Wednesday, June 25, 2025

You Tricked Me

I cannot remember the first time someone pulled a trick on me.  I’m pretty sure it was my dad.  Tricks are part of the learning process of life.  I come from a family of tricksters.  My extended families: Hopper’s, Chapman’s, Crumpton’s, Dutton’s, Waldrop’s, Smith’s, Barnett’s, and Clark’s are well schooled in the art of trickery.

One memorable time was on a visit to my Dutton cousins.  They were poor as we were and found entertainment with simple things.  They told me that they wanted to show me something in the woods behind their house.  Following cousins Floyd, Wayne, Larry, and Danny in the woods was fun and exciting.  They were more like older brothers than cousins.

As we trekked up the trail, I paid more attention to my surroundings than I did where I was going.  Suddenly I stepped and I disappeared into a gigantic hole.  I found myself looking up at four laughing cousins peering down.  I felt like a trapped animal about to be speared to death.  They retried me from the hole and showed me how they built the trap.

The hole was formed by stump of a large tree that either had rotted or had been removed for the resin it possessed.  They had placed rotten pine sticks over the hole and then covered the sticks with pine straw.  They showed me how they stepped around the hole allowing me to step into hole. I couldn’t wait to get home and build one for some unsuspecting soul.

School was another place where tricks were fun.  My senior year there was a mump epidemic.  I had already had them.  One of my favorite teachers, Ms. Harvey, was an old maid that had never had the mumps.  I had her for advanced math.

The principal and biology teacher enlisted Tony, my friend and future brother-in-law, to pull a prank on Ms. Harvey.  They gave us some bubble gum, which was prohibited in class, and instructed us to hold the bubble gum in our jaws resembling the mumps.

We went to advanced math and did as directed.  I held my face on my desk and got my face hot and red as did Tony.  Ms. Harvey summoned Tony and me to her desk where she felt our faces to check for fever.  With classmates in cahoots with us, when Ms. Harvey asked if I was okay, classmates told Ms. Harvey that my brothers had the mumps.  They were really home with them!

Ms. Harvey ordered us out.  She was terrified she would catch the mumps.  A couple of our friends pretended they were sick, and she told them to go to the office.  Back then there was no school nurse.

When Tony and I arrived at the office and informed the principal and the biology teacher, they laughed and applauded our diabolical deed.  They told us to return to class and tell Ms. Harvey. 

Ms. Harvey did not appreciate out Academy Award acting debut and became livid.  We told about the scheme orchestrated by the principle and biology teacher.  She said they would never do such an evil thing and expelled us from class.

When we told the principle and biology teacher, they realized their blunder and accused us of taking the trick too far.  Tony and I got demerits.  The joke was on us as the principal and biology teacher put the blame on us.

The cement plant was a perfect place for tricks.  When I operated the cement kilns my oiler and I made a deal about losing weight.  We decided that the first one to lose twenty pounds would be treated to a steak supper and all the fixings by the loser.

I told him to bring a set of scales to the burner floor, and we would weigh and record our weight at the end of our work week and the first shift to the new week.  We worked seven midnight shifts from Wednesday through the following Tuesday and were off two days.  Then we worked seven evening shifts from Friday through the following Thursday and were off Friday.  Day shift started Saturday and went to Friday, and we were off to Wednesday midnight.

My oiler got the scales, and we stated our weight loss competition.  What he did not know was that the scales were used to weigh raw materials.  The scales design was conducive for me to put my little finger on a rod that connected the counterbalance weights and slide that determined our weight.  When we weighed before being off, I made him weigh less.  When we returned, I made him weigh more.  His weight was fluctuating twenty pounds, and it was driving him crazy.

He accused me of cheating that is why I had my hands were where he could see them.  He never realized that my little finger was on the rod that controlled the counterweights.  I carried on the deception for several months.  Our coworkers told me I should be ashamed.

Finally, I showed Allen, my oiler, how I controlled him.  He laughed after giving me a big cussing and threatened to kill me.  

Last year, thirty years later, I had the privilege to baptize him.  Thanks, Allen, for your friendship.

 

The Bible has plenty of tricksters. Here is one from the Book of Joshua 9:3-8 KJV

 

And when the inhabitants of Gibeon heard what Joshua had done unto Jericho and to Ai,

They did work wilily, and went and made as if they had been ambassadors, and took old sacks upon their asses, and wine bottles, old, and rent, and bound up;

And old shoes and clouted upon their feet, and old garments upon them; and all the bread of their provision was dry and mouldy.

