Category: Personal stories

Stand In The Corner With Your Snoot Stuck Out

Expressing anger or frustration to dad with negative and harsh words was pretty much a conversational non starter with him. He exercised stringent self control and expected me to follow suit. It was not that he wanted me to deny my thoughts and feelings but rather that he wanted me to find the self control to choose words wisely and carefully, especially when agitated. He did not believe in an entitlement to inflict your feelings on others.

When I came to him and vented my anger and frustration he would half sing, half chant the ditty below.

What are you gonna do when the meat runs out? Go stand in the corner with your snoot stuck out!

He had picked that up as a child from either a grandparent or a great grandparent. To him it meant that if you were bent out of shape about something (like the meat running out, which happened a lot during the depression he lived through growing up) then rather than inflict your attitude on others, you should go pout in a corner until you worked through it.

His method of teaching the discipline of managing harsh feelings is probably considered unhealthy today. But I contend that the world in general, and the internet in particular, would be better places if we all exercised more self control.

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Broken Dolls

My own ignorance landed heavily on me on September 10. When the news bulletin flashed on my phone I found myself asking “who is Charlie Kirk?” I knew literally nothing about the man and his mission. I take no pride in my lack of knowledge. I have done a root cause analysis on why I was so uninformed and am now implementing corrective action to address it.

I immediately began trying to fill the information void. I began watching video clips, reading transcripts and watching news specifically about him. There is so much available information that I can never hope to assimilate it all.

Charlie’s message was reaching and connecting with thousands of young people and it resonated beyond college campuses. His ideology and mine do not align but I acknowledge the sanctity of his life and respect for his passion. I respect him even though I do not agree with him on many topics.

I saw a quote regarding empathy and Charlie’s thoughts on the subject. The posts I viewed did not include the complete quote so I dug deeper to get the entire quote and the context. My initial reaction was that he was wrong and I could prove it. But I could not prove him wrong.

I have not been persuaded to view empathy the same way as Charlie but I can better understand his perspective. The specific word empathy is not in the Bible. That does not mean the concept is not there, just that the word is not.

I dug deeper. The word “empathy” did not come into English vocabulary until 1909. It was a translation of the German psychological term Einfühlung that means “in-feeling” or “feeling into.” Empathy could accurately be understood as being made up in 1909 to describe human to human connection in a way that had not been specifically expressed before.

I am not persuaded to dismiss the term as meaningless or irrelevant. Human to human connections are essential, even critical, for a society and culture to thrive in peace and harmony. When we dismiss or diminish the sanctity of a person’s life because of their political views, religious beliefs or any other value humans hold dear then we dismiss or diminish the sanctity of our own lives.

Jesus demonstrated the deepest, most loving connections with everyone he encountered. All of our lives are sacred to him. He experienced shared joy with people as well as shared sorrow and despair. Why else would Immanuel, God with us, cry with Mary and Martha at Lazarus’s tomb when he knew he was about to raise Lazarus from death? The tears were not for Lazarus. They were for Mary and Martha so they did not have to experience sorrow and grief alone.

I am reminded of a story I heard a long time ago. A policeman was out walking his beat. He came upon two young girls sitting on a side walk. There was a broken doll between them and they were both sobbing. As he approached, one of the girls looked up and made eye contact with him. He asked her “what is going on here?” The girl replied “my friend broke her favorite doll and she is heart broken.” The officer said “well now I understand why she is crying but why are you crying?” She responded “I love her and right now the only thing I can do to comfort her is to cry with her.”

May we all have deeper connections with our fellow human beings to laugh with them in joy and cry with them in pain, sorrow and despair.

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Gusto Singing!

Behavioral traits can be genetically transferred from generation to generation just as physical traits are transferred. That is the conclusion I have come to in this season of my life. How else can I explain how much more like my mom and dad I become with each passing year. When I examine my traits at sixty four, I can trace many of them back to my parents.

My dad sang Christmas carols year round. Everywhere except around other people. He loved to sing but he would not sing in public. He stopped singing in public the day a teacher stopped a song and singled him out for criticism because he was singing louder than anyone else. On pitch and in rhythm and with gusto.

Whenever I am in public and singing is involved, if my daughter is with me, she will implore me not to sing with gusto. She has experienced the “singing loud for all to hear” paternal genetic trait up close and it makes her cringe. An irony is that my son-in-law, Tim, who shares our last name but as far as we can determine is not from the same family tree, shares the trait!

Make a positive difference in someone’s life. Remember to be kind, gentle and compassionate with your words. It matters.

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Spread a Few Bread Crumbs, Drop a Few Beans

Dad could get along with anybody. People wanted to be around him. He was charming and he was witty. He had verve.

He worked his entire career, about thirty six years, at Great Lakes Carbon. If you grew up in Morganton, especially in the sixties and seventies, you were probably aware of GLC.

Dad’s engineering skills and people skills made him a candidate for promotions. He received several offers in the sixties and seventies but he declined. Promotion meant moving to Niagara Falls, NY or somewhere in Missouri or Texas. After serving in the Army and spending two years in South Korea he was not interested in moving, even if it meant sacrificing promotions.

