might be baloney

On the evening of Sunday, September 26, I received notification from our senior pastor that the Reverend Doug Hill had passed away. 

This was an unexpected shock to me. My heart hurt. Doug was the real deal.

I don’t remember exactly how I came to know Doug and his wife, Janet. But, when Doug retired from the Virginia Conference of the United Methodist Church, he and Janet settled in Richmond, and they began attending Trinity United Methodist on Forest Avenue in Henrico County.

For 42 years, Doug was in church buildings around Virginia. He served with distinction as a pastor and later as a district superintendent. Doug knew his way around the districts in the conference. He had a wide range of geographical assignments in his work. I don’t sense he ever backed away from a challenging designation.

At Trinity, Doug and Janet fit right in, and they quickly acclimated themselves and became involved. Their leadership styles were different, but their hearts were always perfectly positioned to make an impact.

One winter evening after I had taken the job as property manager at Trinity, I was in a meeting at the church. Doug was in this meeting too, and a man came into the church who was asking for assistance for the night. Doug came down with me to talk with the man. We were not able to solve his challenge for the night, but I appreciated Doug being a part of that encounter.

Once as Doug and Janet were packed up for a trip, Doug fell. It was not a good fall, he broke one of his hips. He recovered, but I remember him sharing the doctor’s post surgery advice: “Don’t you fall again!” To my knowledge he never did. But, Doug was very skilled at helping people who for assorted reasons had fallen on the path of living.

A handful of times, I was asked to pinch hit in the pulpit for one of our pastors. Whenever I had finished writing the sermon, if Doug was available, I asked him to come to the church to listen to a practice session in the Sanctuary.

 He never turned me down. And to Doug’s credit, he was gentle in his suggestions for improvement. He never chastised with theological jargon or theories. He kept me focused on the task at hand and helped me find a bit more of confidence. Somewhere, in my mess of desk I have a beautiful handwritten note from Doug. I will cherish that note forever.

If you knew Doug, you knew he was a storyteller. All of those interactions with people in all kinds of settings during his career had given him a full library of experiences. Over the years, Doug shared a few with me, and I always learned something from these stories. 

No matter how difficult the setting in a church or a community, I learned more about him and how he worked with people. In those reflections, I was always amazed at his coolness, his calmness, and his capacity to lead and communicate with precision to the person who needed help or who had stepped over church boundaries.

Back in August of this summer, we asked Doug if he would participate in the Twelve Days of September. This was designed as a brief interview conversation with staff members and our congregation. We tried to captured every age demographic, and we wanted to know how the pandemic had impacted them and our church.

Because of the pandemic, we conducted the interviews on the grounds of the church. On the afternoon of Doug’s interview, we sat under the shade of dogwoods, crepe myrtles, and the east side of the Sanctuary. Richmond’s August heat and humidity were at their best that afternoon. We did the interview in one take, and Doug true to form despite the summer heat was as cool as a cucumber.

We talked for several minutes after the interview, and during that time frame, my mind was graced with another story. This one had to do with Doug learning how to run a church. Doug felt his seminary experience had prepared him well for delivering sermons, and conducting weddings, baptisms, and funerals. But, he wanted to learn more about the daily working of a church.

Doug made arrangements to meet with Dr. James Turner who at the time was the senior pastor at Trinity. A schedule was set up and for several weeks, Doug and Dr. Turner met. Doug learned about how to run meetings related to Finance, the Trustees, Staff Parish, and Church Council.

When their last tutoring session was completed, Dr. Turner looked at Doug, and he gave Doug a final tip. 

He said— “remember, when you are working with church people, you must be able to chuckle.”

 Of course, Doug was curious about this recommendation to chuckle.  So, he asked Dr. Turner—“why is it important to chuckle?” 

Dr. Turner looked Doug in the eye and said—“ because church people are crazy.”

In his 42 years of work with church people, I’m pretty sure Doug found numerous opportunities to chuckle about his work.

But, I also know during his years of service that Doug touched hearts.  

He touched those hearts in every moment that the chaos of life can toss at a person. And in that chaos people found the real deal, a man who knew his calling, and a man who knew how to respond to people in need.

Thank you Doug Hill for touching my life.

 My heart will never forget you and your stories.

Honored to have this piece in the Virginian-Pilot

Show respect for the challenge bus drivers face

BY BILL PIKE GUEST COLUMNIST

On Oct. 5, my wife and I were driving from Richmond toward Smith Mountain Lake. We were meeting longtime college friends for a few days.

Traveling on Virginia Route 24, we eventually intersected with U.S. 29. At that intersection, I looked to my left and saw a parked Campbell County school bus. The bus had a large banner on the side stating the school system needed school bus drivers.

As we made our turn on to U.S. 29, I thought to myself probably no school system in Virginia has been immune from finding and hiring school bus drivers. Apparently, Virginia isn’t alone in filling these driver seats. I’ve read the headlines about this need across America too.

I had the privilege of working in the public schools of Virginia for 31 years as a teacher, coach, assistant principal and principal. Also, I served a 14-month appointment on our local school board. So, I know how important school bus drivers are to school systems.

There are many challenging jobs in a school system. However, one of the toughest is driving a school bus. In fact, in this driver shortage, I often ask, “Why would any perfectly sane human being want to drive a school bus?”

To become a school bus driver is no easy task. School systems work carefully to find candidates who can meet multiple qualifying standards.

Once those hurdles are passed, drivers undergo extensive training learning all about that big yellow box on wheels. This includes driving the bus in a variety of settings and conditions.

When drivers complete their training, they are assigned a route. Before the start of school, the drivers drive this route pin-pointing their designated stops, while also taking in the terrain.

While driving a route, a driver is focused on three keys: the road in front of them, the passengers sitting behind them and listening to radio messages from pupil transportation dispatchers who are choreographing routes across the system.

Unfortunately, the road in front of the driver is filled with other motorists who run stop signs, ignore yield signs, barrel through red lights, speed beyond the posted limit and who can be inconsiderately impatient with the pace of a school bus.

