end of that decade, the rest of us still lived with “Mommy and Daddy.” But Ken joined the air force after having started a career with Indiana Bell and Don joined the Navy with his best friend—both due primarily to keep from getting drafted into the Army because of the “war” in Korea. Ken spent his Korean time on the island of Okinawa as an Air Force radio man and Don spent his on aircraft carriers as a “swabby” in the Navy. It seemed (from my perspective) that Ken had mostly a good experience-building stint, but Don hated the Navy, hated what he did, hated being away from home. Hard time for E.H. and Lenora, two boys in war. I remember very clearly the weeping as we took them back to get on their respective trains after they were home on furlough. 

Second daughter Margaret had dated fairly regularly and one of her “dates” was a nice guy we all liked name Bill Brown. We were surprised that one wasn’t the one. But then came Wendy (short for Wendell) Waltz. Yep, he was the one for her! A Waltz who waltzed into our lives! My brother Jack and I, about 9 and 11, liked Wendy because he would play tag or chase us with water balloons or some such thing. One evening we were running around in the yard chasing him and as he turned to look at us laughing loudly, taunting us, having great fun, he suddenly stopped held his chin up and was in great pain. He had thrown his jaw out of place. Margaret, Mommy and us had to take him to an Indianapolis hospital to get his jaw bone back in place. He had to be put to sleep, so on the way home, we had to stop to let him vomit alongside the road. That pretty much ended the playing. But, he was the one, so there was a big wedding at Lick Spring Separate Baptist Church! (First wedding I remember being at.)[[date]]

The first four grandchildren for E.H. And Lenora were all boys. Roberta and Bob, who had married about the time I was two had all boys. Marg and Wendy, a year or so after they were married were expecting and so it became a big deal that they should have a girl. Everybody wanted a little girl! And there she came. Cynthia (Cindy) Elaine Waltz was born and there was much ado about it! But then, Marg and Wendy followed that with 3 more boys. But, as the grandchild population grew, there were more girls, Ken and Shirley had two, then one boy, Leon had two—one with Donna, one with Bobbi. Then Pete and Judy had 3 boys, Jack and Betty Jo had one each and Barbara and I had two boys and one girl. Yet, Bob and Roberta had two more boys, Bob never got his little girl. 22 grandchildren in all for Lockie and Lenora! Looks like the Lockharts were going to be around for a few more generations. Back to the ‘50s.

In ‘54, as I mentioned earlier, we remodeled the old house and actually got indoor plumbing. What a great thing to not have to go to the outhouse in cold weather! And for me, being the youngest, not having to bath in old bath water—yuk! To this day, I will not even dry with the same towel twice! But the “new” home offered more, we had central heat for the first time. Hard to believe, the temperature always the same on cold Winter mornings, never had that before!

Leon left our house before he married, but Ken, Pete, Jack and I stayed living at home till we married. (Jack and his wife, Barbara and I were married in the first part of 1960.) All of us married by the start of the ‘60s. So, for E.H. And Lenora,  the 50s emptied out the house. None of us, however moved very far from home to start. so family get togethers were common. When Leon was drafted and then sent to Germany, Donna went with him, so they were a long way off and couldn’t get back on quick notice. When the tragedy struck, we missed them.

The tragedy struck one Tuesday night in April of 1958: Don had come home from work, and he and I went to the drugstore for a milkshake after supper, then played a game of pool at the pool hall. He gave me a ride back home and I asked him where he was going and could I go with him. He said, “No, I’m going to go see Bob (Haugh, close personal friend who was a bartender), so I’ll probably be late,” he said. I got out of the car and he said, “See ya later.” I was the last family member to see him alive. On his way home about midnight, Don fell asleep, left the highway and hit a tree, dying instantly, according to police reports. When a County Sheriff’s deputy and Pastor Frankie Collins, who’s church was about 1/4 mile from the accident, knocked on our door to tell us of the accident, our home changed forever. 

