Battle Scars

When you go into battle chances are you are going to face an injury or wounds of some type. My battle injuries have not come from war since I have never been able to serve our country in this manner. My battle scars come from sports.

In baseball I’ve had “strawberries” from sliding into base and jammed fingers from catching the ball wrongly. I played second base and used my left leg to block the base from the runners stealing second. Mind you this was in the days of steel cleats so my left legging was ripped to shreds and left calf remained scared from being in the way of many a base stealer.

In track I ran the hurdles, high and low. We started out with a cinder track, which meant every time I fell I ended up picking small pieces of red clay from their embedded homes in my arms and legs. My left knee remained in a state of “need of repair” from constantly nicking the top of a hurdle as I sailed over them and sprinted down the track.

In football I played tailback, offensive end, defensive end and was on the kickoff and return team. I have had a broken collar bone, broken cervical vertebrae, two holes drilled in my skull for traction (no comments please) a cracked knuckle, two broken teeth, sprained ankles, a hip pointer and cuts, bruises and abrasions most of which I can’t even remember.

But, you know what? There is not one of these sports that I wouldn’t want to go back and play again. I loved all of them. Injuries and wounds are just part of the game. They are going to happen if you are on the field of play. The only ones who don’t get injured are those who are on the sidelines. Well, they may get injured if they stand in the way of someone playing, but for the most part sideliners are pretty healthy.

Life is that way, too. Any time you are trying to move ahead, anytime you are trying to do what is right, any time you take a risk there is the chance that you will be scarred. Church life, work life, school life and so on are going to be what we make of them. We can be sideliners and watch the world go by, never taking the time to make it better or we can be players. But if we decide to play we’d better expect that we will eventually get hurt. Then again, if you really love what you’re doing the hurts won’t be that painful and you’ll continue on in spite of the pain.

I never changed the way I guarded second base. I never ran around a 42” high hurdle because I was afraid of hitting my knee or toppling to cinder track. Believe it or not after I broke my collar bone I ran another play. I remember in the huddle telling Billy Don, “I think I’ve hurt my shoulder, let someone else take the ball.” And if I could go back to those days knowing what I know now, I’d still play. Why? Because I loved the games.

We have a choice. We can go through life afraid, never getting into the game, sitting on the sideline and not caring if we make a difference or not. Or we can run onto the field of play. Yes, we’re going to get injured from time to time. Someone is going to criticize us. Someone is going to get mad at us. Someone is going to treat us rudely. True, we may embarrass ourselves. Of course, we will make mistakes. And inevitably, we will probably fail many times. But if we love what we’re doing these things will only make us stronger leaving only minor scars of reminders that we can overcome what life throws at us.

I have a lump on my collar bone, two holes in the top of my head and a few knuckles with arthritis. They are all reminders, not of pain, but of the things which I enjoyed doing in my life.

October 4, 1957

It weighed a little over 183 pounds and was less than 25 inches wide. Scores of people crowded to try and get a glimpse of it. It was the most amazing thing anyone had ever seen. Nothing in the world had ever been built that could compare to the amazement of what this small object held as people anxiously jostled for a chance to see it. The pyramids were spectacular, but only a few thousand people a year made the trip to see them. The Empire State building was magnificent with a glorious view, but again the crowds were minimal to the millions that wanted to get a look at this small simple object.

It was a Friday night in October when it came to our town. In Texas Friday night is big with hundreds of football games across the state. But the buzz that night was not the game. It was what was coming to town. The big problem was that it was to arrive after the ballgame had already started. The dilemma of choice was tough, should we miss the game to see it or not? Others made plans to see it after the game was over, but it was still on their minds throughout the game. Parents were telling their children about it and it was exciting that it was coming to our town.

I remember seeing it for the first time. We actually got to see it before we headed off to the game. “There it is” someone cried out, but it was a false alarm, so we continued to wait. Then there standing in the dark someone pointed upward and shouted “Look over there!” This time it was there right before our eyes. We all stood in silence and watched as it moved across the sky, a simple white streak of light, barely visible to the naked eye. Amazing! Fantastic! Wow!

