The Last Man Standing

I had a good day Friday.  I attended the memorial service for friend Fred Williams, a pillar of the community and the church, who was born in 1915, 100 years ago.  The service was conducted by my wonderful pastor, Rev. Alan Sherouse, a 30-something, born in the 1980s.  Alan nailed it, knocked it out of the park. It was a wonderful worship service, a celebration of a fascinating 20th century entrepreneurial journey underpinned by devote Christian faith. It was topped off for me by having lunch with another wonderful friend who was born in 1925, 90 years ago (I had taken him to the service).

The best part of the day was seeing my Uncle Warren Bass, Fred's best friend, born in 1921, 94 years ago.  In my family (among his generation), and among most of his friends, Warren is the last man standing.  He has been a rock of the family. Such an example. My day caused for such reflection, such introspection, such feelings of blessing and gratitude.

These guys grew up in difficult times, the Great Depression, World War Two, the beginnings of America's ascension.  They did so well. They did what they had to do. To be around them, to listen to them, to observe their humility, is a such blessing.  Due to 'father time', such experiences will be, at this point, short-lived. They are leaving us, literally, daily.

The friend I had lunch with, Ray Anderson, is a 1949 Georgia Tech graduate who grew up on a 25,000 acre plantation outside of Memphis.  He married a New Orleans girl 65 years ago.  He is a devote Christian, his son a pastor in Macon, he's an avid Braves and Georgia Tech fan, an industrial engineer by trade, overseer of the Triad Montenyard community for 40 years, an overall wonderful, interesting guy.

But then, there is Uncle Warren.  The last man standing.  In my family, there was, to say the least,  maverick, interesting characters in that generation, all unique, leaving mark and impression on the world and on all of us. 

But then, Warren, the last man standing. Thankfully, I'll see him and I'll visit with him Sunday, at the First Baptist Church of Greensboro.

If you have occasion to be around any pre-1925 born soul in the coming weeks, listen, observe, be grateful.  It'll make your day.

Yeap, I had a good day.