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Personal Introduction To My Dad

my dad shared with me freely a deep consideration for all people

I credit the foundations of my faith to my dad. My dad’s name was Joner, he was born in 1935.

The great depression did not affect his family in most ways that it affected others. They worked hard,

with hardly any rest, before, during and after the depression. They didn’t know anything different than

raising their own little livestock and gardens and having large families living in a very small house far back

in the hills of Eastern Kentucky.

Dad was one of the middle children of a dozen and he, and his siblings, enjoyed telling me about

memories as a child. Dad remembered seeing the first car to make the torturous trip up the holler creek-

bed by his families home. He told of Grandma’s terror, running out into the yard to pray on her knees in

honor of Jesus return to find that her fear and trembling was simply greeted by the first air plane to cross

their virgin skies. And, of course, it was nothing for the kids to strap on what was left of their annual pair

of shoes to traipse a few miles down to the mouth of the branch in ice, snow, rain, and usually wading

through the creek to get to school. Between the troublesome daily tour of the creek and excessive hours of work year-round at home, it is no wonder that he did not exceed the sixth grade. Later on, every few months, Grandpa and Grandma would load up whoever they could in their own car to go to the big city, called Prestonsburg, for a few supplies like sugar and spices.

A few things my dad knew and shared with me freely were: A deep consideration for all people; A natural and reasonable faith in God and all things; and a pride in the best contributions to society a person can make. Dad’s family moved out of the hills and to the center of Northern Indiana, along with many other families, for a chance to better their economic situation. Dad eventually ended up spending most of his life working in factories. He took great pride in being able to polish fine pieces of stainless steel, that had been molded into replacement bone parts and medical tools, to perfection.

No matter who my dad met, or what condition they were in, he made every effort to make them feel like He was no better than them. Dad believed that no one is better or worse than another and He enjoyed the hordes of diverse visitors, during his last two weeks of fading mortal life, to say goodbye. Dad’s life-long dream of accepting and being accepted by everyone also became his legacy. He would not accept anyone’s disdain of another race, color, or life-style. Many times, Dad did not know much about or understand another person, but He was always there for them if He could be of any encouragement or help in any way. Dad would not accept dogmatic beliefs and told me that faith is faith no matter how it is expressed, faith reaches the same God.

Dad would point out circumstances, in our own church as much as any faith-based organization, and express how if something is not reasonable and equal to everyone then it is not the natural course of faith and does not exemplify the nature of God. He did not allow me to think that He had anything in life harder than anyone else and appreciated everything he had right down to his dying day. I know without a doubt that dad is waiting and watching from the other side in great interest in what I will do with these things he has taught and shared for so many years. There is nothing that my dad had the ability to do that could have meant more to me or affected my life more than had been the sharing of his faith, ethics, and consideration for others. I hope that I can be even half the presence he was, and grow half as much as he did, in this life.

Here is a portion of my August 16, 2006 Warsaw, Indiana USA, Times-Union Letter to the Editor

My old-fashioned-believing dad taught me that no one is unacceptable to God and a multitude in this area can attest to his love and gentleness for "everyone". No matter how down-and-out, he would stick up for anyone. My dad took groups of us skating, to movies, theme parks, and he even had a TV and tape recorder when the churches we love didn't believe in any of those things. And when he walked up to people covered in leather and tattoos it repelled or even scared most traditional churchgoers; it was a blessing to find these people knew my dad and found him to be the most caring Christian man they knew. Dad's faith trusted God to provide salvation for anyone who simply believes and anything less is a lack of faith in God's ability and worthiness to be the only true judge.

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