Sadness set in. The mournful feeling of such great loss, for E.H. And Lenora especially, but touching us all, was very hard to take. So many friends and neighbors who knew and loved Don, an excellent farmboy, a well respected baseball player (I once saw Don throw from a catcher’s position to 2nd base and pick off a runner—what an arm!) He loved high school sports still when he returned form the navy, never missing any baseball or basketball games if he could possibly get to them. He once left a basketball game with 25 seconds left and the Redbirds behind by about 7 points, I think. In those last seconds, magic occurred on the floor and we came back and won on a last second shot; Don never left early again!!

Don’s funeral was held at Lick Springs Separate Baptist church (where Margaret was married) and I never saw it as full as it was for his Eulogy. He was buried beside my grandparents there. But the sadness didn’t go away soon.

There was a certain quietness which prevailed in our house for weeks to come. E.H. never preached for several weeks. We wondered if he would ever again. Sometime, perhaps four or five weeks after the funeral, I had a horrible chest cold (which today would be deemed “walking pneumonia” I’m sure) and I had to get penicillin shots several days in a row, including a Sunday. Daddy drove me to get that shot on Sunday. On the way home, I asked him if he thought he would preach again. Without taking his eye off the road, and with tears running down his cheeks, he said, “I don’t know, son.” I said no more nor did he. As I recall, it was about four more weeks before he went back to preaching each Sunday. But he was never the same after that. Something in his preaching style was just altered by a permanent motivation from the sadness.

An interesting thing occurred for E.H. and Lenora soon after that. A thing I didn’t even think was possible: she got pregnant with what was termed a “change-of-life-pregnancy.” The baby (Bruce—the 7th boy) was born about 7 weeks early. His lungs had not formed correctly and he died in just a day, or so. Another great sadness into our lives. Then, seemingly in rapid order, Ken was married, Pete was married, then less than two years later, Jack was married and then I was married. And E. H. And Lenora were living alone for the first time since 1925.

Thanks for reading, the Elder

Chapter 5

[This chapter begins with another correction. Been talking with my brother Jack, who gave me some info about our maternal grandparents I’d like to share: first, I said my father had built them a house on the East end of our farm. NO, he provided them a plot of land, but “Dad” built the little house. In fact, he built  that one, then it burned and he built another. When we sold the farm and moved to town, he built the 3rd house exactly like the first two. I guess he only wanted it one way or he only knew one house plan. Anyway, just a minor correction.]

Somewhere in the ’52-’53 era, my father began to get more work as an independent contractor; built a concrete block house just South of Lick Spring Cemetery, a room addition here and there, new roofs, etc. He also worked for Camp Atterbury for a while during the Korean War (that was not a war.) The old wooden stoops on the WW2 buildings were rotting and had to be repaired (mostly replaced.) On one such repair, he was stung by several bumblebees to the point he was too sick to continue and he had to be home in bed. But, the next day, as he had scheduled it, he got up and drove about 50 miles of country road to preach a funeral. Sickness never caused him to miss an appointment to preach in all his years of preaching. He told us that often. I always enjoyed hearing him say it, sort of like thinking I would be that healthy always, I guess.

In 1954, the old house had just about seen its day, at least in the way it looked. So, daddy designed and began to build a “new” version of our house. The way it had been built was very inefficient for heating in Winter and for staying cool in Summer. It had all those gables, therefore all those offsets creating real problems moving warmed air to any room other than a living room which was not at the very front or a kitchen which was more isolated at the rear. So, the plan was to put in a central heat system and re-shape the rooms to be ranch house designed: living, dining, kitchen on one end; bedrooms and hallway to them on the other. The bathroom, more or less, in the center of the house.

Some things the old design had done was have high ceilings, yet with the high pitched roof, it had enormous attic (wasted) space. The new design meant adding to a squaring up of the exterior style, then adding a new low pitch (3/12, I think) roof. This was done inside the old spacious attic mostly! One day the house looked like its old self, then with almost all of the new roof built inside the attic, in one day we tore off the old high roof and decked the new roof for a completely different new style house! It was the talk of the town! (Of course, I was only 12, wasn’t much help, and had stepped on a nail during this great feat and mostly just watched.)