So the promotions were offered to some of his co-workers and some of them accepted. A few of his co-workers that accepted promotions moved quickly up the ranks. One of his promoted friends reached a Vice President level in just a few years after leaving GLC in Morganton.

Dad always took full responsibility for the consequences of his decision. He taught me that you should embrace the bad consequences and good consequences with equal grace. So when his friend became a VP dad was genuinely happy for him. A few of his co-workers did not share that happiness.

Each year the upper management team from the corporate office would travel en masse to each GLC facility to meet with local management team. The visit always culminated in very nice dinner at a restaurant in Morganton or Hickory. His friend, the VP, became the target of annual ridicule from some of the managers of the Morganton plant after the dinner.

They would ask Dad if he noticed how messy the VP was when he ate. They lambasted the VP because some of his food would end up on the table. They asked dad “doesn’t it bother you that he makes such a mess when he eats?” Dad would respond “no, I just let some bread crumbs and a few beans fall off my plate and then enjoyed a conversation with my friend.”

Tolerance is disappearing world wide. Make a positive difference today, or tomorrow or next week. Extend tolerance to someone even if you do not think they deserve it. It will cost you nothing.

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There Ought to be a Hall of Fame for Mammas

Caution: This story includes reference to sexual assault.

My grandmother was a folk healer. That term is not used much these days. A generally accepted definition of a folk healer is an unlicensed person in the community who practices the art of healing using traditional methods to alleviate pain and spiritual suffering. Her name was Pearl Harklerode. But everyone in the community called her Mammaw Doc, which was short for Mammaw Doctor.

When my mother was around ten years old, a neighbor called Mammaw Doc and said he was suffering a health problem and needed help getting groceries from the store. Being the caretaker of the community, Mammaw Doc sent my mom and one of her brothers to the neighbors house to go to the store for him.

When my mom and uncle arrived at the neighbors house, the neighbor gave cash to my uncle and sent him to the store alone. That left mom alone and vulnerable. While my uncle was gone the man sexually assaulted her. Then threatened to harm her and my uncle if she told anyone. She did not.

She had to deal with that trauma alone as a child. Can you imagine her pain and suffering?

Years later, mom had put herself through school and become a Registered Nurse. She was working at Grace Hospital. One day the neighbor, the man who assaulted her, was admitted to the hospital with a terminal illness. Mom was assigned to be his nurse. Can you imagine her pain and suffering?

Mom gave him kind and compassionate care even though she did not feel like he deserved it. She believed that choosing mercy was spiritually and morally right no matter how much pain and suffering she was experiencing.

Mom confided this to me about thirty years ago. I share it with you now because men in positions of power and influence continue to be excused for this evil behavior and it infuriates me.

Boy or girl, man or woman, if you are the victim of sexual violence I want you know know you are precious and dear. I pray that mercy, kindness and compassion find you and surround you. You are loved.

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Words Matter – Less Can Be More

My father was a wise man.  Ask anyone who knew him.  When he spoke, his words warranted your attention. A person with an open heart and mind could learn wisdom from him if there was a willingness to listen to, reflect upon and apply his message.

Some of his wisdom carried a steely sternness. I share one of his pearls of wisdom with you.

He was convinced that it was unnecessary to point out a persons lack of knowledge.  He used a stronger term than lack of knowledge.  He believed that a persons words and behaviors would reveal their lack of knowledge.  He encouraged me to speak less so I do not reveal my own ignorance. In that regard, and many others, I am still a work in progress.

I am grateful for a wise father who tried to impart wisdom to me.  Dad – you are loved, missed and always with me.  Thank you.

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Mind Then Heart or Heart Then Mind?

People have accepted Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior because of the many debates Charlie Kirk engaged in.  The breadth and depth of his Bible knowledge was amazing and his ability to put forth rational and logical arguments based on his knowledge persuaded many minds.

My struggle is that in reading the Bible, I have not found a situation in scripture where Jesus initiated a debate to present his message of redemption and salvation. I find many situations where Jesus engaged in debate only as a response to the criticisms and attacks he faced from religious leaders because of the message he was presenting.

Jesus’s message resonated with and touched hearts as well as minds.  As a teenager, I felt out of place at church because all my friends had already walked the aisle, made a profession of faith, and been baptized—most of them as children.  But I was, and still am, a scientist. I put my trust in the ideas and concepts that can be empirically observed, measured and verified. But the afterlife, the Trinity and Heaven cannot be observed, measured or verified.

There is a chasm between belief and faith. But no matter how long, how deep or how wide the chasm is The Cross can bridge it.

Definition of belief: An acceptance that something is true or exists, based on evidence, reasoning, or conviction. 

Definition of faith: Strong trust or confidence in someone or something unseen, without requiring proof.

