Rainy Day Memories

 It was a rainy Thursday in Alabama, and I was happy.  I love rainy days whereas most people become depressed.  I have a dear friend in Demopolis, Alabama that gets very depressed when it rains.  She told me that when it rains, she thinks how much I enjoy it, and she becomes more depressed because I love it.

One of my favorite things is to take my old 1977 GMC pickup, nicknamed Gymmie, for a ride.  There is something magical and hypnotic about riding in the rain.  It is the rhythm of the windshield wipers as they repeal the precious jewels of heaven falling on the glass.  Then there is the flutter of angel wings as the dual glass pack exhaust sings a lullaby that will send passengers into a wonderful sleep.  

As I spend a few precious moments of my being in Gymmie, I thought of the 48 years that I have driven the old truck and the special stories Gymmie could tell.   Yesterday was special because it was my youngest son’s 38^th birthday.

For the first three years of his life, he did not sleep all night.  After working midnights at the cement plant, his mother demanded that I get Aaron out of the house where she could get a few moments of sleep.  I would lay him in the seat beside me, this was pre car seat days, and before we got a mile down the road, he would be asleep.

Aaron loved Gymmie.  He loved it so much that when the seat became ragged, a cousin of mine did some work on Gymmie and replaced the seat with one identical.  Aaron was a teenager and was not happy until I retrieved the old seat and placed it back in the truck.  The seat had worn spots created by our rear ends!

Aaron and I spent many hours riding in Gymmie.  When he got in trouble with his older brother and sister and mom, I would take him and console him and prepare him for life.  When he left home and finally moved away to Texas, I thanked God for the special moments that I encouraged him on life’s journey.

Around 2013, Aaron and I started rebuilding Gymmie.  His older brother had totaled Gymmie 1988, and we renamed it Joseph because Gymmie had a “coat of many colors” as did Joseph in the Bible.  Front fenders, front bumper, and hood were demolished when striking a pecan tree in the front yard. 

We drove it for several months with no hood, a primed right fender, and deer rammed left fender.  I did get a rusty hood from a junk truck at the cement plant.  Aaron only knew the wrecked Gymmie.  Gymmie was so bad that a preacher friend once asked, “Was anyone killed in the wreck?”  Aaron and I quizzed, “What wreck?”  The “so called friend” grinning said, “The one y’all got out of!”

Aaron and I stripped Gymmie to the frame giving it new life.  We changed broken and worn-out parts.  We repaired the interior first with new seat covers, new dash, and all the components that made it brand new inside.

We purchased new fenders, hood, doors, chrome, grill, tailgate, and bed panels.  I had a friend give Gymmie a professional paint job.  The pickup that I could not give away suddenly became the object of lust for boys and men.  We transformed a junker into a show truck.  It is not a show truck.  Aaron and I did not want a “trailer queen” but a truck we could drive.  To put the finishing touch on it we had the engine and transmission rebuilt.

The most asked question is, “Is it for sale?”  I say, “No.”  Some are very persistent.  They have made some very tempting offers but I say, “You will have to get on a very long waiting list.”  Some say every man has a price.  I tell folks that I have promised it to Aaron.  It is my gift to him for all the memories of our lasting impressions, “our butts”, and other times that rainy days help create and keep our hearts joined.  Happy Birthday son.

One day Aaron can give it to his son Jack Barrett Hopper.

The Bible has 139 scriptures on the begats.  Here is a look at our heritage since coming from Scotland:

Thomas Hopper, b. 1747, Amherst County, VA; d. 1837, Oglethorpe County, GA     

Rolly Hopper, b. 1775, Amherst Co., VA; d. 1860, Elbert Co.

Mitchell Brady Hopper, b. 1816 or 1817, Oglethorpe County, GA; d. about 1857 in Perry County, AL

William Hopson Hopper, b. August 24, 1853, in Perry County, AL; d. September 9, 1935, Lawley, AL

Mitchell Clark Hopper, b. December 7, 1887, at Lawley, Bibb County, AL; d. March 30, 1935, Lawley, AL

Mitchell Clark Hopper, Jr., b. April 9, 1924, in Waycross, GA; d. April 27, 1994, Jemison, AL

Bobby Earl Hopper, b. December 13, 1952, in Clanton, AL

Aaron Christopher Hopper, b. May 29, 1987, in Birmingham, AL

Jack Barrett Hopper, b. July 19, 2023, in Baytown, TX

 

When people inquire of Gymmie I tell them that it is a labor of love of Father and Son.  Gymmie is a reminder that the Love of The Father and Sacrifice of His Son can transform and give new life the life’s wrecks.

Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. 2 Corinthians 5:17 KJV

Purpose Driven

 Before the millennium, I got an invite from Danny Daniels to spend time with Dr. Rick Warren and the folks at Saddleback Church.  Danny was Rick's best friend.

A preacher friend, Gene Hitchcock had been stationed in California and Rick and Danny served with him there.  Gene was a retired Marine Major.  Gene introduced me to Danny, and I asked him to preach an Easter Revival for me at the Friendship Baptist Church in Clanton, Alabama.

Danny was on staff at Saddleback as Evangelism minister and working with the Billy Graham Organization preaching in areas that would eventually invite Dr. Graham for area-wide crusades.  Danny desire to get started in the Southeast United States.  It was after the revival at Friendship that Daddy invited me to California.

I told several friends of the invitation, and they seemed uninterested thinking I was dreaming.  That was until one of the Southern Baptist Convention's when Danny and I accidentally met.  Another preacher friend and I were resting when Danny spotted me.  I introduced Danny to him.  Danny wanted to know when I was going to visit him at Saddleback.   I told him that I planned in the near future.  He winked in agreement.

Roland, my friend, all of a sudden realized that my invitation was real.  He and I did visit Saddleback.  Roland had received a special grant and paid our way to California.  Danny planned the trip and booked us near Saddleback.  

Dr. Warren was having one of his conferences and Danny secured all the necessities.  Before the conference Danny took into Rick's office and the operation of Saddleback and the The Purpose Driven Life phenomnon.  Danny told us that if Rick had chosen to be a minister that he would have become President.

We were not able to meet Rick who was suffering from severe back pain.  Rick did the conference via video.  During one of the breakout sessions, a gentlemen notice that nametag showed I was from Alabama.  He said, "My name is Jimmy, Rick's dad and I have a sister in Alabama.  Her name Anora Gant and she lives in Titus.  I moved to Texas years ago."

Brother Jimmy did a study guide that accompanies Rick's book.  I hold it as one of the treasures in my collection of books.  My preacher friend was astonished.  He said everyone here is trying to see Rick and his dad chose you.  Hopper, You are something else.

I little later at another time out, a lady approached me and she saw that I was from Alabama.  She looked me in the eyes and asked, "Why do people in Alabama shoot one another?"

I looked at her name tag and saw that she was from California.  I pondered the question and replied in a slow and premeditated Alabama "redneck" southern boy drawl, "Mam, I think that the latest shooting was near LA when some California weirdo shot a rifle off a freeway bridge.  I think that the last school shooting was on the West coast."

Her next question was, "Why do you people in Alabama have so many guns?"

I said it real slow so she would continue to think I was stupid, "To kill for food to eat."  I went into my pastoral voice and taught her about guns and Southern pride, wisdom, and know how.  I said from a young age we are taught to respect a gun.  The Golden Rule of a gun is, "Do not point it at something unless you intent to kill it."  Guns do not kill, PEOPLE KILL.  Cars do not kill, people kill, cell phones do not kill, people kill.  Cigarettes, Alcohol, and drugs do not kill, people kill people.  All the items mentioned left by themselves will never kill.  One of my first lessons in like was I pointed a toy shotgun with corks attached to the barrels at my sister and said, "I'll kill you."  I was playing.  Dad wrapped my new Christmas present around a tree, whipped me, and made me tell my sister I was sorry.  Then, he lectured me on the horror of killing.  He served in WWII and saw plenty of killing.

I drew her attention to a small window and said, I have a small son that can already fire a rifle.  I can tell him to shoot out that window and he can.  He is a very excellent shot.  I told her for the number of guns owned in Alabama, versus the intentional and premediated murders and crimes is not comparable.

She said you eat food you kill.  I told her yes, and someone kills the food you eat.  She was shocked when I told her that I killed hogs, squirrels, rabbits, cows, and even fish.

I had a wonderful adventure visiting California to the Purpose Driven Life Clinic and got to teach a lesson on the purpose of guns and the reality of the hearts of humanity.  Even in Birmingham, Alabama there is a heart condition.  The University of Alabama in Birmingham is one of the finest heart hospitals in the world.  Daily there are murders in Birmingham and surrounding towns.