It was October 4, 1957 and its name was Sputnik, the first manmade object put into orbit around the earth. There was really nothing to it compared to what takes place today, but to that generation it was a marvel of man’s achievement. It was a mere speck in the universe that circled the earth every 98 minutes.It didn’t do much, but it started the “race for space” that eventually put men on the moon and routinely now sends men up and back again. Now there is talk of even going deeper into God’s universe.

Great events don’t always start out great, but many times begin small and grow into greatness. It’s the same with people. The great people of history did not all start out great. Men like Moses, David, Joseph, Peter, Paul and many others of the Bible were simple ordinary people that God used to do great things upon this earth. No one said look there’s Moses, but when God used him to part the sea his name went down in history. David was a simple shepherd, but when he downed Goliath people wrote songs about him. The Bible teaches us that God can do great things using the ordinary, simply because “He” is great.

We often dwell on our weaknesses. We spend time looking at how little we are instead of the great things God can do in us. Most importantly we fail to see that when we do little things for God it can quickly spread and be something great for him.

Tonight as I walk outside and look up into the sky, I will no longer see Sputnik, but I will still behold the great heavens built by God in which it took its journey.

To My Friends of 1965

Just recently one of the families in our congregation had family members involved in a terrible automobile accident. More than 50 people were at the hospital when the injured family members arrived. Others drove 60 miles to be with other family members and still others were in Ft. Worth at the hospital waiting for the arrival of others that were injured. It's times like this when you realize how great it has to have friends who love and care for you.

As I thought about it later I wondered, what is it like for people who have no friends when they need them? Did the people in the other car have scores of people waiting to support them or were they all alone? Solomon wrote "If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up."

In a time that seems so long ago, but then like only yesterday I was picked up by my friends. Many of these friends were people that I did not even know, but cared about me enough to be beside me through a dark hour. The attached video is a "God Story" that was given for our church. But it is also a friend story. It's a story of how I made it through a tough time because there were literally hundreds of people who were with me. I thank the Lord that I had so many people at the time who wanted to pick me up.

To all my friends known and unknown in 1965 I say thanks for being there.

I Started School as a First Grader

I had the fortunate opportunity to attend the same public school system for twelve years. Although most of the memories are locked up somewhere in the file cabinet of my mind there are still glimpses of the past that will pop into consciousness every so often.

I started school in the first grade, since kindergarten didn't exist in Plano in the '50s. The school was Plano Elementary School, later to be named Mendenhall Elementary. First grade started on the far west wing and you continued from grade to grade and finished the sixth grade at the far east wing. The building was only around 3-4 years old when I started so was modern for the time.

It's hard to remember much of my childhood in detail, but I do remember every teacher I had in elementary school. I can even still picture their faces in my mind. I also remember how I felt about each one. In first grade I had Mrs. Rogers. I guess this was the one teacher I remember liking the least and was glad to leave first grade. She wasn't mean and in fact was always kind to me and a lot of my classmates loved her, but I can remember distinct times that she made fun of someone, one of whom was me, and I guess this stuck in my mind and I was ready to move on.

In second grade I had a grandmotherly type teacher in Ella Page. She was one of my favorites and I remember crying when school was out and we'd have a new teacher the next year. She tried to comfort me, but I knew no one could take her place. Then came the third grade and Miss Streetman. I think this must have been her first teaching job and to the boys she was beautiful. We were nine and she was a much older 22 at the time. She'd give the boys a kiss on the cheek when they left class, a highlight of the day. She was a very kind person. I didn't get a penmanship certificate that year and cried about it (I cried a lot back then). She felt sorry for me and said she'd give me one if I'd work on my writing over the summer. That was the last one I got, the rest of teachers weren't such push overs.

In the fourth grade I moved to the east wing and Clara Wilson's class. She was probably the most fun of all the teachers I had in elementary. You guessed it, I cried when I left that class too. For the record this was the last time I cried moving to the next class. From there on out it was "let's move on". Fifth grade brought Jack Harris another new one to teaching but was fun to be around.

Next stop was the sixth grade. The one teacher you didn't want to get was Mrs. Kate Holder. We had heard the horror stories of bleeding hands and boxed ears from discipline. To those of us who were younger she was scary! We had two or three 6th grade classes so everyone wanted one of the others. The first time I walked into the room there she was, I had drawn the short straw, the dread of the 6th grade. But you know, what we fear is not always what is out there. Mrs. Holder was strict, but she was also kind and I enjoyed being in her class that year.