Winters were often rough and bitter during those times before we remodeled that old house, but often us boys would get inventive about how to “play” basketball inside. We had transoms over the doors, both exterior and interior doors. So, we invented how to take a “ball” of socks and pretend dribble the ball (rhythmic up and down hand movement while holding the ball of socks), running around the defensive man and shooting the socks into the transom panel! 2 Points! I don’t remember how often we did that, but I remember some heated moments—“that shot didn’t go in!” “yes it did!” “no, it didn’t!” I suppose, since I was the youngest, I always must have lost those arguments. 

But, if the weather was one of two different ways, we played basketball outside: if the ground was frozen, we would play till either we got too cold or the ball we had went flat (for quite a while we had an old ball that leaked slowly and we would put it close to the stove and the heat would swell it to capacity—for a few minutes.) Sometimes, though, Winter would have mild days and we could play on the outside court at the school, unless it was muddy. Mm,..sometimes we played in the mud. We liked basketball. Somewhere in those years, we had a Christmas day above 50 degrees! We played ball till dark! Outside, on Christmas!

My father never played basketball as a youngster, but he used to play baseball. Got pretty good, he said. He had a good throwing arm till he was about 60. In fact, I believe he was 61 when we had an amateur league team there in Trafalgar with, I believe 4 Lockharts listed on the roster. On July 4th, 1962, we were scheduled to play a game in Whiteland and my father came to watch. We only had 7 players and the league rules said to start you had to field at least 8 players. We only had 2 Lockharts in the 7, so we just put Daddy in right field as a Lockhart roster player and got the game started. He played two innings, I think, before other players showed up. I don’t think he had to field any hit balls, but he batted! Ground out, but he did at 61, hit the ball.

From 1939 to 1960, all eight of E.H. and Lenora’s children went to Trafalgar High School and all graduated. My oldest sister, Roberta graduated in ’43 and I, as the 8th, graduated in 1960. Quite a record. From 1946 to ’60, there was a Lockhart boy on the varsity basketball team all but two years. In ’49, there were 3; in ’50 & ’51 and in ’57 there were two. All the boys earned 3 years of varsity letters except me, I earned two. We all played baseball all four years. The oldest 3 played softball in the Fall, baseball in the Spring. The youngest 3, we played baseball in both the Fall and the Spring.

(Paralleling us, almost perfectly, was the 6 Dehart boys—only they went from ’44 to ’61. That’s not about the Lockhart family, but it is an interesting side note. In both families, when someone would see us in another part of the county, they might would ask, “are you a Dehart or a Lockhart?”)

The next chapter might be harder to write. Tragedy came our way and taught us many things, both about ourselves, our parents, and our community.

To be continued

Thanks for reading, the Elder

FROM ’20 to ’20, MORE OR LESS

chapter 4

A correction from the previous chapter: My father did buy new cars after that. Seems to me he bought a new ’51, ’53, and ’55 Nash, the last being an Ambassador. Those were good cars. Innovative. Never got the credit they deserved for new things: A transmission designed to save gas with an aspect called “free wheeling.” Also, perhaps the first to have an automatic transmission.   With an overdrive gear! Very difficult to turn over (I guess a low center of gravity?) The first car to have air conditioning as standard equipment. Seats which made into full beds. Starter on the gearshift handle…etc., etc., etc. Nash, an American marvel!

Just wanted to clear up that error.

When we left the farm (which my father sold in order to do some other business) we moved into an old house in Trafalgar, right on the main street, which I found out years later was called Pearl St. Our house had four gables, I think. In 1954, we remodeled it to be a ranch-style look. Inside it was much the same, but had ranch effect design (central hallway between bedrooms, etc.) That was also the year we got indoor plumbing. Finally. Everything changed then, thank goodness.

But, when we first moved, my father built a commercial building in town but on SR135 and a house next door to it. The house was for my oldest sister, Roberta and her husband, Bob, who had served in WW2. The commercial building was masonry with a quonset style roof with arched trusses made of wood; 2 inch materials lashed together in an arch fashion to create the quonset look. The building is still there today with a more common pitched roof.