Additionally, despite interior cameras and an oversized rearview mirror, sometimes disruptive student passengers are a distraction for a driver. Student code of conducts apply to riding a school bus too.

School bus drivers must also be amateur psychologists. Drivers use their interpersonal skills to develop relationships with students, parents and the staffs at each school they serve.

Often overlooked in the daily transportation of students is that school systems also use their bus drivers to carry students to all types of extracurricular activities after school. This is another level of pressure for drivers as some activities require traveling longer distances during the evening.

Financially, pupil transportation is a big chunk of a school system’s budget. The cost of the bus, maintenance, fuel, along with pay and benefits for drivers are expensive expenditures.

During this shortage of drivers, school systems are in competition to find qualified candidates. Human resource leaders have worked to create signing bonuses, raise pay and improve benefits to attract drivers. While this might be easier for larger school systems to implement, systems with smaller budgets will struggle to match those incentives.

Is there a solution?

To be truthful, I believe school systems are working hard to find and hire competent drivers. But I believe school system leaders and our communities need to revisit a neglected word in our world today — respect.

Veteran school bus drivers will acknowledge that adequate pay and benefits are important. But those same drivers will state of equal importance is respect for what they do every day. This respect must come from students, parents, school personnel and the motorist on their routes.

That respect is critical for the bus driver’s sanity.

Bill Pike resides in Henrico County. For 31 years, he was a public school educator in Martinsville and Henrico County including a 14-month appointment on the Henrico County School Board.

On the morning of Sunday, October 24, I had volunteered to teach our Sunday school class. Because of that stubbornly mean virus, we were scheduled to meet on the grounds of the church.

Prior to the start of class, there was a lot of chatter. Some of that chatter centered on college football. 

In this case, the focus was on another tough loss for Virginia Tech. Apparently, this loss has landed the team’s coach in the hot seat. Fans at the end of the game were chanting—“fire Fuentes.” 

Yes, coaching college football today is tough work, just ask Ed Orgeron, head football coach at Louisiana State University. 

Back on October 17, the university’s athletic director announced that Coach Orgeron would not be returning for the 2022 season. He will finish out this season, and in December the coach will receive a nice Christmas present—$5.68 million.

Yes, Coach Orgeron who over the last few years has made some questionable decisions all in the name of winning football games is having his contract bought out for a mere $16.949 million.

Clearly, I made the wrong career choice. I should have aspired to become a college football coach. 

Win some games, maybe earn post season bowl game appearances, maybe win a national title, make some questionable decisions in the name of winning, and then be let go, not fired, and walk away with millions. That’s not a bad gig, especially if a coach has no conscience.

But, back to Sunday school class. 

Without question, COVID-19 has punched churches in the nose. Normal predictable routines for the weekly operations of a church have been completely disrupted. I sense there is a weariness hanging over churches. Congregations are in some instances becoming impatient with how the virus is still impacting offerings from a church. 

Preachers in particular are at the center of this decision making pressure. Being a preacher is tough enough without a pandemic pestering you every minute of the day. And in truth in this environment, there are no easy answers.

I believe in the early stages of the virus, churches scrambled mostly via technology to punch back at this nemesis. 

And when churches had the right resources in place, they did an admirable job. 

Yes, technology allows for a connecting to a congregation. However,  it isn’t quite the same as physically being in the sanctuary, fellowship hall, or Sunday school classroom.

Natural born worrier that I am, I sense churches are now facing a troubling undertow of disconnection. What churches have offered during the pandemic is losing its punch, its effectiveness.

In 1992, political strategist, James Carville, is credited for this campaign statement—“It’s the economy, stupid.” As preachers continue to find ways to counter COVID-19, they would be wise to reword Carville’s statement—“It’s the congregation, stupid.”

Preachers, their staffs, and their congregational leaders must realize it is urgent, I mean urgent to simply reach out and reconnect with the congregation. 

This can’t be neglected. To neglect this opportunity will only allow the virus to continue to punch churches into obscurity.

Yes, reconnecting might be difficult work. But, the survival of the church depends upon this effort. Preachers who can’t figure this out might as well go ahead and resign from their position. There will be no post-pandemic survival without the reconstructing of relationships—period.

Somewhere in the wild blue yonder God is up there. 

I’ll be honest with you somedays I wonder if God is still on the job. Somedays, I want to fire him as I question his apparent inability to respond to the weariness down here. 

I’m sure there are days when God wants to fire me too. I can only imagine how close I have come. 

I can hear him now, “Get a strike force of angels ready. Pike is driving me nuts today. He is ineffective, whining, fearful, impatient, not listening, has no vision, selfish, wobbling, stubborn, critical, and is losing his faith.”

And then maybe one little angel will brazenly pushback at God, “You know Yahweh, while all that might be true, I will say this about old Bill—his heart still has hope.”

Later on that same Sunday afternoon, my old heart saw a bit of hope.  

Our kids church leader and her team offered a Halloweenie Roast and Fall Festival. The young families in our church were the targeted audience. The team knew a bonus would be to pick up families from our community too.  A gaga pit, parking lot chalk art, an art project, hotdogs, and local entertainer, Jonathan The Juggler, were part of the event.

Overall, I think the outing was a success. Not a huge crowd, but a diverse crowd, and it appeared everyone enjoyed the activities.

I never cease to be amazed at the skills of Jonathan Austin. He is more than a juggler. Multiple magic tricks, a risk taker juggling batons of fire, all incorporated with the riding of a unicycle too. 

He is in constant motion, in constant verbal interaction with the audience, and constantly attuned to himself. Jonathan’s timing is unequaled. 

The diversity of his multiple skills is impressive. Yet, those skills mean nothing without timing. And there is another critical piece in his hour long performance—Mr. Austin quickly learns his audience.

What might preachers, their staffs, and church leaders learn from a Jonathan The Juggler performance?

Here is a sampling of Mr. Austin’s critical skills: 

• He takes risks.
• No physical or mental energy is wasted, every movement, every thought has a purpose. 
• He immediately connects with the audience, without any hesitation he learns names when the show needs participants.
• He knows his skills, but Mr. Austin isn’t afraid to learn new skills to keep his performances fresh.
• He works at timing, and he never fails to make that point with the audience and anyone selected to participate.

