Coming to the Big City!

Back in 1969 when I was offered a job at the big company I was asked to come to the big city to seal the deal. The dress code in the public affairs office at Fort Polk was what they would call today, business casual. I knew I needed to make a good impression over at the big company so I tried to determine what kind of attire to wear. We had married in 1964 and my 38 short suit bought new for the wedding which had to be taken in before I could wear it, now needed to be taken out. Couldn’t wear that, so I turned to my brother-in-law Kenneth and asked if he had anything I could borrow.

Kenneth was perhaps one of the most remarkable people ever to inhabit this planet. He became part of our family in the early 1960’s when he married my sister. He was nearly seven years older than her. Kenneth’s personality was that of a “friend” to almost anyone he ever met. This was before he came to know Christ and sad to say he put most so-called believers to shame with his kind heart and willing hand. When he got saved, he got the whole enchilada. A wonderful old preacher friend of mine from years gone by used to say that some people seem to get saved better than others. No, he wasn’t talking about a different kind of salvation, he was commenting on how it impacts a person’s life.

Kenneth was radically saved and he thought that everyone who was saved should be really happy about it. The folks in our little country Church didn’t know how to take someone so excited, happy, and enthusiastic for the Lord. Most of our members were the grin and bear it, don’t rock the boat, kind of folks that mostly saw life as something to endure. Whatever God gave to Kenneth, this is not what he thought being a born again believer was all about. What an example and what a man! If my longtime neighbor Ellis’ picture is in the dictionary by the word neighbor, then look up “sold out to Jesus” and you will find Kenneth’s picture.

He and I hunted together, fished together, shared fellowship together, and enjoyed granny Mac’s and my mom’s cooking nearly every Sunday. But, alas, we are not promised tomorrow in this life and in October of 1975 Kenneth was tragically killed in a hunting accident. Our family has more than it’s share of “whys?” as part of our heritage, but I can’t think of any greater than our loss of this good and faithful man.

Kenneth did have a fairly new shark skin material suit and I borrowed it and a shirt and a tie. I did have my own underwear and socks and maybe my own shoes but I may have borrowed a better pair from him. I made the 200 mile drive to the big city and after some confusion about leaving my keys so the parking attendant could move my car as needed, I finally made my way to the address of the building where the big company resided. I was quite a sight walking down the street of the big city. My gold brown shark skin suit was shimmering in the sunlight and I was feeling good about my prospects.

When I arrived at the building I was greeted by this very tall gentleman with a huge handle bar moustache. He signed me in and told me that I needed to go to the 8th floor. I was very early, as is my normal approach, so I entered the elevator and stood there for a moment to compose myself and collect my thoughts. My silence was interrupted by the huge man as he leaned into the elevator and said this to me, “Sonny, you will have to push the button if you want to go up to the 8th floor”.

I knew that. Surely I didn’t look that much of a hick, or did I? More later……………..