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The Departed Guest
Don left the below message, along with some personal words as a thank you for hospitality on the dresser of our guest room.   For all who have been blessed to have Brother Don McCord in your home as a guest know that this preacher has got to be one of the most friendliest, kindest and well-mannered, in our brotherhood.  It has been mine and Earl's privilege to have known him and his sweet, lovely wife since our teen-age years.  We were truly blessed with the privilege of having him in our home.  ~ Earl & Jean Roe    Earlroe@tyler.net

The Departed Guest
This little room has been a great delight.
I leave it now and start upon my way.
For duty calls and when comes shades of night,
I shall be resting many miles away.
But, He for Whom you loved and honored me
and gave me shelter in your happy home,
Shall still remain to bless and comfort you.
An Unseen Guest still occupies this room.
(Author Unknown)

The Roadrunner Preacher
During the gospel meeting with Don McCord in June, 1998 here in Tyler, Texas, Don stayed in the home of Terry & Becky Baze the first half of the week, and with Earl and Jean Roe the second half. Both households have a daily morning excercise program of walking two miles.  So, on Monday morning, around 6:30 AM, Terry invites Don to go with him to walk in their neighborhood. They hardly get out to the road when the little "spunky" 72 year old preacher takes off like a "road-runner", leaving Terry huffing and puffing trying to keep up with him. Terry is a pretty fast walker, but after completing the two miles, and arriving back at the house, Terry heads for his bedroom dripping wet with sweat, fells down across the bed and said, "Becky, tomorrow you're going with him!" Becky said she did go the next morning, but so did Terry.

Now, for Earl.....on Wednesday night, Don was going to move over to the Roes. However, after services Wednesday night, Glenn Ballard had invited Don to go to Palestine to tape a serman for Sunday's radio program as a guest speaker. This was about 10 PM, so he was given a housekey to the Roe's house, therefore, they didn't know that it was between 1 and 2 AM before he got back. So, Earl and Jean set the alarm and get up on Thursday morning around 6 AM thinking Don would be up soon also. The coffee was made and breakfast was prepared....Jean started her first cup of coffee...Earl started reading the morning paper, and still Don is not up. Jean starts her second cup of coffee and Earl finishes the paper, goes out to check on things outside, and finally about 7:30 AM, here comes Don all cheerful and bubbly ready to get started on whatever has been planned for him for the day. After Don and Earl finished with breakfast, they started off for the Rudman Trail in Tyler to walk the two-mile path. When they returned, Earl comes in all dripping with sweat and makes the comment to Jean out of Don's hearing, "I know what Terry means now...that little guy don't walk, he runs!"  ~ Author:  Jean Roe  Earlroe@tyler.net






Several years ago, Brother Jerry Dickinson was holding a meeting at the Brookside Church of Christ in Nashville, Tennessee.  At that time, our Saturday evening services were early in the evening  to allow for surrounding congregations to attend and return home before getting too late.
Jerry had mentioned earlier in the meeting that he had always wanted to attend the Grand Ole Opry.  So, tickets were purchased for the 9:30 PM show that Saturday night.  Refreshments were served after services, so we were running a little late to the show.  Jerry wanted to change clothes, so a quick detour was made to the family's townhouse where Jerry was staying.  It wasn't that long ago that I had visited this couple's townhouse, but it was dark and we were in a hurry.  We found it okay, and rushed to the door.  However, the key wouldn't open the door!  I worked on the door, then Jerry worked on it, and finally, the door just sort-of popped open without the use of a key at all.  "That's weird", we thought, but "Great, we're in!"  So, Jerry rushed in and bounded up the stairs.
I began to look around the apartment and noticed that every piece of furniture was new since I had last visited.  The couch, chairs, pictures, table,-----I mean everything----nothing looked familiar.  The pictures on the coffee table caught my eye.  They were of people I didn't know (and I'm related to this family).  The last picture on the coffee table was a family at the beach---not wearing much at all !!!

Uh-oh !!!   In the meantime, Jerry had raced up the stairs and passed a 10 speed bike that he didn't remember seeing earlier that day.  He rounded the corner and opened the bedroom door where he was staying and noticed a waterbed.  Uh-oh !!!

At the exact same instance, both of us realized that we had entered the wrong apartment.   WE HAD OPENED THE RIGHT TOWNHOUSE DOOR, BUT ONE BUILDING AWAY FROM WHERE WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN.  

Both of us screamed the others name, and literally ran as fast as we could out of this neighbor's home.  Now, remember Jerry is on the second floor, and I'm ten feet from the door.  But, somehow Jerry bolted down the stairs, and in the blink of an eye, had beaten me out of the door.  That's the fastest I've ever seen a preacher move.

We kidded each other -- what it would have been like, if we would have had to call the other brethren for bail money that night after being arrested for breaking and entering!   But, the rest of the evening was uneventful.   The only other highlight of the night was listening to Jerry sing along with Grandpa Jones.  Just another adventure when you are "GRAND OLE OPRY BOUND" !