Timing is critical in life too.

Preachers, their staffs,  and church leaders have no time to continue to misjudge the urgent need to reconnect with their congregations. To do so is like misjudging the timing in juggling three flaming batons.

Many factors impact the development of a successful college football team. Recruitment of players is one of those critical pieces. If all of the fluff was tossed aside in the recruitment of a player, the most decisive element that a coach offers is building a relationship with that recruit.

The same holds true for preachers. 

Preachers must be able to build relationships with their congregation, not just a favored few—all.

My non-theological reading of the Bible recalls that Jesus worked to build relationships with all. Yes, that is tough duty, but necessary duty.

In truth the pandemic provided a perfect opportunity for preachers to do this. Investing time to build relationships across a congregation is just as important as using technology to reach those same members. 

Preachers, their staffs, and church leaders who ignore this disconnect will continue to see challenging times ahead. 

Congregations recognize this disconnect. 

For months, they have been in its quiet turmoil. And in truth, that turmoil is impacted by a divisive disconnect in America too.

Deep in the hearts of some members, they are thinking—if the leadership in this church can’t reach out and help me in meeting my needs, now might be my time to bail out. Maybe, I need a new church.

During the pandemic for lots of different reasons, churches have already lost members. A college football coach knows that losing streaks aren’t helpful to his tenure. Preachers and their staffs need to recognize that losing members, no matter their tenure in the church isn’t a good path.

John 14:27 states:  “Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

When I think about church, my heart is troubled, and my heart is afraid. 

Maybe its just me, but I believe that disconnect in churches is very real. 

And the truth is simply this—preachers and their staffs must roll up their sleeves and find the path to reconnect with their congregations.

This is urgent. 

Time isn’t on your side.

And remember, even God knows—“It’s the congregation, stupid.”

Pray.

On Sunday, October 17, our friend Joanne Spotts, sent me a message— Betty Lynn, the actress who portrayed Thelma Lou on the Andy Griffith Show, had passed away. Miss Lynn was 95. Interestingly, she died in Andy Griffith’s hometown, Mt. Airy, North Carolina.

Miss Lynn appeared in twenty-six episodes of the Andy Griffith Show, and in those appearances she quickly became Deputy Barney Fife’s girlfriend. 

Somehow, someway Thelma Lou survived all of Barney’s miscues during their relationship. This included his phone call flirtations with the invisible waitress at the diner, Juanita, and the “fun girls” who occasionally disrupted the work and social lives of both Barney and Sheriff Taylor.

From Kansas City, Missouri, Miss Lynn by age five was already singing. Her mother’s gifts as a singer and musician were a steady influence, and public performances in a variety of settings gave Miss Lynn early experience and confidence.

By eighteen, Miss Lynn was part of USO shows entertaining and visiting troops overseas during World War II. After this obligation, she returned home and worked in radio. Those radio script experiences in Kansas City eventually nudged her to Broadway.  There she had  assorted roles in a variety of productions including Oklahoma. 

By chance in those Broadway settings, she caught the eye of a studio executive and was signed to a contract with 20th Century Fox. Miss Lynn appeared in movies, but she gradually found her most steady work with the emergence of television shows. 

She was a skilled actress whose television assignments showcased Miss Lynn’s range of versatility in portraying the characters she was cast to play. But, it was her work on the Andy Griffith Show that put her in the spotlight.

As a longtime fan of the Andy Griffith Show, I have always admired the work of Ruth Burch, the casting director.  It seems that Miss Burch and the production staff for the show were very skilled at finding the right actors and actresses. Betty Lynn was ideally cast as Thelma Lou.

No matter the scripts developed by the writers, or the coaching of the directors, Miss Lynn always delivered the right Thelma Lou for an episode or scene.

And perhaps that is an overlooked part of the chemistry of the show’s success—the actresses. These very gifted women in their own unique way really made Andy, Barney, and Opie look good.

Thelma Lou in particular had lots of emotional territory to cover in her relationship with Barney. She could be sweet and kind, but when needed, Thelma Lou could keep him in line, and don’t you think Barney didn’t know it.

When Barney purchases his first used car, he takes Andy, Aunt Bee, Opie, Gomer, and Thelma Lou for a Sunday afternoon drive. The camera shot shows the cast scrunched in the car talking and taking in the local scenery. They are a happy bunch, until the car starts to reveal its flaws.

At one point, the center part of the steering column starts to protrude out of the steering wheel. As it moves toward Barney, his eyes are about to pop of his head, and then Thelma Lou, who is sitting beside him sees what is happening. 

Her reaction is priceless. She shouts “Barneee!” and recoils in fear. Betty Lynn’s facial expressions for these few seconds are flawless.  No doubt she knew the character she portrayed, and no doubt Miss Lynn knew her craft.

Curious as to whether he could advance his career beyond a weekly television show, Don Knotts, who portrayed Barney, left his role as Deputy Fife to pursue acting in movies. That departure never allowed Thelma Lou and Barney to marry. Although years after Knotts left the show, a reunion special was written and produced. In that production, Barney and Thelma Lou are finally married. However, in real life, Miss Lynn, never married.

Back in 2006, Miss Lynn retired from her work in Hollywood. She made a bold move and relocated to Mt. Airy, North Carolina. This is the town where the show’s star, Andy Griffith, was born and raised.

It appears that Miss Lynn’s personality was a good fit for the town. Over the years, Mt. Airy has capitalized on Griffith’s fame. To her credit, Miss Lynn wasn’t reclusive with this change in scenery. She opted to immerse herself and Thelma Lou into the local events honoring the show. Fans, knowing they might have a chance to meet Miss Lynn, didn’t shy from making the trek to Mt. Airy.

Ron Howard, who played Sheriff Taylor’s son, Opie, on The Andy Griffith Show said this about Betty Lynn:  “She brightened every scene she was in and every shooting day she was on set. I saw her last a few years ago where she still lit up the room with her positivity. It was great to have known and worked with her. She truly was 95 years young.”