And they went to Joshua unto the camp at Gilgal, and said unto him, and to the men of Israel, We be come from a far country: now therefore make ye a league with us.

And the men of Israel said unto the Hivites, Peradventure ye dwell among us; and how shall we make a league with you?

And they said unto Joshua, We are thy servants. And Joshua said unto them, Who are ye? and from whence come ye? 

Saturday, June 21, 2025

RESPECT - Where did it go?

Several years the Hopper family gathered in Montgomery, Alabama for the wake of my aunt Gertrude.  It was one of the few occasions that the extended Hopper family was together.  It seems that funerals have been the reason for our coming together.  Problem is there are getting fewer of us.

As Hopper kin we were taught respect, especially to women, children, the elderly, and especially toward people that are not able to care for themselves.  Hoppers do not mind stepping in when there is disrespect.

At the funeral home a young boy walked into the chapel wearing a baseball cap.  My uncle Cliff jerked the small boy around and told him to show respect for Aunt Gertrude and yanked the ball cap from his head.  The young boy tried to resist but Uncle Cliff “got his attention” and the embarrassed lad skedaddled.

The young boy was not part of the Hopper family but that did not matter.  Uncle Cliff in a few brief moments explained to the young man to have respect.  Hoppers were taught not to wear hats in church, something that amazes me about today’s culture.  It is amazing how many men and boys wear caps at the table.  That was a big no no at the Hopper table or when we had the honor and privilege to dine at a restaurant.  The legendary Coach “Bear” Bryant would not wear his famous hound’s-tooth hat in the Sugar Bowl in New Orleans.  He said he was taught not to wear a hat inside.

Wearing hats inside has to be the product of a generation that knows not a father.  Shame on a society that dad is absent and the media that glorifies the buffoonery of the stupid dad.  It is the breakdown of family which was ordained in the Garden of Eden.

When I attended the University of Montevallo in the 1980’s, a male student wore a hat into Dr. Morgan’s history class.  Dr. Morgan politely asked the student to remove his hat.  The student was indignant and refused which did not fare well with Dr. Morgan.  Dr. Morgan told the student if he did not remove the hat that he had to remove himself from the classroom.

The student said that the reason for the cap was he did not have time to comb his hair.  Dr. Morgan reminded him that it was his classroom and to remove the hat or get out.  The student removed his hat and would have made Alfalfa of the Little Rascals proud.

As a returning adult to the University, I tried to be kind and courteous toward everyone.  One day I held the door open for another returning adult.  As she approached, she began to use some very ugly language.  She told me that she could open the @#$& door her @#$& self and did not need a @#$& male chauvinist pig to open it for her. 

I said, “You are welcome.  My mamma told me to be a gentleman every chance I got and to hold a door open for a lady.  Undoubtedly, you’re not one.  Have a great day!”

It is amazing at the number of people that smile when you show them respect.  One day a friend said, “I notice that every time you speak to a child you lower yourself.”  I told my friend that I get down looking them in the eye.  I show them respect.

Recently in Wal-Mart, a little boy was checking his blood pressure.  Filling out his info on the machine he asked me how to spell Michael.  I could tell that he had special needs, so I took time to help him.  We enjoyed sharing with each other.  I went over to another aisle and another special needs boy said, “My name is Tommy, what’s yours?  His mother scolded him.  I smiled a big smile and said Bobby.”  His mother smiled a big smile.  Both boys helped make it a great day.  I told my wife if a third special needs child spoke to me it would be a special word from God.

I’m thankful the Hoppers continue to teach and show respect.

Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love; in honour preferring one another Romans 12:10 KJV

 “Stand up in the presence of the elderly, and show respect for the aged. Fear your God. I am the LORD.” Leviticus 19:32

 Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it. Proverbs 22:6

Thursday, June 12, 2025

Only in Church

Church is the place where we worship, preach, teach, sing praises, pray, and fellowship.  It is a sacred place, a safe place, and a sanctified place.  We experience many exciting and wonderful moments with weddings, baptisms, baby dedications, vacation Bible school, and revivals.

There are experiences of salvation, rededication, and renovation.  Singings and homecomings fill the church with attendance, melody, and nostalgia.  Funerals and times of repentance remind us that death and sin are related. 

These times can prompt salvation and forgiveness.  Grace and mercy are characteristics of God and jog our memory to the greatness of God and eternal life through Jesus.  The Holy Spirit moving among the church presents some marvelous happenings.

Reminiscing about church has some things that need penning.  There are some events that are unbelievable and memorable.  I have titled this article: Only in Church.