Submitted by:  Tracy Stephens, Brookside Church of Christ, Nashville, TN 

Preachers' Wives
Submit a Story!

   Other Christians
Showing Compassion For Children  11-09-98

Our Story

I Figured It Out, Sis!

Happy Y2K!  01-07-00

Out of the mouths of babes 03-15-01

Writings by Pansy

    Killer Kitty
    Snake Story  04-24-99
    Women Drivers  04-24-99



Submit a Story!


Our Story   (A Story About Earl & Jean Roe)    Pictures
Earl and I first knew each other in the early 1950's only casually.  We didn't see each other for over 45 years.  A cousin of his, Linda Leeeth, whom I had gotten acquainted with when her and her family came to Tulsa, OK. to visit at the 11th St. congregation knew that I had known Earl in my past, and was responsible for us meeting again at the 1996 Texas Labor Day Meeting in Irving, TX.  We began calling, writing and visiting with each other, and in October 1996, he asked me to marry him. I agreed and we made plans for me to retire from my job the end of December, 1996;  he was already retired.  We were married on January 4, 1997.  We were both widowed Christians and we thank God that He blessed our lives with happiness again.  We each have two children and Earl has three grandchildren. Our home is in Tyler, Texas and we attend the New Testament Church of Christ in Tyler.  ~ Author:  Jean Roe    Earlroe@tyler.net


Showing Compassion for the Children
When I was a very small child, our family met in our home in Graham, Texas. A dear brother in Christ, Cleo Fancher, would bring his family from Wichita Falls, Texas now and then to worship with us and help my Dad, Dan Keel, who was the only male member there at that time.

On one such Sunday, after services, Mom sent us kids to the neighborhood grocery store for a loaf of bread. We had a little dog whose name was Vicky; he was just like a member of the family, so he went with us kids everywhere we went. On the way to the grocery store, we were waiting for the signal light to turn green for us to cross the busy main street into Graham, when Vicky spotted another dog across the street, and darted out in front of a car which hit him, knocking him into the air. When he hit the pavement, the impact killed him instantly. Can you imagine what that did to the emotions of all us kids! My oldest sister picked old Vicky up and carried him all the way back home, with all the rest of us kids tagging along crying our hearts out.
When we arrived home, as we were preparing to have a funeral service for Vicky, my Dad got the shovel to dig a hole at the back of our property, us kids got a box to lay Vicky in for his coffin, and Cleo Fancher very seriously officiated the funeral service.
The memory of Brother Cleo's kindness and compassion to a bunch of broken-hearted little kids that day is still touching to me 50 years later.
By: Sue (Keel) McGuire, 11th Street Congregation, Tulsa, OK
While this probably is not truly a unique or a very amusing story,
          it is a very touching one about a really fine Christian man who died several years ago.




I went out the other morning, food in hand, to give my Killer Kitty breakfast.  He is always there, meowing about how he's starving to death and why I am late and he's been waiting for hours. 

Well, that morning he was no where to be seen.  I called and called and my dog helped me look.  But, no Killer.  I kept going back and checking every few minutes for that gentleman.  Finally, I saw his white paw, up under the car.  It was strange that he didn't run right out to eat, same as usual.  I thought maybe he'd been in another fight and had something sore.

'Bout that time, a half grown RAT ran out from under the car, with Killer in hot pursuit and Pansy scrambling for the door.

You didn't think I could move that fast that early in the morning.  You didn't think I could get turned around and up those steps that fast!  Well, honey, it was either that or make a new door in the side of the house.

There stood that Kitty, meowing at me with that RAT hanging out of his mouth.  I told him he was entirely on his own.  He'd get no breakfast from me under the present set of circumstances.  He proceeded to play with that RAT, turning him loose and swatting him around.  Such fun!!

I checked again later and, there he was, that thing still in his mouth, meowing, "Look what I caught."  And I told him he had caught the thing; he could deal with it.

After I went to the door several times, food still in hand, he must have gotten the idea.  The RAT disappeared, not to be seen by me again.  I don't care if he ate him or gave him to the dog, just so he was not in my line of vision anymore.

Next morning, I stopped at the door and told Killer I'd come out and feed him if there was no RAT hanging out of his mouth.  And  - there wasn't.

I've probably set his rat hunting back ten years.  But, he's got to understand that some delicacies must be eaten right where you catch 'em!

If he'd brought back a rattlesnake or a grizzly bear, I might have liked to see that.   But I know what a RAT looks like!

Written by Pansy Hundley , member of the Church of Christ in Allen, TX



At the risk of life and limb, I'm gonna tell you a story about a friend of mine.  I absolutely won't tell her real name.  I know there would be murder and mayhem if I even hinted at who she is.  So, we'll call her Jane.

To put it mildly, this friend does not like snakes of any size, shape, color or ancestry.