For many years, I have developed a great deal of respect for all of the talented people who were responsible for creating and developing The Andy Griffith Show. Without question, the show was a unique mixture of comedy with the capacity to teach good lessons for children while reminding adults how we ‘ought to behave.’

Ron Howard wrote about Betty Lynn’s positivity, and how she lit up a room. I believe the attributes of the The Andy Griffith Show lit up many hearts with its positivity. Lord knows, in the shambles of our divided America, our hearts could use a dose of the show’s gentle positive wisdom. 

Thanks Betty Lynn for making us laugh.

Despite his shortcomings, Barney was lucky that you stood by him.

Clearly, your positive attitude enhanced your skills as an actress, but your positivity also impacted the strangers you encountered along the way. You brightened their lives, and for your patience, I know they will never forget you.

When you see Barney up in heaven, make him drive you over to Mt. Pilot for a Chinese dinner.

Articles from Wikipedia and the New York Times were researched for this piece.

On Friday, October 1 in the cover of dawn darkness, I launched the attack at the edge of the church’s Bicentennial Garden. 

A nest of in ground yellow jackets  had been making their presence known to  preschool students and other pedestrians who shuffled along the sidewalk that fronts the garden. 

On the previous afternoon, my reconnaissance had located the hideout for the swarming stingers. This morning, as I sprayed the fortress with the recommended insecticide—no yellow jackets emerged.

Next, I staged Trinity Hall for our weekly collection of food in support of two pantries. Then I went back home for breakfast. 

When I returned to church, I was focused on final preparations for a 2 p.m. funeral. 

Funerals do something to a church staff. In their own quiet way, funerals add a layer of stress in the pursuit of perfection for the grieving family. A checklist runs through the staff’s minds making sure that no details are overlooked.

By noon, I was ready to head back home to get cleaned up and make my attire more presentable. Just as I was leaving the Stuart Hall Road parking lot, I heard this loud rumbling roar coming from the Rock Creek Road parking lot.

I knew one of our members, Bob Argabright, was coming by to pickup the step van for a Saturday morning project at Oak Grove-Bellemeade Elementary School. I sensed that never heard before sound had come from the starting up of the van.

Sure enough, when I circled back around to the Rock Creek lot, Bob had returned and parked the van. Bob confirmed the sound had come from the van. He guessed something wasn’t right with the exhaust system. We surmised the van shouldn’t be driven until we could have a mechanic determine its ailment.

Our other church van was available, so Bob took it for Saturday.

Late on Friday afternoon, I checked with our neighborhood mechanic, David, at the Mobil station down the street from the church. He suggested that I crawl under the van to determine if the catalytic converter was still in place. David’s experiences told him that the loud roar might be attributed to a stolen catalytic converter.

So early Saturday morning, I crawled under the van. I found a gap in the exhaust system of about two feet. The catalytic converter had been cut out with the precision of a surgeon.

I gathered information about the van and reported the theft to our  community officer in our county’s police department. Officer Phillips filed the report, and then followed back up with me.

Officer Phillips communicated that the police department believes they need state legislative assistance to combat this epidemic increase in catalytic converter theft. 

Currently, metal salvagers are not required to report when a person shows up to sell a trunk load of stolen catalytic converters. This is unlike requirements for pawn shop operators who are required to report their purchases.

 Also, catalytic converters do not have a manufacturer’s serial number. This prevents law officers from effectively tracking the  stolen converter back to the rightful owner. You can wager your last penny that thieves know these loopholes, and every thief also knows the precious metals in the converters are very valuable.

During my ten years of work at our church, this is the third theft we have worked through related to metals. The first was copper gutters, followed by a large brass coupling cut out of the controls for the landscaping sprinkler system.

I wonder what type of person/s comes out under the cover of darkness and steals from a church? What pushes a person to steal in the first place? Is the individual desperate for cash? Does the individual have an addiction problem?  Is  a family member in distress?

In 1957, the words: “In God We Trust”  were printed on paper currency in America for the first time. I’d be curious to know if the gutters, coupling, and converter thieves have any concept of trusting God in their daily living? Additionally, I’d be interested to learn if attending church was ever a part of their lifestyle?

We have made arrangements for the van to be repaired. But, there are no preventative techniques that could keep the same theft from happening again.

I guess I’ll leave that for God to work on. Maybe he can wear down the conscience of the catalytic converter stealer.

As I have written previously, during the pandemic once every two weeks, we have a Zoom call with a dear group of college friends. 

Generally, we gather on Sunday afternoons at five. Without too many absences, Steve, Dan, Steve, Doug, Butch, plus spouses and an occasional pet join the calls.

My wife and I have enjoyed our hour long calls. This is a good way for us to stay in touch and learn how we are doing in the madness of the pandemic. 

While we hear about ailments, house projects, travel, grandchildren, and children, for me I’m selfishly present for the mental health of laughter. No matter how serious the conversation can turn, we have an abundance of self-deprecating humor. I usually feel better after that Zoom call.

On Sunday, September fifth, Dan and his wife, Judy, gave us a blow by blow account of dealing with an unwanted guest in their basement—a squirrel.

It seems to me that many people have stories about squirrel intrusions.

During Christmas celebrations where my wife’s parents lived in Connecticut, I remember multiple times my father-in-law furiously banging on the kitchen window. He was attempting to chase off an acrobatic squirrel that landed on a bird feeder.

Sometimes, in the drought of a hot summer, squirrels have ravaged our tomatoes for the moisture in them.

One spring, two squirrels found their way into our attic. Our son and I put on pants, long sleeved shirts, gloves, hats, and declared war. We were armed with pump action super soaker water guns. I had filled their holding tanks with ammonia. 

We were closed up in the attic. We made lots of noise and poking with long poles to rouse up the squirrels. Sure enough, they didn’t like the disturbance. Without any hesitation, we soaked the squirrels with the ammonia. They didn’t like our hospitality. 