We must teach our children the realities of life. 

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

Thou shalt not kill  Exodus 20:13 KJV

For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he  Proverbs 23:7 KJV

Check out Danny Daniels book Mortal Midnight

PONDERING THE JOURNEY

Standing on top of the lime kiln silo I pondered my journey.  Adored with hardhat, safety glasses, respirator, overalls, steel toe boots, and leather gloves I gazed to the south down a big valley toward home.  Holding a number two flat shovel which we called a “Red Neck” dragline, I was in an emotional quandary.

Overcome by the pungent smell of sulfuric acid, the distinct odor of crushed limestone, and hydraulic fluid, I questioned why.  The task at hand was several tons of limestone spilled on top of the silo due to the neglect of a lazy or half-asleep lime feed end employee.  Instead of limestone entering the silo by chute to start the process of making lime, it covered the top of the silo.  My equipment to direct the crushed limestone in the silo was the number two flat shovel and a wheelbarrow which we affectionally called a “Redneck Euclid.”

My crushed pride had me feeling low on a high silo.  It was a test of faith and confidence.  I had just graduated from the University of Montevallo with a Bachelor of Arts degree with a history major and English minor.  I had gathered several honors along the way.  I received all this while on a five-year layoff from the cement plant.  The plant included cement, lime, and quarry operations.

The tears from my eyes were from a combination of sulfuric acid, dust, and broken heart.  As I spoke with God that morning, He directed my attention to the quarry wall that was very visible from high above.  It was a mystic moment as the fog from the lime hydrator, dust from the limestone crushers, and exhaust from the kilns created an Old Testament meeting like unto the prophets.

The quarry is in the geographical center of the State of Alabama.  The Heart of the Heart of Dixie is a gigantic hole.  The limestone mined from the hole is some of the hardest in the world.  The limestone was formed from tiny seashells liken to the conch during the Great Deluge.  The quarry walls are layered at an angle.  Most of Shelby County dotted with limestone and lime plants.  Limestone not conducive for lime becomes gravel.

Here is what the Lord taught me in that spiritual moment.  The limestone was once a living sea creature and after the Great Flood settled into the valley in what is central Alabama.  Dead for thousands, possibly millions, of years until holes were drilled into the limestone beds and explosives packed in them to create limestone rocks that can be a small as dust and as large as the Euclid trucks and loaders that haul them.  Once dead, the Dunamis (dynamite) power begins a new creation.

Some of the limestone must be crushed in a primary crusher where some travel unscathed and large ones crushed.  A secondary crusher will continue to size the stone.  Again, some are untouched.  Before leaving the quarry via conveyor system, a tertiary crusher will make the remaining rock usable aggregate.  Some stone travels from blast to process untouched while others were crushed repeatedly.

Conveyors carry the aggregates to the lime kiln silos where I am having a divine moment.  These will enter a fourth crusher, a jaw crusher, that will feed the lime kilns were the stone will be exposed to intense heat to create “quick lime” which will enter a hydrator to make lime used in almost everything especially the purification of water.

Some branches of the conveyor will carry aggregates to a large “ball” mill that will mix in sand, iron ore, aluminum to create the “raw mix” used to burn in the cement kilns.  The kilns will cook the mix to make clinkers which enter a clinker breaker to resize to send to another “ball” mill called a finish mill to crush the clinkers mixed with gypsum into power making Portland cement.  The cement will be mixed with some sand and rock, mostly limestone making concrete to be used in construction.

During my five-year layoff I worked with Alabama Bridge Builders.  I help pour tons of concrete for beautiful bridges that help travels arrive to their destinations.  In process of building a bridge, some limestone was used directly after the Dunamis power separated it in the quarry.  Some limestone faced very few changes, but yet it is used in the bridge.  Some had many changes but in the end all that were transformed were used to help people in life’s travels. 

God was showing me that my journey would involve many times of being crushed and exposed to transforming trials and to be the only one on top of the silo with a college degree operating a Red Neck dragline loader and Euclid hauler.  God had blessed me!