One day some little ole bitty snake made the mistake of crawling on her property.  He was probably just passin' through on his way to visit his mother!

Did I tell you this lady owns a shotgun?  (I see you are way ahead of me.)  Yep, that lady ran, got her shotgun, and shot that little ole bitty snake SEVEN times.

Jane then went and called her husband at work, to inform him, no doubt, that she had saved the homestead from that vicious creature.  He told her to hang the snake on the fence and he'd see what kind it was when he got home.

After he arrived home later he went out for "the viewing".   Very shortly thereafter, he came back in the house and asked "Which piece should I look at to tell what kind it is?"  Jane had scattered snake all over the yard.  SEVEN shots from a shotgun, remember?  There was no piece big enough to identify.  I don't know how she found enough to hang on the fence!

If snakes know what's good for them, they'll give her place a wide berth.   Her shotgun is always ready.

Written by Pansy Hundley , member of the Church of Christ in Allen, TX


My young son, Patrick, was driving my car the other day in Plano and got hit in a parking lot.   Bonged it up good and it had to go to the car hospital.

I have rental insurance on my auto policy, so I called the rent-a-car place.  They told me for my $20 per day insurance I could have a subcompact car.  My only question was "Does it have an air conditioner?"  and they said yes.  With the temperatures 98 degrees in the shade, that is an essential consideration.  They even delivered my little purple mini-car.  Suzie calls 'em rubber-band cars when she has rented one on a flying trip home.

That little bitty thing drives very well, but there just isn't enough of it.  If I were run over by an 18-wheeler, I would look like Bugs Bunny, after the fact, flat as the proverbial pancake.

I was wheeling down 78 on Sunday morning, on my way to church.  I had that little thing wound up to 65 MPH without even having to peddle.  Some feller pulled up to a stop sign coming off a side road.  He slowed down, I was watching him and assumed he would stop.  Well, that shows what assuming will get you.  I don't know if he didn't look or couldn't see something that little and purple.  He came out onto that highway, right in front of me.

Well, it is amazing how many thoughts can go through your mind in that split second, when you are about to demolish the car in front of you.

As soon as I really believed that dude was just going to pull on out, I slammed on every brake I could find.  I couldn't remember where the horn was.  And I was thinking "Oh, I'm going to wreck this rent car and my car is already in the hospital getting straightened out.  And I'm not going to be able to stop before I hit him?"  And everything in the front seat and everything in the back seat was flying into the floor board.  And that silly feller in that pickup was still kinda' meandering along, like he was the only person on the whole road.  I finally found the horn, for all the good it did.  If he even looked in his rearview mirror, he probably just wondered why that little purple car was honking at him.  I was so mad.  I wished I was driving a bulldozer.  Giving me heart failure like that.  I shook for thirty minutes.

That car rental feller went all over the car, with me trailing him, to find any dents and scratches already on it.  If I had torn it all to pieces, I hate to think what he would have done.  It only had 385 miles on it when it was delivered into my hands.

We'll just have no further comments about women drivers, thank you very much.   That was a man that pulled out in front of me--and a woman that did not run over him.  So there!

Written by Pansy Hundley , member of the Church of Christ in Allen, TX


I Figured It Out, Sis!

On a recent Sunday morning, my niece and nephew, Joshua and Sarah Goble, were driving home with me from Church services.  They attend services at the Beech Fork Church of Christ in Davella, Kentucky.  They were sitting in the back seat and discussing the communion service.  Joshua is seven years old and Sarah is twelve years old.

During their conversation, Joshua told his sister, "I know why they only have the grape juice and bread on Sunday morning and not on Sunday night and Wednesday night."  "Why?", asked my niece.   My nephew replied, "Because it is for the people that don't eat breakfast!"


Submitted by Malinda Goble , Aunt


Happy Y2K!  

On New Years Eve we had the church members out to our house to sing and eat. My mom did not want to get out because of the whole Y2K crisis that might have happened. She wanted to be home.  Everybody knew that. Chris Dickinson, being the prankster that he is, wanted to play a trick on Mom. He wanted to turn the power off and trick her.  We sang and ate and everything and when midnight came around, we had prayer. After the prayer, Chris slipped out the door unnoticed. He went out to the breaker box and flipped the main power switch. All the lights went off and every body said "Oh No"!  
Chris beat on the windows and made a whole lot of racket and then everybody knew it was a trick. My Mom wanted to ring his neck!

Submitted by Kevin Huneycutt
Little Rock Arkansas
Mablevale Pike  Church of Christ


Out of the mouths of babes...

My seven-year-old daughter, Rebekah, was sitting with her MawMaw in church services and looking through her MawMaw's Bible. My Mom (MawMaw) had written reference verses in the margins of the Bible and this interested Rebekah and concerned her, too. She sat and thought about that for a moment, and then wrote MawMaw this note, "I don't think you're supposed to correct God."

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