Another time when I was out of town, a squirrel fell down the chimney into our fireplace. Luckily, the wire mesh and glass doors contained him. He croaked a couple of days later.

Once I saw firsthand the damage a squirrel can do in a house. A squirrel entered an elderly neighbor’s home via the chimney. She was away visiting family. That squirrel tore the place up.

For our college friends, they were lucky. Dan had gone into the workout room of their basement. As he entered the room, Dan caught a glimpse of something gray moving. 

At first, Dan thought it was their cat, Omar. But, he reasoned the door was closed, no way Omar could have entered the workout room, and next that gray flash was not Omar’s coloring. 

Dan has his private pilot’s license, plus he is certified to train people to fly, so his eyes were not playing tricks on him. As he surveyed the room again, Dan saw the head of a squirrel pop up from behind a pillow on the couch. 

Now the fun started.

Like all good husbands, he quickly called in reinforcements—his wife, Judy. Not wanting the squirrel to scamper up one of her legs, Judy came down wearing a dress and knee high rain boots.

All they had to do was shoo the squirrel through a door that empties into the backyard. Of course, the squirrel was having none of this. He countered every containment move with a more clever move. 

Perspiring and frustrated, Dan put out an SOS call for two of his neighbors to assist. They showed up with a fishing net, another type of netting, and adolescent humor. Noticing Judy’s attire, one neighbor commented she looked like a stripper. Luckily,  Judy didn’t clobber him.

So, now four frazzled adults are after this wacky squirrel whose nervous digestive track is dropping poop balls around the room. After more sweaty minutes and possibly lots of swearing, the squirrel makes the wrong move. Dan with help is able to pin him so that a thin board can be slid behind him for containment.

With more luck, they get him out of the basement into the backyard. The panting and the perspiration slow down.

The next day, the carpet and upholstery cleaners arrive. Dan determines that his chimney cap was worn and failed. The squirrel fell down the chimney into the basement where a wood stove had once connected to the chimney. The squirrel had chewed through the plastic lid covering the connection hole.

The chimney cap has been replaced, and with sheet metal, Dan formed a stronger cover for the previous stove connection in the wall.

Nothing like the chaos of a squirrel to turn a house upside down.

Perhaps, you know the Tom Hanks’ movie Castaway. Early in the film, Hanks portraying FedEx employee, Chuck Noland, is a passenger on one of the company’s huge cargo planes. On this trip, the plane encounters a monstrous storm over the ocean. The plane despite the crew’s efforts can’t handle the stress of the weather. Chaos ensues as the plane crashes into the ocean. Chuck Noland is the only survivor. His life is turned upside down. No one knows he survived the crash.

In our world, people experience chaos everyday, their lives are turned upside down.

Recent examples are Afghanistan, Haitian earthquake, Hurricane Ida, wildfires out West, and of course our on-going saga with COVID-19. 

At times, I wonder how much more chaos can people withstand?

And then I think, historically, chaos has existed in this old world since it was hurled together. 

Perhaps, we have become numb to chaos. We think it is normal for lives to be turned upside, lost forever, or wearied to the point that they can’t muster a comeback.

Think about how many people feel like that squirrel— trapped by their own regrettable split second decisions, or caught in vicious societal cycles that we as a country have failed to change.

Yet, as dismal as the results of the chaos appear, I will continue to hold on to hope.

Here’s why.

In our  Sunday Zoom gathering, I heard two examples of love that gave hope.

Butch, who was my college roommate, is also by training a pastor. He shared how a difficult conversation with a church member helped the individual to change. Over a period of time, and with help, this person made needed adjustments in a number of daily routines. Life is now better for this individual.

Dan, the squirrel chaser, talked about his role on a foundation that secures used musical instruments for school students. The work of the foundation reduces the financial burdens for families in trying to provide the instrument.

I’ll take those rays of hope in the chaos of daily troubling headlines.

When the world is really bad, I will confess I am quick to wonder where is God in this mess?  

Well, God is in the hearts of the people who will respond or have responded to Afghanistan, Haiti, Ida, wildfires, and COVID-19.

God is in the hearts of individuals who work to help those who made terrible life altering decisions, as well as those who are working to breakdown our malignant societal cycles.

And in a crazy way, God was at work with the squirrel trapped in the basement room. Dan and Judy have built relationships with neighbors. Dan knew he could make a call and help would arrive.

Maybe, that is how God thinks. 

Maybe, he knows in chaos, he can make some calls, and nudge some hearts into action.

Maybe, the real question is this—will you, me, we, take his call to assist when chaos overwhelms a person?  

Ok, I’ll make the confession early. 

I have been a fan of the Beach Boys for a long, long, long, time.

Writer Dave Barry talks about “brain sludge.” Mr. Barry defines “brain sludge” as useless information that accumulates in the brains of men. 

For many, many, many years, I have stored lots of “brain sludge” in my old noggin about the Beach Boys. That is why my Beach Boys’ “brain sludge” was excited to learn that Capitol Records on August 27, 2021 released the box set of recordings:  The Beach Boys Feel Flows The Sunflower and Surf’s Up Sessions 1969-1971.

In 1961, the Beach Boys started their fire. Their early sound was unmistakeable—harmonies influenced by the Four Freshmen and guitar licks like Chuck Berry. Plus, they had a secret weapon—Brian Wilson. Brian was the chief crafter of their songs, their sound, their production. 

People in the know have called Brian a genius, but I have always loved his insight about that label:  “I’m not a genius, I’m just a hardworking guy.”

From 1961-1967, Brian was a hard worker. He could not be stopped. The Beach Boys records landed in the top ten on record charts, and they filled concert halls around the world. 

But, by 1967, that success on the record charts came to an end. Surfer girls, woodies, and surfboards from sunny California and the Pacific coastline were dead in the water, lost to the undertow in a shift of the pop music paradigm.

Yes, the Beach Boys continued to meet their recording obligations for Capitol Records, but there were no huge hits. The group survived by touring in England and Europe where they were still held in high esteem.

From 1967-1969, Brian’s involvement with the band in recording sessions dropped a bit. 

