The Burgerless Burger

 I love to grill hamburgers and hotdogs over a hickory fire and enjoying getting together to share the food and fun.  As everyone built their hamburger to their liking, the subject of my famous hamburger arose.  I once told that when I was young, we could not afford hamburger meat so I would make a hamburger without the meat.  Friends would laugh at me and say that I was crazy.  I told them not to knock until they tried it.

When we moved back to Alabama from Illinois in 1960, Dad could not find work.  There were many times when we had little or no food in the house.  There had been a short time when we first moved to Illinois, that we had little or no food, but dad quickly got work there and we had plenty.

One of my favorite sandwiches is bread with butter baked in the oven and then sprinkled with sugar.  I remember momma with tears in her eyes saying to my sister and me that there was no food, but how good the sugar-coated buttered toast was.  When food was in short supply, mamma would always say she was not hungry give us her food.  She did that night with the buttered toast.

Back in Alabama, there were several times that there was no food.  Momma would always remind us that God would take care of us.  I remember one morning that the cupboard was bare.  We heard a vehicle in the yard and my sister, two brothers, and I went to see who it was.  It was an old 1950 baby blue Plymouth Deluxe, my Grandpaw Chapman’s car.  By the way, it is the same car that my daughter Angela had the fire department retrieve from our burning basement and I had restored.

Grandpaw had bags of groceries for us.  That morning we had milk and cereal for breakfast and other delights.  God used Grandpaw that morning.  A time or two later, my aunt would bring us food.

Daddy always felt bad that other people had to provide what he could not.  Grandpaw just encouraged him to keep looking for work which daddy finally did.  We soon bought a tractor and traded for some pigs.  After that, we had plenty of food.

At the family discussion, we told our guests, that one time one of the family took time and skill to create her hamburger.  This person had all the fixin’s a person could put on a hamburger.  This person had this knack for making food look delicious when they eat.  They use the expression “lambing good.”  All I know is that means it is delicious, I think.

This family member was about half way through eating the hamburger when they realized that they had failed to put her hamburger patty in the sandwich.  I told them, “See it is pretty good without the meat!”

When one does not have an abundance of food, one can be creative.  My family tells me that I eat like a pig.  It is not so much the sloppiness, but the things I eat.  The other day I fixed a potato salad hamburger.  I put the leftover potato salad on the meat in a bun.  It was pretty good.  Growing up I fixed many mayonnaise and sugar sandwiches.  One of my favorites is a peanut butter and cinnamon pickle sandwich.  My sister takes cucumbers and red-hot candies to make the pickles.  It is a Chilton county version of apple rings.

When there is a shortage of bread, I have combined bananas and turkey meat in the same sandwich.  Remember; don’t knock it till you try it.  With a shortage of hamburger and plenty of hog sausage, a sausage burger is real good.

Another good sandwich is leftover cold dried butter beans with catsup.  A mustard mayonnaise sandwich is good in pinch.  A leftover meatloaf spread with mayonnaise is real good.  My philosophy is, if is leftover, it can be a good sandwich.  Watching one the food channels I found out that there is a sandwich named the “Bobby.”  It is made with leftover turkey, stuffing, gravy, cranberry sauce, and mayonnaise placed on sub sandwich bread.  After the program, my baby son Aaron said he could not believe someone made sandwiches like me.  He commented that he would like to try a “Bobby Sandwich.”  It looked good.

You will not believe it, but a story about Eddie Rickenbacker inspired this article.  Rickenbacker was a WWI flying ace that downed 26 enemy planes.  In WWII he worked in the Secretary of War Department and during one of his visits to troops was shot down in the ocean.  For twenty-four days he drifted.  About to starve to death, a seagull landed on his float.  He killed it, ate it, and lived to be rescued.

Rickenbacker’s story inspired a devotional titled “When the Seagull Doesn’t Come.”  The devotional is a reminder of faith in God.  God will never leave us nor forsake us.

Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.  The Lord God is my strength . . . (Habakkuk 3:17-19a KJV).

I don’t know if momma knew these verses, but she understood the principle of faith.

