Nov. 21, 2021, column in the Amarillo Globe-News:
People in our pasts serve as 'stone' markers in our journeys
Two men I knew long ago passed
away this year, and I found out about both on Facebook.
Both were people I’m glad I
encountered in the 1980s, and both had been mostly off my radar for the past
three decades.
I liked both a lot, and it would
have been nice if I had contacted them occasionally through the years. But this
isn’t a plea for getting in touch with friends or loved ones before it’s too
late. I fully agree with that, and no one has expressed it better than Lance
Lahnert, the former sports editor whose column about his late father ran in
this newspaper annually for years.
Making sure family and close
friends know you love them is vital. And for me, keeping the ties to my McLean schoolmates
and hometown friends is a given, made easier by an all-school reunion every two
years.
But what about people who were
significant to you for a short time before you moved away? The deaths of Darrel
and Ed reminded me that we should at least stop to be grateful for those we knew
in the past.
The book of Joshua in the Old
Testament tells us that after the Israelites had crossed the Jordan River as
God stopped its flow, the Lord told their leader, Joshua, to have men take 12
stones from the river to stack in the Promised Land as a memorial of the event.
The primary purpose was for
future generations to know about the power and love of God. It also was a
reminder that the story of the Jordan crossing should be passed on.
I see people in our pasts as
markers in our journeys. Even if we don’t stay in touch, each time we think
about them and the impact they had on us can be a “stone” that reminds us of
good times and good people.
EDWIN HENRY
Edwin Henry hired me as sports
editor of a suburban newspaper in the Houston area around 1980. He was a
helpful boss, having covered sports around the city for years. He gently tutored
me in writing about baseball, which I liked but didn’t quite understand as well
as other sports.
He quickly became a friend, too,
helping me move into my apartment and giving me advice on living single in a
big city. I learned of his love of bass fishing and bowling and met some of his
family and friends.
George Foreman, who was between
his boxing heyday and his later comeback – and before the George Foreman Grill
– lived in a Houston suburb. Ed had connections and easily could have
interviewed the sports legend by himself. But he invited me to go with him, and
we spent an hour as Foreman sat on his couch next to bench press equipment in
his living room. Ed wrote a feature on his boxing career, and I wrote one on
his Christian faith.
Ed was African-American, and he
sometimes tactfully filled me in on cultural differences that he figured I
wouldn’t know about as a white guy who grew up on a ranch in West Texas.
In a couple of years I moved
back closer to family, but Ed still was concerned about my future. When he and
his wife visited Amarillo for a bowling tournament, my parents and I met them
for supper. After that, though, we let the 600 miles between us take its toll. I’m
not sure why I decided to Google him the other day and saw that he had died
this year.
DARREL THOMAS
Darrel Thomas was my colleague
for seven years at Texas Tech. He was the photography adviser for Tech Student
Publications, and I was the editorial adviser. We guided student staff members
of the university’s newspaper and yearbook.
Darrel was an instructor and friend
to the hundreds of student photographers who passed through his office, studio
and darkroom in the basement of the journalism building. He stayed in contact
with many of them, and the scattered photogs got together with him often.
Darrel was a Tech student and
then a student publications/media professional for 44 years. He’s one of a few
people who deserves the title, “Mr. Texas Tech,” or at least “Mr. Red Raider
Photographer.” As fellow advisers, we sometimes disagreed – Darrel defending
his photo students and me supporting the writers and editors. He was demanding about
photo excellence but a fun friend to students and colleagues. He liked rock
music and a good get-together.
Kathy
and I did get Darrel to shoot our wedding photos in 1991. I may have seen him
once after that.
He
retired, but his camera was as active as ever. My recent interaction with him usually
was saying “Nice photo!” about one of his online bird, cloud or moon pictures,
to which he always, replied, “Thanks, Mike.”
Darrel died Oct. 23, and his
memorial service took place Nov. 9 in the Kent R. Hance Chapel on the Tech
campus.
Darrel and Ed left legacies with
those who came their way. Last week, I saw an Associated Press photo credit
naming one of Darrel’s students who became a veteran NFL photographer. On
social media, Ed’s son said he’s honored to see stories about his father, and
that “It helps keep his memory
alive.”
Maybe it isn’t realistic for us
to stay close to all the people like Ed and Darrel who have touched our lives.
But we can think about them now and then – a mental “stone” – and thank God
that we knew them.
Mike
Haynes taught journalism at Amarillo College from
1991 to 2016 and has written for the Faith section since 1997. He can be
reached at haynescolumn@gmail.com.
Go to www.haynescolumn.blogspot.com for other recent columns.