Interestingly during this time for the other members of the Beach Boys, hanging around Brian all those years in recording sessions had rubbed off. Brothers Carl and Dennis Wilson, Alan Jardine, Bruce Johnston, and the Wilson’s cousin, Mike Love started to show their songwriting and production capabilities.

By 1969, their recording obligations with Capitol records were over. The band signed a new contract with Reprise Records part of Warner Brothers. This deal would allow the band to carry the group’s own Brother Records logo. With this new agreement, the band started to work on their first album for Reprise.

That album was titled Sunflower, and this recording captured a band in harmony working as brothers and friends. Sunflower features song contributions from every member including drummer Dennis Wilson who delivers four compelling songs. 

On Sunflower, the range of diversity in the compositions is staggering.  The pure lead vocals, the stunning harmonies are intact, but a song like “It’s About Time” might leave a listener thinking—wow I had no idea that the Beach Boys could write and play a song like this. 

Sunflower was critically acclaimed, but it flopped on the charts. I would think in some ways the group might have been crushed. But, they kept pushing, and despite this set back, an unknown catalyst, a visionary, Jack Rieley entered their world. 

From late 1970 until 1973, Jack Rieley managed the Beach Boys. He changed their image, their direction. Jack Rieley was a risk taker, and this makeover worked. Gone were the late 60s matching stage attire suits, their hair was longer, and beards covered their once boyish faces. 

Jack Rieley most likely had some P.T. Barnum in his blood booking the group to play at unheard of places like the Big Sur Folk Festival, Carnegie Hall, peace rallies,  Bill Graham’s Fillmore East, and college campuses. Rieley and representatives from Reprise Records found an audience for the band’s evolving new sound on progressive FM radio stations.

This Jack Rieley energy created traction. People started to take notice again, and the band readied their second album for Reprise— Surf’s Up. If hopeful fans believed the title signaled a return to the group’s early foundation, they were to be disappointed. 

Surf’s Up had themes of ecology, health, love, social injustice, and more. If Sunflower quietly showcased Dennis Wilson, then Surf’s Up unveiled the the skills of the youngest Wilson brother, Carl.

On the sales charts, Surf’s Up had momentum reaching #29 at the peak of its activity. In comparison, the slighted Sunflower charted no higher than #151.

While Jack Rieley worked to thrust the band back into the public eye, there was another critical person working in the background with the Beach Boys— recording engineer, Stephen Desper. 

Mr. Desper must have had the patience of Job working with band members. Along with that patience, I sense Mr. Desper was blessed with keen hearing. Additionally, in combination with his skills sets as an engineer, he used the technology of the day to capture these recording sessions with an unsurpassed quality and richness.

 It is a credit to Mr. Desper that he was able to mix down Sunflower and Surf’s Up into their final editions. Because as the Feel Flows box set reveals, the Beach Boys worked through many different versions and takes of these songs. 

This box set might not be for the average fan. It is built upon five cds worth of music. The project was painstakingly compiled by the superb work of recording engineer Mark Linett and archivist Alan Boyd. 

 They had the responsibility of going back into the Beach Boys’ vaults and listening to miles and miles of tape. Mr. Linett and Mr. Boyd are a good team as they capture with this set of recordings a very special time in the history of the Beach Boys.

At the very least, if you love music, you owe it to your ears to listen to the original Sunflower and Surf’s Up albums. I believe your ears will be touched for lots of different reasons. But, I also hope that your ears might just think—whoa, these Beach Boys were really good at their craft.

And for me in that good, I always fall back to one Beach Boy, Carl Wilson. I’m sure you had your favorite Beatle, by comparison Carl Wilson was my favorite Beach Boy.

The box set is named after his stunning song, “Feel Flows” from the Surf’s Up album. Not only did Jack Rieley help to steer the band back to survival, he also was a lyric writer. He provided the lyrics for an assortment of songs during this era including “Feel Flows.” 

But, if you look at the history of the Beach Boys from Brian’s first breakdown and everything good and bad that the band lived through there was always the youngest band member, Carl holding them together.

Carl’s voice was a gift from God. Many times in my life his angelic  voice has made my eyes tear up. 

A masterful guitarist,  Carl lead the band with their concert performances, and he often was the final decision maker in the mix downs and inclusion of songs for each album. Both Sunflower and Surf’s Up are blessed by his work with his bandmates and Stephen Desper.

To cite a favorite recording or moment from this boxed set is impossible for me. But, for one minute and fifty eight seconds, I have never heard a song like Sunflower’s “This Whole World” with its “ah oom dop didits” and lead vocals shared by Carl and Brian.

And here is another fact worth considering, during this time frame, the Beach Boys were very good in concert. Numerous live recordings are contained here, but a 1973 performance of the Brian Wilson/Van Dyke Parks’ song “Surf’s Up” is remarkable.

By now, you know me to be a low pressure writer.  But, I’ll make one more gentle plea, a good-natured nudge on behalf of your your soul—go listen to Sunflower and Surf’s Up, or even the entire box set.

Here’s why you should consider a listen—despite my biased Beach Boys’ “brain sludge,” my old soul believes your soul will feel the love in these songs.

And right now in this old world, we all need to feel some love.

“ah oom dop didit”

Over the last few weeks, the following news headlines have caught my attention:

• Vancouver Island, Canada as reported by CTV:  Mounties in British Columbia release image of man wanted for urinating on Dairy Queen counter after mask dispute

• Tuscon, Arizona as reported by the Washington Post:  A school ordered a student to quarantine. His dad and two men confronted the principal with zip ties, official says.

• Flushing Meadows, New York home of the US Open tennis tournament as reported by the Daily Skimm:  American star tennis player, Sloane Stephens, who is black, opened up about the over 2,000 threatening and racist messages she’s received since losing in this year’s US Open.

• Gulfport, Mississippi as reported by Bill Chappell for NPR:  A Man Who Accosted A TV Reporter Covering Hurricane Ida Faces Assault Charges

• Across America as reported by Carolyn Thompson for the Associated Press:  As School Board Meetings Get Hostile, Some Members Are Calling It Quits

For me, these headlines are confirmation that no matter where we live— respect is missing in action. Our inability to respect people who serve our public in any capacity is another indication of the unraveling of our basic human decency.