Children are impressionable and and the impression we leave on them can last a lifetime. I've no idea where all these people are today. Some have passed away and others I'm sure are retired somewhere out there. But in my memories the legacy of school that they left me is still there over 50 years later.

Jesus loved children. He encourages us to make a good impression on them and not lead them astray. In our children lies the future of the nation and the church, we should do everything to give a great impression that will lie forever in their hearts.

In my mind I can still walk the halls of Plano Elementary School and am thankful for the faces I see in my mind that made my six years there a joy to remember.

Question from a Seven Year Old

Friday night I answered the phone and my 7 year old niece was on the other end of the line. She then began to ask me a theological question that I had never been asked in my 40+ years of ministry. A theological question from a seven year old? Now that was something I was never expecting. In fact it's a question I'd never asked myself and have never been asked by an adult, mostly because to an adult the answer is obvious, but it was a very logical question for a seven year old to ask.

"Uncle Danny," she asked, "If the Bible says that brothers and sisters are not suppose to get married how can brothers and sisters at church get married?" You must admit that for a seven year old to come up with such a question it had to have her mind clicking on things she had heard at church and at home. However, no one knew how she came up with this particular question.

As adults many of us don't think that deep when it comes to Bible study. We rush quickly through our reading hardly pausing to take in what God's word is trying to tell us, much less asking ourselves questions about what we read. I don't know if it's an "I don't care" or just a "I never thought of that" attitude. However, most of the time the question goes unasked and often we go through life never knowing the answer.

As we study and start asking ourselves questions we'll get much more value from our time in the Word. What it does is cause us to research and seek out answers. This in turn deepens our faith. The "whys" and "how comes" are what can spark us on to delving deeper in the Words of God.

By asking questions I found out that Noah was still alive for the first 50 years of Abraham's life. Wow, just think to be able to sit at the feet of the man whose story you had heard over and over. By asking questions we learn that when we talk about Jesus bearing the cross, it's not the physical wooden cross, but the burden of sin that he truly carried for man. We learn by asking questions in our study.

A small child will ask you a thousand "whys" trying to quench his or her thirst to know. In the words of Jesus "So I say to you: Ask and it will be given unto you. Seek and you shall find. Knock and the door will be opened to you." If you never ask the question, you'll never know the lesson.

So I received a theological question from a seven year old. How do you explain it so they'll understand the answer. The simple answer is that brothers and sisters with the same grand-parents cannot marry other than it's okay. This doesn't completely answer her question, but maybe it will suffice until she turns eight.

What's Wrong with Today's Music?!

I would like to share what is wrong with the music our young people play today. The answer is as simple as, you know, "the nose on your face". It is so plain that it will make perfect common sense once I explain it below. The main issue with music today is that it is too loud and the words don't make any sense. When you compare music to today to that of the past it is obvious there is a problem.

Where are the days when you could sit down and hear a love song about your girl "Boney Maroney" who's as skinny as a stick of macaroni or your girl named "Rama-lama-lama, lama-lama-ding-dong" who means everything to you?

You remember when music really asked the hard questions like "Who put the bomp in the bomp-bah-bomp-bah-bomp? or know that what sets our hearts aglow is the "boogity, boogity, boogity, shoo" and how it happens every time my baby and I dance to the "dip da dip da dip"?

Oh and what deep meaning when we hear that "a-wop-bop-a-loo-bop-a-lop-bam-boom" as we "Tutti Fruitti" or "Wooley Bully". Yes and how life could be a dream "sh-boom sh-boom ya-da-da da-da-da da-da-da da sh-boom" with my baby "beep bop a lula" in the red blue jeans.

And when we didn't know what to say to our girl the doctor coached us with "Oooo eee oooo ah ah ting tang walla walla bing bang, Oooo eee oooo ah ah ting tang walla walla bang bang" knowing "hoop dee doo, hoop de doo" when we heard a Polka our troubles were through.

Generations are different. We all have our likes and dislikes. Granted I don't like the songs with off color or suggestive lyrics. Then again as a teen I remember having "Louie Louie" and "House of the Rising Sun" banned from our school dances.

