Brother Roy has been a special part of my life for as long as I can remember. He and his dear wife, Sister Dot, who departed this life some time ago, were members of the church where my earliest memories lie. That was a special church in so many ways. Many of my family members were baptized there. Many of the same people were married there. I attended there and wedged myself between my dear grandparents for the better part of 10 years, until we moved away. I still look to the right and see Brother Roy and Sister Dot sitting across the way in my mind's eye. Brother Roy served as a beloved elder there, and he is one of the finest in that role that I have ever known.
When my parents decided to move nearer to Nashville for my father's Highway Patrol job, I was devastated to leave that wonderful assembly, with some of the people who shaped my spiritual self. The Bible class teachers there were so devoted, and they assisted my parents in teaching me the ways of God, His precepts and laws and His love! People like Brother Roy and Sister Dot made huge impressions on my little psyche that have stayed with me to this day. So you can imagine how delighted I was when I found out that Brother Roy and Sister Dot were going to be moving, too, and living very close to us in the new place.
Brother Roy and Sister Dot had two precious daughters, too, and they always doted on us a lot when we were children. In time, they married and moved away, and so did the children of our family. Through the years, however, we have managed to have some contact, occasionally running into each other at church services somewhere.
Now, Sister Dot is gone to heaven, and Brother Roy has moved into a condo development which has been overtaken by Christians so that they can have a little piece of heaven in their retirement community in Florida. My dear Uncle Fred and Aunt Fran live around the block from Brother Roy. It is such a small world.
Brother Roy has become my newest reader! Welcome, Brother Roy! As my 3rd reader, he probably ought to get some prize or something. I will have to think of something good to send him! (Need a Rottweiler, Brother Roy? Or maybe a two-for-one special with a stupid Retriever?) I have told Brother Roy that I shall try to be more faithful about writing, if he is going to grace my "blob" with his presence. That is what he calls weblogs, and he reads them on his "contraption." He is learning to access links via email now without the assistance of his lovely daughter Claudia. Good going, Brother Roy.
Brother Roy sent me a story about my grandfather that I should like to share with my other two readers in closing. You will remember that my grandfather is the reason behind the naming of this blog. (If you don't recall, you can follow the links below and read the post, "Why Grit Gravy?") My grandfather was a character. He is worthy of a book, for sure, and I may just find my pen for the first time in such a biography. At any rate, I loved this story, and I shall add it just as he told it. My grandfather is Mr. R.R. (Railroad) Pollock (pronounced Paahh-luck, for those who don't know. He was in the tire business for over 60 years, patenting several tire machines.) Here's the story:
Yes, your grandparents were unusual hard working individuals who were successful in so many ways. RR's inventions were just amazing!! I'll never forget an incident that showed his remarkable ability. I had stopped by his tire shop on a Saturday to get a trailer wheel balanced. He was there that day by himself and several customers waiting in line (and all in a hurry of course).. He was running around like a whirlwind trying to accommodate them all. Leo Bunt from Ethridge drove up about that time with a huge tractor tire that needed fixing in a hurry so he could finish plowing or harvesting or whatever and Saturday was his only day off to do it. RR said he didn't see how he could he could possibly get to him but finally said if Leo would remove the tire from the rim, he'd do his best to work it in. So I volunteered to help him. We got this big wheel on the ground and RR tossed us a wedge and sledge hammer to break the tire loose from the rim. I held the wedge in place and Leo swung the sledge with all his might time after time but the tire didn't budge. So I tried the hammer while Leo held the wedge until we were both worn out. RR passed by about that time and saw the mess we were making of it. He pushed us aside, picked up the wedge in one hand and the heavy sledge with the other and whammed it one time and that tire popped right off while Leo and I hung our heads in shame.
Rufus Clifford said he would never stop shaking the hand of anyone who could stop the baptistery from leaking. They had tried painting it, then lined it with galvanized tin which promptly rusted through at the joints, then lined it with copper which turned green and leaked at the joints and didn't have a descent way to heat it. RR had seen someone put a new product (fiberglas) on a boat so he took all that stuff out lined that baptistery with it and it didn't leak one drop for 50 years when they tore the building down. He also hooked up an electric water heater in the room just below and piped it up into the baptistery and it kept warm water in it continually until the last day. So much for that.
Thanks for sharing those memories, Brother Roy. And thanks for always being one of those rare heroes of the real world that "kids" of 44 like me can look up to.
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