 

The Case of the Bouncing Ice Cream Cone

When is the last time someone asked you a puzzling question? You know, one that leaves you scratching your head and sends you mind a whizzing.  The one I get the most is why did I leave the ministry.  I get that question in a variety of ways.  How come you do not have a church?  Why don’t you pastor?  What do you miss most since you got out of the ministry? 

It is amazing how many people, that is church people, Baptist people, and people in general do not know what a Director of Missions does.  My favorite answer is that churches pay me not to preach.

Since I am out of the ministry, as people say, or do not pastor, folks want to know what I miss the most.  I tell them I miss time with church kids.  I have always had a great relationship with my church kids.  As Director of Missions, I have performed dozens of weddings for former church kids.

Another thing I miss is the discipline of doing three sermons a week.  I love studying and putting together a message from God to His people and those who need to hear His Word. 

Discipline is a way of life for believers.  I am concerned that today’s lack of discipline among people will be tomorrow’s disappointment.  It takes discipline to function in society.  Today everyone wants it now.  “It” covers just about everything in life. 

I had several instructors on discipline.  There was Mildred Miller, my seventh grade history teacher.  Monday’s homework assignment was one hundred facts for the chapter we were studying.  Tuesday’s assignment was fifty questions and answers.  Wednesday’s assignment was a combination of facts and questions.  Then, there was a test.  I loved history, but not because of Mrs. Miller.

There was Coach Lamar, my defensive football coach.  Everyday there were pushups, monkey rolls, wind sprints, the camel caravan, the Burma rope, and these were for practice.  There were other means of discipline when you could not get a play right.

I started at defensive end as a sophomore.  For the first three football games people got outside Nutt Burnett, the other end, and me.  For three weeks, the football team ran over either Nutt or me.  You notice I said the football team.  Nutt and I were the only two on defense.  We knew they were running outside.  Our job was to turn them inside.  I can say with pride that after the after the third game, no one, I mean no one, ran outside on the Jemison football team for three seasons.  I learned discipline to stay at home at my position and turn the play inside.

There was dad.  He taught me disciplines of life.  I remember one time after we had moved from Illinois back to Alabama we were returning home from Clanton.  I was around six or seven years old.  Dad decided to go the highway through Thorsby and Jemison rather than the shortcut of the dirt road.  Dad would hardly ever stop and eat.  We have drove for hours and never stopped to eat.  The big reason was lack of money.

On this particular trip dad asked what I wanted from the Dari Delite.  Up home, we had the Dairy Queen, Dairy Barn, Dari Lan, Dari Delite South, Dairy Delite North, and Dairy Lan Thorsby, all ice cream places.  The Dari Delite in Thorsby still has the best ice cream in the state.  I told daddy that I wanted an ice cream cone.  When we got there, I noticed many tempting delights made with ice cream.  While dad was getting me a cone, I decided I wanted a milk shake or malt.  Dad returned to the car with the cone and I told him of my change of heart and tantalizing desire of my taste buds.  He put the ice cream cone in my hand as we started home.  I told dad that I did not want the cone and that I wanted one of those delicious milk shakes or heavenly malts.  He said that I got what I wanted and to eat it.

I repeated that I not want the cone.  I remember to this moment conversing with him via the rearview mirror.  I sure you have had those conversations.

He said, “If you don’t want the cone, give it here.”  I did with a smirk of defiance.  I thought he would return to the Dari Delite and fulfil me the temptations of my heart and desire of my taste buds.  Dad tossed the ice cream cone out the window.  I will never forget watching from the rear window the ice cream cone bouncing down US Highway 31 between the towns of Thorsby and Jemison as my sister smiled and enjoyed her ice cream treat.  Dad’s words and actions were etched in stone that day and I pondered what could have been.

At the end of your life you will groan, when your flesh and body are spent.  You will say, "How I hated discipline! How my heart spurned correction!  I would not obey my teachers or listen to my instructors. I have come to the brink of utter ruin in the midst of the whole assembly." (Proverbs 5:11-14 NIV).

The other day I stopped at the Dari Delite in Thorsby and ordered a hot fudge sundae with walnuts in heavy syrup.  I encourage you to visit it but be sure to have some discipline when ordering.

 

Do You Enjoy Your Work?