 

At the Sweet Water Baptist church, the pastor was very passionate about his preaching.  He was very good.  However, one of the members there would close his eyes during the preaching of the sermon. 

Finally, one Sunday the preacher asked why the member closed his eyes.  The member said, “Pastor, I love to hear you preach but I can’t stand to look at you!”

Brierfield Baptist church was having the baptism of a teenage girl.  The girl had broken her arm, and she had a bubble wrap on it.  It was the preacher’s first time to conduct a baptism.  As former pastor at Brierfield, the teenager asked if I would attend her baptism.

I will never forget it.  As she descended into the baptism waters, the blue bubble wrap on her arm was obvious.  As the newbie pastor cited, “I baptize thee my sister in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,” everything went into the water but her arm.

The poor pastor tried several attempts of dunking the teenager, but the blue bubble wrapped arm retained its sin.  The splashing of the waters went everywhere.

An earlier baptism at Brierfield involved sister church Ashby.  Ashby did not have a baptism pool so they barrowed Brierfield’s.  The weather was cold; 14 degrees was the low.  The baptism pool was filled, the heating element was energized, and the water was crystal clear.

Ashby member filled the auditorium, and the baptism candidates lined the passageway to the pool.  As the Ashby pastor entered into the water like John the
Baptist of old he started a tradition.  It was the first polar bear baptism.  The heating element had shorted and failed to heat the water.

The Providence Baptist Church had two men that were notorious for pulling pranks.  One Sunday as the pastor waxed eloquently, one of the pranksters fell asleep.  When the timing was just right, the other prankster nudged the sleeping one and said, “The preacher called on you to say the benediction.”

The poor sleepy man stood up and closed the service.  The preacher pronounced to the church to have a good afternoon since there was an early benediction.

Baby dedications are wonderful occasions.  I had twelve babies to dedicate one Sunday at the Gallion Baptist Church.  Parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and everyone else flooded the church in anticipation of the dedication.  Baby dedications are more for the parents and the congregation.  The only way the baby will know of the moment is through the parents and the church.

I took each child and lifted them toward God.  I had individual prayer and words of encouragement for each.  When I lifted Chloe high into the air I started to speak when I noticed a big bubble of baby slobber hanging from her lip.  It was like watching an eye drop dangling before it drops in your eye.

Suddenly the big glob fell into my mouth.  The whole congregation gasped, with a variety of different moans and words.

The only thing I could do was to swallow it which the congregation did another set of phrases.  I said, “Dew drops from heaven from one of God’s little angels.”

I performed a wedding at the Brierfield Historical Park at the Mulberry Baptist Church.  The church had been moved from deep in the Bibb County woods and remodeled making it ideal for weddings and other venues.

As I conducted the ceremony, the little feller that was the ring barrier began to run his hand up the leg of the groom.  The groom tried to motion the little boy back, but he was not deterred and had a big mischievous grin.  I tried not to laugh, the groom focused on the vows, and the bride was scared stiff.

The pastor of Union Springs Baptist Church, my home church was and continues to be a great puppeteer.  He has great movement when preaching.  He has what my professor of preaching, the late Calvin Miller, said is balanced movement.  The pulpit always is the center of his movement.  The pulpit is and always must be the center of preaching the Bible.

The late RG Lee was one of my pastor’s favorites.  He quoted him often.  One Sunday as my pastor moved like a caged lion keeping the pulpit center, he crept closer and closer to the edge of the stage which was about three feet high.  He finally did it.  He stepped off the stage saying, “R G Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

He landed on the floor and never missed a beat.  He slowly returned to the stage and behind the pulpit.

 

I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the LORD.  Psalm 122:1 KJV

Thursday, June 5, 2025

Runaways

Someone once asked me about school.  I told them that I hated school.  I love to learn, I just hated school.  I loved math and history, tolerated science, hated English and spelling.  Then they asked me about my grades.  I said that I hated school so much that I made straight A’s, was a Beta Club member, and president of the Beta Club my senior year of high school. 

When students told me they hated school I inquired of their grades.  Usually, their grades were bad and most had failed or taken summer school.  I would say, “You must really love school to fail and take the class again.” I said if they really hated school they would make A’s.  They would quiz, “Why?”  I replied, “You graduate quicker.”  

I often spoke at high school Baccalaureates, college students, civic organizations, and preached since 1983.  When introduced as Dr. Hopper, I got rounds of laughter and sometimes ovations.  I would tell them that the D R stands for Documented Redneck.

I would tell students that I started school in 1959 at Beloit Kindergarten in Beloit, Illinois and graduated Beeson Divinity School at Sanford University in Birmingham, Alabama in December 2002.