The people in the headlines who encountered these disrespectful behaviors, must feel exactly like comedian, Rodney Dangerfield’s famous line:  “I want to tell you, I get no respect.”

Just like I do not understand how a terrorist can strap on a suicide bomb, I do not understand how a customer can publicly urinate in a store because personnel asked him to put on a mask.

My wife and I raised three children. Yes, there were times when we did not agree with decisions made by teachers, coaches, and school administrators. However, we never were disrespectful, combative,  or threatening in those situations. 

What was this parent thinking in Arizona? The school is trying to protect the health of your son, and your response is ok principal, my friends and I are going to punish you by restraining you in zip ties—unbelievable.

Without question, technology can be useful. But, when we use our technology to wound a human being with over 2,000 hateful, racist, threatening comments because Sloane Stephens lost a tennis match—this is beyond wrong— it is sickening. And the sad thing about these incidents is the brazen cowards who do this believe what they are doing is fine.

Hurricane Ida has just pounded the Gulf Coast. A reporter is giving an update for a local television station. The reporter and the crew are doing a live broadcast. Out of the blue, a guy from Ohio in a pickup truck stops. He approaches the reporter and starts yapping about how the news is reported. This man keeps yapping, and the reporter and his crew stop the live broadcast because of this misguided intruder.

In your news feeds, if you have not read Associated Press reporter, Carolyn Thompson’s story, about how school board members across America are being treated in public meetings, I encourage you to find the piece and read it. Truthfully, I’m not surprised at her findings, but reading these incidents touched me because I served on our county’s school board for fourteen months.

In my work as a teacher, assistant principal, principal, and school board member, I had some bad days—days when my thinking could have been better. In those situations, I deserved criticism. However, in all those years of service, I can recall only a handful of times when I was scorched by another person’s disrespect.

Thanks to my college roommate, I’m currently reading The Called Shot. This book is about the 1932 major league baseball season.

The first chapter focuses on Rogers Hornsby, one of the best players of that era. After the death of his father, Hornsby’s mother moved her family to Ft. Worth, Texas. 

Ft. Worth at the time was a tough cattle town. Work was found in stockyards and slaughterhouses. Author Thomas Wolf describes Ft. Worth as a town with “pervasive wickedness.”

A Baptist minister, Frank Norris, nicknamed the “Texas Cyclone” was determined to reform this den of sin. Preacher Norris took a stand against this lifestyle. For taking his stand, this is how the preacher was treated: February 4, 1912, arsonist destroyed his church, one month later, his parsonage was burned down. (The Called Shot, Wolf, page 16)

America can’t deny that our past, our present, and probably our future is full of stories like the preacher experienced.

Why?

Well, that’s like trying to answer a multiple choice question.

Yet, I believe one of the answers is we have lost the internal capacity to respect ourselves. 

Another possibility is that people who are prone to disrespect others might just have a long history of being disrespected in their walk through life.

And there is one more, as we were growing up, being raised, what were we taught about respect? How was respect modeled by the adults in the home?

And here is another one to ponder, churches, houses of worship. 

For many years, people attended church searching for some type of spiritual, emotional nourishment. On Sunday mornings in sanctuaries, preachers could remind us to be kind, loving, caring, respectful. 

That church, the bedrock of community, with its capacity to touch stubborn souls like mine, is now rapidly fading into the landscape of our rearview mirrors.

A few days ago, I stumbled upon this line of scripture from 1 Peter 3:8:  “Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate, and humble.”

Good advice, but how do you sell it to people who think like this headline:  A Teen Called For Masks In School After His Grandma Died Of COVID— Adults Mocked Him. (NPR 9/10/21)

Grady Knox, a high school student in Rutherford County, Tennessee, had to stop his speech at a school board meeting. Knox, whose grandmother was a former teacher, died from COVID-19. He was urging the school board to implement wearing masks in the school system. 

Adults in the audience “mocked, jeered, heckled, and laughed” at his remarks. (Bill Chappell NPR)

That story only makes me worry more about America. 

And here is what really troubles me.

We all know in our hearts that the disrespect in each of those headlines is wrong, horribly, horribly wrong, and yet the wrong in those headlines continues to rumble across America.

What has and is happening to us?

It is clear to me that disrespect is driving a wedge of separation deeper into our American hearts.

Somehow, America must reasonably find ways to counter this unhealthy separation.

To do this, Americans must find courage in our like-minded silence.

We must nudge ourselves out of our fearful silence.

And the only way to do this is to humbly share our compassion and love with those who have lost the capacity to respect.

Respect can’t continue to be missing in action.

If we are not careful, then America could be missing in action.

Despite all of our imperfections, do we really want our country to become a vanishing speck in the rearview mirror of the world because of our inability to respect and love one another?

I want to believe that deep inside our stubborn, inconsiderate hearts, we know better.

Without question, COVID-19 and its variant, continue to turn our world upside down. This pandemic has scarred us in ways never imagined.

Longstanding public, nonprofit, and private institutions have been repeatedly punched by COVID-19. Particularly, churches and school systems have been required to counter those multiple hits. For church and school leaders, formulating and implementing a response is challenging work. 

Often in their careers, church and school leaders deal with the unexpected. Yet, I doubt responding to a pandemic was in their preparation to serve the public. From my experiences in schools and a church, the key pivot factor for leaders is always people. 

Schools and churches are people centered. But sometimes,  people are the biggest challenge for pastors and school leaders. Why? No matter the decision— it is impossible to please everyone.

Our church is in the midst of a renovation project. Early on, a large dumpster was placed outside our preschool. 

After an outdoor worship service, one church member quipped— we should put a sign on the dumpster—Suggestion Box. I laughed, and thought— bet our congregation could fill it up. But, then I wondered, how are pastors and school leaders equipped to take suggestions?