Do you enjoy your job?  Has your vocation brought real satisfaction?  Most people dislike their work.  I read a list of the 10 most disliked vocations.  At the top of the list was Security Officer.  I immediately thought about some of the Security Officers I have known.

My first experience with a Security Officer was at Keystone Metal Molding in Clanton, Alabama.  I cannot remember his name, but he was a short thin man.  He had an abundance of information for an eighteen year old.  Every day about 2:30, the time I arrived to start the evening shift; my security friend would stop me and share a nugget of wisdom.

His experience of operating a service station, you remember those gas stations that checked your oil level, checked your tire pressure, and cleaned your windshield, created an opportunity for him to meet people from all over the United States.  I remember that he did not have much respect for Yankees.  He reminded me occasionally that Yankees traveling through the South had a distain and a host of derogatory remarks for Southerners, especially Alabamians.

He once told of an occasion where he tired of hearing the same old Yankee put down and responded with a very appropriate rebuttal.  Many years later, I used his rebuttal, now as a pastor I had to clean up the language, at a toxic waste rally in Calera.  I was asked by the community group CARE (Citizens Alliance for Respect of the Environment) to help repeal a State issued permit for the dumping, the storing, and the burning of hazardous materials at the Calera Cement Plant. Unknown by the citizens, the permit included both toxic and radioactive materials, in central Alabama.  

The morning after using the rebuttal, a professor from the University of Montevallo caught me at the Montevallo Hardees.  He asked if what I said was what the exact words of security officer said.  I said yes, excepting that, I used two medical terms in place of two slang terms.  My security guard friend said one day he finally had enough.  When one Damn Yankee told my friend that Alabama was the rectum of the world. My friend responded, “Well it ought a be.  There is enough Yankee feces comes through it.” At the rally I stated that Calera was the Heart of the Heart of Dixie and we were tired of Yankee feces trying to make us a rectum.  By the way, that night at the rally I got a standing ovation for my famous edited quote.

Speaking of the cement plant, I had a memorable experience with another unforgettable security guard.  This one took his job just a little too serious.  Webb was a short, overweight, chain smoking, weapon fanatic who reminded you of Sergeant Shultz of the Hogan’s Hero sitcom of the late 1960’s.  The only difference Shultz “knew nothing” and Webb knew everything from microbiology to the secrets of the universe.

He watched the main entrance of the plant like a hawk.  He stood with his feet pointed out and rocked back and forth.  He talked to himself.  He appeared never to bathe and his elbows looked like patches on the sleeves of an English teed sports coat. 

No one liked Webb.  He was consumed, or maybe possessed, with automatic weapons, grenades, bazookas, and all manners of total and final destruction.  To be trapped by him in his small security building was pure torture. 

Webb was in his mid forties and besides being the poster boy for obese Alabama, he lived with his mother. Sometimes he would inspect our lunch pails when leaving the plant, trying to catch someone stealing from the plant or trying to confiscate food.

One day an employee, Lucas, teased Webb about stealing a can of WD40.  Webb being the Pharisee of security guards about rules and regulations quoted from the contract concerning employees removing items from the plant.  Any item removed had to have an authorized permission slip.

Webb watched Lucas like the proverbial hawk.  Most employees could have taken almost anything during those few days.  Webb’s eyes were fixed on Lucas.  Finally, the showdown came just like two gunslingers from the Old West.  As Lucas left the plant, he sprayed some WD40 at Webb.

Two days later as I drove to work, the plant entrance was blocked.  Being the simply minded person I am, I thought there had been a train wreck since the tracks were at the main entrance.  As I inquired of the situation, I learned that the employees of the plant were on what is called a “Wildcat Strike.”  I did not have my probationary time completed.  Although the guys encouraged me to go to work, I knew better than to pass a union’s picket line.  So, for twenty-three hours Webb and Lucas shut the plant down all because of a discarded WD40 canister.  Discarded WD40 cans were all over the plant.  I learned later that Webb should have been concerned with outside contractors that permanently borrowed welding machines that he watched leave the plant.

Lucas went back to being electrician and Lieutenant Webb went back to being the most trained and over qualified security guard to wear a security uniform.

I believe that most people that dislike their jobs are not living out God’s call for their lives.  If you find your niche and enjoy what you do, work becomes more enjoyable.  If you work for the money and dislike the work, it makes for a long day.

Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread? and your labour for that which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness (Isaiah 55:2 KJV).

And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men.  Knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance: for ye serve the Lord Christ (Colossians 3:23-24 KJV).

In memory of “Red Childs” of FBC Demopolis who enjoyed my articles, especially cement plant stories.

Sign of the Apocalypse

 Back in 2012 Time Magazine had an article entitled Sign of the Apocalypse.  I was made aware of the Sign of the Apocalypse shortly thereafter when I made a trip to the Chilton County Water Authority in Thorsby, Alabama.  It was one of those deals where I had to be there.  I had called to see why the water authority had turned off the water to a piece of property that I bought adjacent to my home in Jemison.

It is the policy of the authority to turn off the water when there is a land transaction.  I understand that but I had bought the property a year ago and I was ignorant of the fact that the water authority had such a policy to lock and eventually remove the water meter.  I was one of the original property owners that helped create the county water system and I had a place for a meter on my property but never used it because I have a good well.

After a few months of not needing county water, the water authority removed the meter.  When I called concerning the water and the missing meter, the powers that be at the authority told me that they had removed it and that I had to show proof that I bought the property.  I had to produce legal documentation that verified that I owned the property and I had to produce a photo ID to prove I was who I said I was and that the reconnect fee was $100.  I thought, “You got to be kidding me.”

When I arrived after a two-hour drive at the Chilton County Water Authority, I thought I had mistakenly entered a convenient store late at night.  I had never been in the facility, but I had passed it on many occasions.  In fact, I went by it every day that I went to church as pastor of Friendship in Clanton before moving to my present position.  I never would have imagined the tight security inside.  The secretaries were behind what I detected as bulletproof Plexiglas.

The secretary behind the glass knew me; I had graduated with her brother.  I told her that I needed to see a Ms. Fox.  Ms. Fox was the one that told me to gather all the information to have the water service reconnected.

Ms. Fox told me that she did not handle the reconnecting process and the classmate’s sister would be the one to have the serviced reconnected.

I had a briefcase full of information.  I produced a copy of the deed and property description.  I produced the legal documents where the lawyer processed the sale of the property to me.  I had to give my driver’s license, which was my photo ID.  Then underneath the glass in the contraption that resembles those at the all-night convenient store where you slide your money for your purchases, the secretary slips me a piece of paper and tells me to write down my social security number.

I told her that when I borrowed the money to buy the property that I did not have to do all the legal paperwork that I was required to do to have a water meter reconnected.  I slid a check for $100 in the contraption.

I know that things have changed a good bit since I left there twelve years prior.  I thought, man they must have some more issues with people and their water bills.  A couple of shady characters did come in while did the paperwork. Growing up there, I realized they were just some “good old boys.”  My mind was boggled with what is happening in the world where I have to produce all this legal mess for water and people are protesting, especially in 2021, showing an ID when they vote.  Water is vital, but so are the people we elect into office.  Water fraud is bad, but voter fraud can be more destructive.

I told my friend, the secretary, that I know that it is no account good for nothing sorry people that cause all the hassle with everything we do today.

To give an example, my son Aaron and I stopped at Advanced Auto in Alabaster, Alabama shortly after the water turnoff to purchase some spray that would seal a water leak in the plastic overflow bottle on his pickup.  The guy helping us showed us the different products for doing the job.  He removed a package and said I recommend this.  I looked at the package and it appeared to be empty.  I said it looks empty.  Sure enough, someone had entered the store, carefully slit the package, and removed the contents.  The guy behind the counter said that one guy walked in and commenced to put tools in his pants.  I thought, “Now I know why pants hang so low on some men.”  He said people do it all the time.  We live in a fraudulent and putrefaction society.

I had a friend that had stock in Walmart.  He said that the home office sent their security team to our local store to check the security of the store.  Walmart securities loaded two tractor-trailer loads of items from the store and were never caught.  They had stolen lawn mowers, big screen televisions and hundreds of other items and no one caught them. My friend told me that the Walmart figures thievery into to operating of their stores.  During the past year things have escalated and the Apocalypse is closer than we imagined.

This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.  (2 Timothy 3:1 KJV).