If the afterlife, the Trinity and Heaven could be absolutely proven then faith would have no eternal value.  I was reluctant to believe because nothing could be proven to my mind regarding the spiritual realm. And my mind overruled my heart because that is how a scientist behaved in my thinking.

But after completing a Bible study in Sunday School where we did a side-by-side reading and comparison of scripture with The Hobbit my heart was affected in a way that opened my heart to faith.   I realized that my heart had faith even though my mind had not yet embraced belief.

Since then I have gained trust in Jesus and confidence in scripture. The growth of belief from faith is a work of the heart and is an inner transformation.  And that transformation is not linear or predictable.  It has ups and downs and ebbs and flows.  I take comfort in knowing this is part of the Christian journey.

There is a story in Mark about a father who brings his son to Jesus for healing. Jesus declared that if the father can believe it is possible for the son to be healed then he will be healed.  The father makes a statement that resonates with me.

Mark 9:23-25

New King James Version

23 Jesus said to him, “If[a] you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes.”

24 Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”

Fifty years after being saved there are still episodes in my life that challenge my belief.  It is my trust in Jesus and confidence in scripture that sustains me in those difficult times. And it sustains me now as I lament the senseless death of Charlie Kirk.  He is a child of God, brother in Christ and made in the image of the God he loved and served.  He is now in the loving arms of his Heavenly Father.  And yet my heart aches for his family and my mind hungers to understand why?

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Gulag 101

While growing up at 101 Cascade Street, my siblings and I were subjected to a set of rules and expectations. Our parents set the rules and expectations without any input from us. In order to live there and enjoy our free room and board until we were eighteen years old, we had to abide by the rules and strive to meet the expectations.


If rules were broken then there was punishment. If expectations were not met then there were consequences. Like being grounded, banned from using the only phone in the house, or denied use of the family car. The boundaries and expectations were clear. Infractions were addressed through appropriate punishment or consequences.


We each managed to survive to eighteen years old while living in this gulag. We each emerged stronger and wiser for our years of incarceration. Fifty years later it is clear to me why it had to be that way. This prepared us to function in society where there are a set of rules and expectations that we must live by in order to navigate well through life alongside others.


If you are fifty or older you may share a similar history. So how did we become the generation that accepts and even encourages ignoring the rules and cursing the consequences? There is much wailing and gnashing of teeth that the social media platforms are censoring a particular point of view. When you joined the platform, you agreed to abide by their rules and expectations. They are private companies and are under no obligation to protect your freedom of speech.


There are many ways to share thoughts and ideals over the internet. There are platforms like Parler that touts itself as the Free Speech Social Network. So take the thoughts and ideas there and be liberated from the other platforms that are attempting to keep their platforms humane. Because no one has the authority to force you to be humane. That is up to you.

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Paint a Masterpiece

The character that we build is constructed thought by thought, word by word and action by action. The sum of our thoughts, words and actions define who we are.  Our thoughts cannot be read by others so their perception of us is based on what we say and do.   

What we intend or mean is overshadowed by our choice of words and actions.  Our goal should be to select our words and actions thoughtfully and precisely so the character we reveal is in harmony with how we see ourselves.  Careless words and actions can make us sound and appear to be harsh, insensitive, ignorant, mean, hateful, etc.  

We are each painting our own self portrait with our words and actions. We have a great canvas.  Let’s choose our brushes and colors wisely.  

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MAMMA’S BOY

I am a mamma’s boy.  I am not afraid or ashamed to claim that moniker even though I am aware that it can have negative connotations. My dear mother has done and continues to do so much for me and I consider it an honor of the highest magnitude to carry the title “mamma’s boy”.

Since giving birth to me she has loved me constantly, encouraged me consistently and prayed for me continuously.  I am alive and well today because of her continuous prayers on my behalf.  No other power but the power of a mother’s prayer, answered by a powerful heavenly Father, can explain how I have survived too many risky and dangerous situations I put myself in when I was younger.  And I am joyful everyday because that power is still at work in my life.

The pivotal moment when I fully embraced the role of mamma’s boy happened when I was about 12 or 13 years old. Mom had been away on a rare trip without dad for one of the civic clubs that she participated in.  Immediately upon her return home dad left on a business trip for several days.  So mom had to fend for herself with my younger brother, my older sister and me.

A day or two later it was getting rough on mom because we were way less than perfect teenage children. Exasperated, mom picked up the suitcase she had not yet unpacked from her trip and headed out the door to leave. We all three stood there like the proverbial deer in the headlights and watched her walk out the door toward the car.

I overcame my paralysis quickly and ran out the door after her.  I asked her “what about dad?” to which she replied “I am not leaving your dad, he is welcome to come with me”.  It was then and there I put on the mamma’s boy cape.  I asked her what I needed to do to get her to stay.  She asked me to be more considerate and more cooperative and I agreed to that and anything else she needed. So to this day, if my mom asks me to do something, anything, I agree and do it. No questions, no arguments, just do it.

What I get in exchange is what I have always had, her constant love, consistent encouragement and continuous prayers.  I think I get the better part of that deal.

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