In order for generations to get along and solve our problems it's important that we try to understand each other. No generation is any better than any other. We all have something to offer. The older generations need to listen to the younger and the younger needs to listen to the older. It's a two way street to a better world.

Now I'll still have a button on my XM radio for the 50's music and one for the 60's, but I expect that half-time at the super bowl will be music for a much younger generation. You know what? That's okay. It's okay to be different with different likes and dislikes. It's okay if you like blue and I like maroon. It's okay if you like chocolate and I like vanilla. It's okay if I wear a tie to church and you don't It's okay to be different.

The main thing is that we learn to respect each other for who we are and "hot diggity dog diggity" and "tweedlee dee" we'll be able to "ba-bah-ba-ba-bah, ba-ba-bah-bah-bah" in harmony.

My Dad: Plano's #1 Football Fan

Plano’s “Friday Night Lights” Keeper Retires

By DeAnn Daley Holcomb, Special to the Star Courier

Published: Thursday, March 4, 2010 11:04 AM CST

In the lore of Texas football, Smitty Minton is truly what the saying “Friday Night ights” is all about.

Minton has missed just one Plano Senior football game since 1959, and for more than 20 years, Minton has been the final person in Clark Stadium to turn out the stadium lights.

Minton’s love of football led him out of retirement in the mid-1980s to join the Plano ISD athletic department to supervise Clark Stadium and on Friday, coaches, co-workers, friends and family said farewell as the 86-year-old Minton retired from his duties of taking care of the field and stadium at Clark.

“I always like to close,” Minton said. “When the game is over, I go through the field because it was always important to me to put the field to sleep – that’s what I call it: you close down the stadium, lock it up and turn off the lights.

“Everyone leaves the stadium and everything is back to what it was before. You make sure all the kids have a ride home and then you turn out the lights – I will never forget it.”

Minton’s granddaughter, Sarah Minton, watched as her grandfather greeted and visited with folks who had come by the Clark Stadium Athletic office on Friday to say goodbye.

“Football is his second love and family is his first love,” Sarah said. “He taught me how much he loves football and he always talks about how the football field comes to life on Friday nights.

“Then, when it is over, my grandfather told me the field tells what happened during the game and then when you turn off the lights at the stadium, it can heal you in a sense that it is taken care of and what football means to a community on Friday night.”

Minton and his wife, Dorothy, moved from Dallas to Plano in 1954, after Minton retired from the Navy, having fought in World War II. The Mintons started going to Plano football games because, as he tells it, there wasn’t much to do in Plano on Friday nights.

“We would go to Rice Field and watch Plano play back then,” Minton said. “From 1954 to 1959 we would go to the Plano home games and then in 1959 we started going to all of the games, whether it was a home game or out of town, and I have only missed one Plano game since 1959.”

The Mintons had four children, Kathy, Danny, Gary and Terry. All three of the sons played football for the Wildcats. During a Plano playoff game in Wichita Falls in 1965, Minton’s oldest son, Danny, broke his neck during the game.

“Back then we didn’t have trainers, so they carried him off the field and laid him on the bench,” Minton said, “and when he nearly passed out that was when they got him in to an ambulance.

“He recovered from the injury and Danny was given the game ball from the first Wildcats championship that year.”

In 1966 and ‘67, Minton served as the Plano Wildcats’ Quarterback Club captain. It would be 20 years later when Minton would come out of retirement and go to work for the PISD, where he first worked on a school crew mowing and taking care of school grounds.

“I got tired of staying home by myself since my wife was still working, and one day I ran into John Clark and asked him if I could get a job at the school district,” Minton said. “John was here at the stadium and I later told him I wanted to work on the athletic fields, and he called me when the guy working the fields was hurt and I started working full time at the stadium in 1986. I would clean the stadium, make it shine, mow the yard and keep the field in good condition. I like to lay out athletic fields and I like to work outside.”

The athletic department was moved to Clark Stadium in 2003.

“We built a storage house for all of the equipment,” Minton said. “My day starts at six in the morning with a cup of coffee, and by 7 a.m. I am ready and open for business, and then the coaches come over and pick up the equipment they need for the day.”

PISD assistant athletic director Russ Schuler calls Minton a Plano legend.