“Lockie” had a blacksmith shop sort of in the middle of the garage area, then there were two garage openings on the North end, with a filling station on the South end—Texaco, it was. I remember spending several days with him in the blacksmith area, mostly a nuisance to him, I’m sure. He did a lot of plow point sharpening. You didn’t grind those down to sharpen; you heated them and beat them back into shape on an anvil while they were red hot. He was a strong man in those days, that stuff was hard work. He also grind-sharpened mowing scythes, the kind that fit into tractor mounted PTO mowers for cutting hay. That also took a lot of strength. They were several feet long, a system of 3 inch triangle blades which meant you sharpened two edges while holding the whole length in the air. These triangles were mounted on a bar by rivets, as I recall, which would get loose or break if the farmer ran into a rock or something. He fixed those, too. Daddy kept some scrap iron in a wooden box for making a tool or attachment from scratch. I’ve seen him make hitches, replacement parts hard to find for old equipment, etc. My early adulthood carried these memories into my belief mankind can do most anything he sets his mind to do. I thank my father for that seated principle in my life. 

The blacksmithing became less each year as new farming innovations replaced the need for as much repair work. Not sure, but I think maybe 3 seasons was all he did as a blacksmith. The building stayed being a garage and filling station until the mid ‘60s. I spent several hours a week in the filling station/restaurant as a teenager. Daddy and Mommy went on to work at Camp Atterbury after the blacksmith days. Daddy also started doing contract work, building and remodeling which he did until he “retired” at 81.

My greatest memories of the ‘50s, living in Trafalgar run from starting my schooling (actually starting in the Fall of ‘48) and continuing through the Spring of ‘60–12 years in the same building with everyone else in grades 1 through 12—no kindergarten in Trafalgar in those days. My folks were not personally involved in the goings on at the school very much. Once, my father went and told school board people NOT to take government subsidies, it would only lead to more and more government interference. They told him it was out of their hands already. I’m pretty sure he never went back to them about anything. 

During all the years I was in school, my father was also a pastor and/or evangelist in small churches in Indiana, Illinois, Kentucky and a few times in North Carolina. Pastoring was mostly limited to central Indiana, several different churches with classical names: Shiloh, Friendship, Pleasant Valley, Mt. Zion, Bethel, and a few others. He actually started preaching and pastoring a year or so before I was born. He continued to preach till about age 82-83, but slowed considerably after late 70s. The last 30 years at a church which also served as the denominational headquarters in a little town called Fruitdale or Midway, as was the name of the church.

For about 3 years, in the early 50s, he had a tent and did “tent revivals” in small towns which didn’t have a church of the denomination he was. He fit their definition of a “home missionary” —not being sent overseas somewhere. To me, it was always fun to put up the tent and take it down. It was a most of the day job setting it all up: borrow a vacant lot next to someone willing to share electricity, then the old and totally physical way of rolling out the tent sections, lacing them together, get the center pole (it was a 40’ X 40’ tent with one center pole) set to be raised, the corner poles placed, then while several men held it up, the stay poles and staked tie ropes all up into place. Then the electric lines were hung, lights all working, sawdust or woodchips placed as an aisle, then the knockdown pews all set up and the pulpit assembled,  piano carried in and placed just so! Phew!!! A lot of fun! Taking it all down was hard work, but it didn’t take all day.

Through all that, my father and mother never appeared to be angry or upset with one another. Maybe they were, but it never showed, at least not to me. One day I remember well, I think I was about 9 or 10: He was leaving to go to work and my mother said, “You got any grocery money?” He said he didn’t. She said, “How am I supposed to feed these boys? what are you gonna do?” He said, “I’ll pray about it.” And walked out. An hour or so later, a man pulled up at our house and told her he had a half a hog, already dressed in pork chops, bacon and ham for us. His prayer worked pretty good, don’t you think? She traded some neighbors for some other essentials and we never went hungry. We had some very lean years during that era. 

[this morning the song in my head (SIMH) was also a favorite of my father’s: IN THE CROSS:

Jesus, keep me near the cross,

There’s a precious fountain, free to all

A healing stream, flows from Calvary’s mountain.

IN THE CROSS, IN THE CROSS be my glory ever

Till my raptured soul shall find

Rest, beyond the river.

Written by the famous hymn writer Fanny Crosby—1869]

To be continued

Thanks for reading, the Elder