Hopper tradition proves we deplore school.  Mom went to the seventh grade and quit to hoe and pick cotton. Dad went to the eighth grade and quit to cut and load, by hand, pulpwood.  My younger brother, Glenn, and I we were school runaways.  My sister Diane and other brother David were not as bold and daring as Glenn and I were.

When I started kindergarten in Beloit, it was mandatory, and I loved it.  My teacher was a beautiful young blonde and reminded me of Beaver Cleaver’s teacher on the television show “Leave it to Beaver.”

I got to finger paint, go to the creek, and catch tadpoles.  The best part was it was only a half day.  There was no homework, tests, or any pressure.  It was wonderful until I started the first grade a Beloit Elementary.

In first grade I had the oldest and meanest teacher.  She had to be at least a hundred years old and was a robust Yankee tyrant.  This first grader from central Alabama did not speak as did the other students.  I was a shy introvert, and she was a fun making bully.  She shamed my Southern drawl, criticized my reading, and analyzed by inability to skip with both feet.

After school started, I saw my teacher at a sporting event.  When I saw her in that old gangster car, an old Buick with bullet hole fenders, I was terrified.  Momma worried and warned us about the evil ninety miles to the east in Chicago.  The St. Valentine Day Massacre happened many years before, but momma still fretted.  I thought that that
Gangster Yankee teacher was going to kill this little Johnny Reb.

We lived three or four blocks from the Elementary school.  I would walk to school and eventually I got fed up the “Attila the Hun” and sometimes I would enter the breezeway of the schoolhouse and return home crying.

When the snow came, I would walk to school in the snow.  On extreme snow days day would drive me to school.  He would put me out and I could beat him back to the house hiding under the kitchen table for long periods of time. 

In March of 1960, we moved back to Alabama the Beautiful.  My cousin Floyd took me to school in Jemison.  My teacher was a Ms. Shirley, and she looked a lot like the one in Illinois.  I was terrified.  She made fun of me because after three years up North, I picked up the Yankee brogue.

To complicate matters, I asked to be excused to go the restroom.  Welcome to the South and outside toilets.  I had an outside toilet at home, so it was no big deal although the inside ones in Illinois were nice.  Returning to the classroom, Attila the Hun’s sister asked me a quest on the subject I missed will in the toilet.  I could not answer her, and she made me sit on a stool in the clothes’ closet with a dunce hat.

The school is six miles from home so I couldn’t walk home.  But the school bus circled with a quarter mile of the house so I would get off the bus and walk home.  We had only one vehicle, so I got to stay home claiming various ailments.

After being threatened within the inch of my life by momma I did not pull the ailment scam.  I did get off the bus where I normally escaped but it was on the way home.  I felt sick but I had cried wolf so many times did not believe me. 
Turns out I had the mumps.  Momma sure did feel bad.

I honestly do not know had I got in the second grade, but I did.  I had Mrs. Nellie Glasscock for second grade, and she was like a sweet grandmother.  In the third grade we did not a permanent teacher until Christmas break.  God blessed us with a beautiful blonde angel named Mrs. Avis Harden.  I went to making excellent grades.  She was inspiration for the rest of my schooling.

My brother Glenn was a first grader when I was in the ninth grade.  Most of the teachers we had had taught mom.  They were old.  Glenn would run away from school.  He made across the railroad tracks or a mile or so from school like an escape convict appended and returned to prison.

My fondest memory is ninth grade civics class.  Danny Pike, a friend sat behind me.  Mrs. Miller was cousin to the Huns and was very strict.  Danny had a special touch to get my attention fearing the wrath of Mrs. Miller.  He whispered, “Your brother is at the door.”  There was my little brother with saddest face and expression that said, “I want to go home.”  I was his last hope.  Glenn will be sixty-five this October.

Glenn was head and shoulders taller that his first-grade cell mates.  When his ancient teacher threatened to give him a baby bottle he was not as quick to make an escape.  We finally told momma years later about her baby runaway.  I think she was more sympatric than angry.

 

Jesus’ parents were relieved when they found him in school.  He ran to school where the Hoppers were runaways.

 

Every year Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem for the Festival of the Passover.  When he was twelve years old, they went up to the festival, according to the custom.   After the festival was over, while his parents were returning home, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but they were unaware of it.  Thinking he was in their company, they traveled on for a day. Then they began looking for him among their relatives and friends.   When they did not find him, they went back to Jerusalem to look for him.   After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions.  Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers.   When his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.” Luke 2:41-48   KJV