Thirty-six years ago when Treva and I first moved to Henly, the home we built was adjacent to property owned by the neighbor who died. Our track of land was only ten acres, but it was covered with oak trees and a view of the hills. Our neighbor’s place was probably inclusive of at least a hundred plus acres along with a hilltop view. He also owned the land on both sides of a creek and the natural swimming hole that historically had been used by many in the area. The swimming hole also served as the baptistery for our church. I guess it stands to reason that baptism in Henly is seasonal. I don’t take cold showers and I don’t do cold water baptisms. It’s not that I’m narrow minded, but I don’t want someone’s act of expressing their faith to be wrought with trauma. Dip me in a pool of ice-cold water and I promise you, "I’ll probably come out fighting". It wouldn’t be a good experience. Consequently, why take that kind of risk with anyone. Shouldn’t one’s memories related to their faith-walk be positive?
I don’t know how old Ralph was when we first met him. I suspect he was approaching 40-to-45. He was both divorced and a single parent dad. His daughter lived mostly with her mother in Houston, but she came often to visit her dad. Sadly, as a young adult, his daughter preceded her dad in death. Without doubt, it was an abrupt assault to that which he held dear.
While our neighbor had the social skills and finesse to navigate his way in any type of social setting, he mostly lived up in the hills he called home and wasn’t tied to a daily work-week schedule. Reportedly, he was in his mid-thirties when he retired from a short, but very lucrative career as a defense criminal attorney in Houston. Initially, he had his day in court serving as a prosecuting attorney. Subsequently, at some point his friends from law school convinced him there was a lot more money to be made representing interests from the other side.
In reflecting on memories, a friend who spoke said that one of the things he valued most about Ralph was his ethics and his resolve to be true to himself. As a defense attorney, Ralph reportedly had the skill set to successfully navigate the courtroom experience and emerge with an acquittal for his client. He had the aptitude and legal prowess to make things happen and it always yielded benefit to those who were represented by his services.
At some point, and this is where the ethics comes in, Ralph determined that routinely orchestrating freedom or reduced sentences for folks who were guilty as charged was outside the purview of how he wanted to live his life. He had experienced enough! He couldn’t continue to do that and be true to himself. Consequently, he walked away and left it all behind. He moved to the hill country and became lost in the hills. It was a respite that fueled his soul.
Ralph had an incredible sense of humor. A couple of the stories shared were from different people, but they highlighted his lawyer-like, think-on-your-feet, kind of experiences. Another neighbor told of volunteering to drive Ralph to town. She apparently was a little hesitant to move out in front of on-coming fast moving traffic. After she forfeited many opportunities to move out into the flow of traffic where Ralph thought she could have made it, Ralph said, “No! Don’t go now. A car just left Johnson City.”
A former sister-in-law of Ralph talked about spending the night in his home and discovering a mouse in one of the dresser drawers. After she returned home, she emailed Ralph about the mouse. He promptly replied, “The mouse’s name is Mickey and his wife’s name is Minnie.”
In the brief comments I shared, I talked about the absolute appropriateness of hosting the venue in such a picturesque and perfect setting. Just driving down the road and seeing the creek provided me a flashback to the friendship and kindness Ralph rendered our family. At the time we moved to Henly, our son was in the second grade. Ralph made it clear that the swimming hole was open and available anytime we wanted to use it. He couldn’t have been more hospitable and kind. Over the twelve-year period we lived in that home, Ralph was a neighbor whose friendship I valued and appreciated.
There were several things about the celebration service that touched my heart and tugged at my heartstrings. For starters, the service was well attended. Folks found their way to carve out the time on a Sunday afternoon to make the experience a priority in their lives. In so doing, they demonstrated value and respect for Ralph. Secondly, the ease and comfort with which others spoke set the pace for a relaxed and pleasant celebration. I noticed that one of the children present was teary eyed during the celebration. That reinforced for me Ralph's ability to connect with youth and make them feel important and valued. Many of the stories shared were filled with humorous antidotes. One of Ralph’s natural gifts was the ability to be quick-witted and funny. Simply hearing “Ralph stories” highlighted the impact that Ralph’s life and influence had on others. It evolved in a sense of shared joy.
The host highlighted the reality that Ralph’s friendship and influence was a gift from God. In addition, the experience of collectively honoring Ralph for the expressed purpose of celebrating his life was also a gift from God. I am grateful I didn’t miss it.
All My Best!
Don