“All of the coaches love him,” Schuler said. “Smitty had his system of going around, locking all of the doors, picking up the barricades, making sure all of the outside gates were locked and making sure everyone is out of the locker room and no one was left behind. And when it was quiet and he prepared to leave, then the last thing would be to turn the lights out.”

Minton said he is going to miss the stadium, the field and coaches and being a part of the football aura.

“I’ve seen some great players and great games at Clark and I will never forget,” he said.

Remembering won’t be too difficult for Minton as he has every Plano football program since the early 1970s along with plenty of Wildcat memorabilia. Minton even drives a maroon truck.

But Minton isn’t likely to be forgotten either.

He was given special recognition at the Plano ISD Hall of Honor banquet for being a devoted Wildcat fan for more than 50 years and the elevator at Clark Stadium is known as “Smitty’s Elevator.” At Minton’s retirement reception Friday, he was presented with a Wildcat football jersey with the number “1” on the back, along with a lifetime pass to any Plano athletic game.

“He missed his daughter’s first child being born because he was in line buying tickets to a Plano football game,” said Terry Minton, Smitty’s son. “Dad loves being around football, coaches and athletics. To my dad, taking care of the stadium is a passion just like it is a coach’s passion with football.”

Sarah wrote on her blog the day before her grandfather’s retirement party, “I never thought I would see the day he retired. He’s leaving his second love tomorrow, his permanent Friday night date. I hope they let him turn the lights out at Clark Stadium one last time.”

A Man of Integrity

Years ago while in high school I was given a book by Foy L. Smith entitled "The Days of Thy Youth". In one chapter of the book he tells the story of an old gospel preacher named Theophilus Brown Larimore.

T. B. Larimore was riding out west in a railway passenger car when outlaws came along side and halted the train. The robbers boarded the car and began demanding that the passengers drop their possessions into a bag; watches, jewelry, gold coins, wallets and anything else that could be exchanged for money. They came to Larimore and he placed a few crumpled dollars into the mouth of the sack. The outlaw asked if that was all he had and he told him it was.

As the thieves started to leave, the preacher called out to the leader who returned to him. "Sir", he told him apologetically, "I find that I have misrepresented the truth. When you asked me if that was all I had I told you it was, but then discovered I had put a one dollar bill in my vest pocket." Larimore extended his hand with the dollar bill toward the outlaw. The leader of the bandits was taken back and didn't know what to say to this. After a few moments he told his men to give the preacher back everything they had taken from him saying, "It is good to meet and honest man."

It used to be that a man's word meant something. Deals were finalized by handshakes. If someone said they'd do something, they did it. The grocery stores had counter checks without names or numbers, you filled those in. You could go into the corner store and if the clerk was busy, you'd put your money on the counter and leave yelling across the way, "Money's on the counter." Our parents left the front door unlocked 24 hours a day. You could leave your bike on the driveway, your car unlocked or your purse in the grocery basket and when you returned it would still be there untouched. Oh, there were exceptions, but they were few and far between in small town America where I grew up.

Today, however, it's a different story. We lock our doors and we have security systems installed for extra safety. Our cars have alarms and we are told never to leave valuables in plain view. Our sales slip is checked when we leave a store, our garages are locked and handshakes are just a greeting.

People fudge on their taxes, lie on their golf score and blame someone else whenever something goes wrong. We don't trust the president, politicians, lawyers, salesmen and often even preachers. We follow someones promise with "When I see it, I"ll believe it." We feel fortunate when the waiter forgets to put a charge on our check or the clerk inadvertently charges us too little.

Kathy and I were at a restaurant a couple of years ago in Plano. When I looked at the ticket I noticed that she had forgotten to charge us for one entire meal. I pointed this out and could tell the waitress was stunned. The manager came by and asked if something was wrong, so I explained to him the situation. He looked at me as if to say "You're complaining because your bill is too low?" It took 10 minutes to get it corrected and the manager told me he'd never had anyone do that before.

It's sad when honesty and integrity are so rare that it surprises people when it occurs. Yes , sometimes the truth hurts. Yes, sometimes being honest gets us into trouble. Yes, it's embarrassing at times to admit our weaknesses or faults. But to be viewed as a person of integrity and character far outweighs the negatives.

I hope someday that someone will be able to say about me, "It's good to meet an honest man."