Daily, these leaders cull through ship loads of information and suggestions from staff. Communicating and implementing a practical user friendly response can be challenging.

Communication, appears simple, but it’s not. COVID-19 is not user friendly. 

 Thanks to the whims of the virus, a carefully thought out plan for Sunday or Monday can change in a blink.  If we survive this madness, I’m certain post pandemic studies of church and school leaders will reveal sleep deprivation and increased intake of antacids were significant.

Sleep deprivation and heartburn are not limited to leaders. Congregations, students, parents, and teachers aren’t immune from these health concerns. On the surface, these people might appear fine, but a significant undertow is at work—morale.

Morale can’t be overlooked by leaders. 

 “Toughest year of my career” is what a high school teacher told me after a June graduation. I wonder how many other teachers felt the same?

Comparably, if pastors were polled, I believe we would hear—“my toughest year as a pastor.”

If it was a tough year for teachers and pastors, think what the year was like for students, parents, and congregations. Mental health and morale wears on the people being served by churches and schools too.

During the pandemic, the infrastructure of technology has helped churches and schools reach their communities. However, technology isn’t a substitute for that most critical infrastructure—human relationships.

We should not be surprised that student test scores from  Virginia’s Standards of Learning are down. Education researchers have documented the significance of the instructional relationship that a teacher develops with a student. Building those relationships within the confines of a computer screen is difficult.

Additionally, no one should be surprised that churches continue to struggle to meet needs of congregations. No matter the quality of an on-line worship service, congregations like students need human interaction. 

So do pastors and school leaders need to have suggestion boxes installed in their buildings? Probably not. 

However, these leaders would be wise to assess their listening skills. In assessing their skills, they should also be asking what mechanisms are in place for congregations, students, parents, and teachers to be heard.

The first step in rebuilding and developing relationships is taking the time to listen. 

Church and school leaders might be surprised with their take aways from interacting with the people they serve. Those take aways can be very valuable with this asking—“don’t tell me what I want to hear, tell me what I need to hear.”

Church and school leaders, listening is an opportunity to learn.  Failure to listen reduces transparency and increases distrust. 

With the uncertainty of COVID-19 still lingering, no leader can afford not to listen.

The headline in the August 27 edition of the Richmond Times-Dispatch stung me:  League weighs move of N.C. HQ. 

Translation— new Atlantic Coast Conference Commissioner, Jim Phillips, has authorized a study to determine if Greensboro, North Carolina is worthy to continue as headquarters for the conference.

Since the league’s founding in 1953, Greensboro has been the headquarters. During those 68 years, the original founding universities developed a league that became famous for its college basketball. Eventually, the conference’s tournament became just as prominent with other athletic conferences copying its template.

Much has changed since the founding of the conference. Without question, money has driven the conference to expand. Logical geography hasn’t been a part of inducting new schools into the league. Money, market share, and visibility have even pushed the annual tournament to other cities considered to be more glamorous than Greensboro.

With permission, Commissioner Phillips contracted with two consulting teams to conduct what he calls “a holistic and transparent review” of the conference. A study like this cost lots of pennies, and I wonder if included in the review is an assessment to determine if Commissioner Phillips is of sound mind?

Commissioner Phillips certainly presents himself well in sound bytes and print interviews. But perhaps, adjusting to North Carolina’s summer conspirators of heat, humidity, and dew point, or a sip of some unfiltered high octane moonshine warped his thinking.

I grew up in Burlington. I did not graduate from an ACC school. But, from the first basketball shot I took on the dirt court in my backyard, the league’s teams, players, and coaches never left my heart.

Yes, I agree this is a bold move by the commissioner. It is wise to assess daily operations, assets, and to peer into the future. But, suggesting that Greensboro might not be the best fit for future growth is irresponsible. I guess Bentonville, Arkansas hasn’t been a good fit for Walmart.

Change is always a challenge. No one wants to be pushed out of his/her comfort zone. And while the goal might be to keep these assessments neutral from an emotional stand point, that isn’t possible. Why? People. 

Since 1953, the people of Greensboro have put their hearts and souls into collaboratively constructing with conference leaders a successful league. That history, legacy, hospitality, work ethic,  and support ought to count for something. If these attributes are not taken into fair consideration with the evaluation teams, then their findings will be pointless.

Instead of focusing these assessments on media opportunities, alignment with Fortune companies, corporate sponsorships, branding, and making more money, why not use the studies to help solve challenges the league faces? 

For example, how could the medical schools in the league conduct research to reduce injuries for all athletes? How might athletic directors find ways to reduce the impact of powerful alumni? How could university leaders work to insure that coaches apply integrity and honor in recruiting and developing relationships with student athletes? How can travel costs be reduced?

Perhaps Commissioner Phillips knows of the Wieners Circle, a hotdog stand, in Chicago’s Lincoln Park neighborhood.  While their charbroiled hot dogs are delicious, customers also seem to enjoy the sometimes snarky attitude of their employees, and the profane quirkiness of the messages on the restaurant’s marquee.

What does the Wieners Circle have to do with the ACC?

Truthfully, nothing, except for one critical ingredient—people.

Since 1983, despite snarky employees, and a wacky marquee, people keep coming back to the Wieners Circle—why?

 The answer is grounded in their location, a quality product, and management that understands the pulse of the people they serve.

Comparably, Greensboro is an ideal geographic location, the city offers quality support, and without question the city’s intelligent, visionary, and loyal people have sustained the ACC through a wide range of challenges.

In our fast paced, impatient world, loyalty is often overlooked. In this process, Greensboro’s loyalty can’t be overlooked.

Commissioner Phillips, I hope your heart understands loyalty.

If you need any help in grasping loyalty, you might consider consulting with Bass, Campbell, Fife, Lawson, Pyle, and Taylor in Mt. Airy. They know quite a bit about loyalty.

Commissioner Phillips, leaders are supposed to look forward into the future. It is tough, necessary work.

In doing this work, it is also necessary to understand the heart, the pulse of Greensboro. Greensboro’s heart has always been loyal to the ACC.

The real question is whether your heart believes in Greensboro’s loyalty.