 

The LORD is near to the brokenhearted; He saves the contrite in spirit.  The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit       Psalm 34:18

 

But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed.  Isaiah 53:5

We Hired You for Your Back Not Your Mind

When I started at the cement plant in Calera, Alabama back in October 13, 1976, I was introduced to making cement.  I remember my first day and all the wonders associated with manufacturing cement.  The first thing that my supervisor showed me was clinkers.  He reminded me that cement making is dangerous work.  He looked me in the eye and said, “Hopper, you were hired for your back and not your mind.  Work safe, you may walk into the plant and before the day is done we may have to tote you out!”

Clinkers are made by kiln burning raw materials of lime, iron ore, sand, and aluminum.  Years later I would be a kiln burner operator and watch as the blended ingredients would start a four-hundred fifty feet journey down the kiln.  I trained my eyes to watch the “burning zone” as the powder turned to liquid, then to a clinker as the liquid turn solid as it rolled down the kiln wall. 

Clinkers varied in size from dust particles to baseball size.  They could be gigantic if there was a disruption during the burning process.  The largest I witnessed was four feet in diameter.  It looked like a Volkswagen Beetle rolling toward me.  That’s a story for down the road.

One of my first jobs with the labor crew was helping to tear out bricks from a kiln.  Kiln bricks are 9 inches x 4.5 inches x 3 inches making a circle in a 12 feet diameter kiln hull.  That’s a lot of brick.  Back in the seventies management told us that replacing one row or course of brick cost $125,000 considering all the variables of down time, removal, replacement, and startup curing.

Brick removal is very dangerous.  First a “key” has to be cut in the bricks.  A 90 lbs. jackhammer is the principal tool to cut the key.  The jackhammer weighs more than 90 lbs.  It takes 90 per square inch of air to run it.  It is hard using it on a flat surface and more difficult to operate it in a 12-foot circle surface which 36 feet around the kiln.

Most of the time, about 3 feet high on each side of the key is as high as one could operate the jackhammer.  The rest of the row incorporated a sledgehammer that we effectually called “Percy” in honor of Percy Sledge the recording artist who was an Alabama native.

I had the privilege to operate both the 90 pounder and “Percy.”   One of my first claims to fame involved the sledgehammer.  I had the strength to sling the hammer.  I could tear out the brick but with one fatal flaw.  I would break the head off the handle.  That day I broke every sledgehammer in the plant which was no small number.  My co-workers replaced the handles until they had used everyone the storeroom had driving the cost a little higher.  It is like the man of God replacing the lost axe head in II Kings.

Another time Don, my co-worker, and I were charged by our supervisor, Hubbard, and the plant production manager, Killingworth, to cut a key in the burning zone of the cement kiln.  This area of the kiln reaches temperatures of 2200 degrees and uses a more expensive brick.  $125000 multiplied by 100 rows (75 feet) is $12,500,000 for a rough estimate in 1976.

Don and I asked how far they wanted the key cut.  They responded, “Don’t worry about that, just cut to we get back.”  So, we did as instructed.  I ran the jackhammer and Don tossed out the brick.  I cut three bricks, then four for seventy-five feet key.

Suddenly, Don and I smelled the aroma of a pipe in the draft of the kiln.  Hubbard, which we called” Pawpaw”, could not sneak up on us because of the pipe.  Killingworth, which we called “Killer”, not because of his name but due to an attempted suicide, entered the kiln.

It was a grand entrance.  Killer’s face turned blood red like unto a cartoon character and tossed his hardhat up the kiln in anger and cussing like a Corinthian sailor.  Pawpaw had some unlike Pawpaw words as well.  “Why in the &@!$#did you tear out so many bricks?”

 Our answer was classic.  “You told us not worry about it just tear them out to you got back.”  They denied it but Don that Pawpaw kind of favored said, Hubbard you did say tear them out to you got back.”

Don and I had worked hard without stopping while they were gone.  They were only going to replace 15 feet.  Killer and Pawpaw told everyone that the brick were rotten and that is why Don, and I removed them so quickly.  Killer and Pawpaw had to report to upper management, but everyone in Calera knew they were just covering their very costly blunder.

All they had to do was tell us what they wanted.  We just used our backs and did not think.  

 But as one was felling a beam, the axe head fell into the water: and he cried, and said, Alas, master! for it was borrowed.  II Kings 6:5 KJV

He becometh poor that dealeth with a slack hand: but the hand of the diligent maketh rich.  Proverbs 10:4 KJV