God On Texas Ballot

One of the most controversial propositions in the 2010 Republican primary is Proposition #4. In fact it's bringing more attention than the Perry-Hutchinson Governors race. Proposition #4 states:

Public Acknowledgment of God - The use of the word "God," prayers and the Ten Commandments should be allowed at public gatherings and public educational institutions, as well as permitted on government buildings and property. - YES or NO

Go online and you'll get all types of reactions most positive but also several calling Texans, idiots, loons and a few names I can't print here. It's strange I didn't hear this kind of uproar when one person would take an entire school district to court and win a decision that would keep hundreds from saying a prayer publicly before a football game or graduation ceremony.

What's really sad to me is that this type of proposition has to be on the ballot at all. It will overwhelmingly pass on the GOP ballot. But that's as far as it will probably go. Why? There are actually two reasons. First, most Christians leave Christianity out of politics. It's rare even to see a politician really let his Christian faith be shown once in public office. Secondly, Christians do not stand up for Christ in public the way we should.

Why is the Muslim religion the fastest growing religion in the world today? Part of it is because they take it seriously. They honor God and do not allow anyone to desecrate his name. Christians go to movies and are entertained by shows that continually abuse the names of God and Jesus. Muslims pray at least five times a day. Christians pray on Sunday and sometimes at meal times. Muslims are required to give a certain percentage of everything they own, not just their income. Christians for the most part will give a percentage of whatever is left over.

To let the world know what we stand for shouldn't take a ballot. It doesn't take violence. It doesn't demand that we walk around with a "better than you" attitude. It simply takes standing up for Christ everywhere we turn. Christianity is still the largest religious group in the United States. For Christ to win we don't have to force it down people's throats, we just have to live it even in the face of verbal persecution.

If we don't like the movies that are being made, then don't go. I guarantee you that the face of movies would change if the Christians of this country stopped pouring our money into them at the box office. The law says we can't have a prayer over the loud speaker, but nothing says a fan can't start the Lord's prayer in the stands. I would wager (if I did anyway) if someone did start the Lord's Prayer in the stands basically the entire stadium would join in.

The strongest power in this country is that of God the Father and Jesus Christ being lived in the lives of individuals. If Christians would just live like Christians, let their faith be seen in actions and words then I believe we'd see a changed country.

Proposition #4 may never get passed the Republican agenda. But that doesn't mean that God is silenced. Only Christians have the power to silence the name of God.

Don't Knock It 'Til You Try It

What's the strangest food combination you've ever eaten? When growing up I learned to like liver and cooked carrots by dousing ketchup all over them. I like peanut butter on my waffles, crunchy of course. When I eat my peanut butter sandwiches I sometimes put the potato chips on the peanut butter in the sandwich.

My father-in-law liked onion on his apple pie and my mother loved a glass of buttermilk with cornbread crumbled inside. And who hasn't enjoyed a tasty Miracle Whip sandwich or a slice of pineapple dipped in horseradish sauce.

But my grandfather had one strange combination I had never heard of and have yet to try. He liked peanut butter and mashed potato sandwiches. Then I heard of people who have peanut butter and mayo sandwiches, pickles on their peanut butter sandwich and even ranch dressing and peanut butter.

My uncle used to make fun of his step-dad and the peanut butter and mashed potato sandwiches. Then one day my grandfather told him, "Don't knock, 'til you try it." So my uncle jumped off the deep end and tried it. And you know what? Right! He liked it!

I see people go through life always knocking what other people like before they've even tried it themselves. I hear people criticizing churches whose doors they have never entered. They judge people without even knowing them.

I'm reminded of the story of a man and woman who moved to a certain neighborhood. Whenever the couple would visit peoples homes the husband would always stay close by his wife. He would never let her leave his side even for a short time. After a few years the couple moved and the families they left behind began to criticize him. They would talk about how much of a chauvinist he was and how he acted so much like a tyrant to his sweet wife. Finally, a fellow neighbor who knew him better than everyone else spoke up. "What you don't know," he said, "is that his wife is a kleptomaniac. By keeping her by his side he was both protecting her as well as your belongings."

So before we become judgemental of people. Before we criticize this or that. Before we present ourselves as being disgusted over someone or something. Let's take the time to know what we're talking about.

Chances are it will change our entire view of things and we just may like it!