You remember the old admonition about following children or an animal act on the Ed Sullivan show?
Good
morning. My name is Keith Howell; I am
Tommy Howell’s son.
I would like
to thank you all for being here today; especially all of you who traveled long
distances to be with us. Your presence
is a tremendous comfort to us.
A reading from Psalm 119:133 (NIV):
Direct my footsteps according to your
word; let no sin rule over me.
Certainly Dad led an unambiguous
life.
When I think
of Dad, I think of boots. Work
boots. A man’s boots. Nothing defined my memories of Dad more than
his boots.
He spent
time with me. He invested time in me, camping,
fishing, cutting firewood, and hunting.
Well, not hunting exactly; we would take guns into the woods and shoot
stuff.
One might
think it odd that foot-wear is the one thing that comes to mind on a day like
this, but the many things that he did, those lessons learned, that which I
remember most about Dad, those things that were a part of his character, I
learned while he was wearing boots.
But it
should not be so strange when you consider the Psalm 37.23:
“The steps of a good man are established
by the LORD, And He delights in his way.”
I remember
when I was a boy, perhaps I was in second-grade; my Dad came home later than
usual. It was early fall and already
dark outside as stepped through the door.
I was lying on the floor watching TV; the first thing that I saw was his
boots.
The reason
why he was late coming home that day is because joined a volunteer effort to search for a 5-year-old
boy that had gone missing. My Dad and
many other boot-wearing men had gathered, after working all day, to roam the
woods near the boy’s house. Unfortunately,
the child’s body was found many days later in a river downstream from where
they were looking.
Seeing my
dad do something like that impressed me.
The lesson learned is that men, REAL MEN, are supposed to look for lost
children. Men are created to find the
lost and protect the defenseless. Dad
did not have to go look for that little boy, but he did. Because
that’s what men do. I was so proud
of my dad for that. I wanted to be a man like that.
Not long
after that Dad’s union went on strike.
Dad, being faced with no work and having a family to support, went to
work as a common construction laborer when the original K-Mart was being built
in East Rome. The Home Depot is there
now.
He told me
that sometimes we don’t get the job we want; but we need to be thankful for the
work that we are given. And we should do
that work, and do it well. For all work done well, no matter
how lowly, is noble. Everything
that we do is to be done to the Glory of God.
Dad taught us that.
Sunday
The only day
of the week that Dad did not wear boots was on Sunday. All of his life, Dad loved to be in
church. When we were real little, we
went to Wesley Chapel just down the road the house where we grew up.
Dad was
always serious about going to church. He
was even more serious about being at church ON TIME. Naturally, we kids were not. Once we were dressed, we all were glued to
the TV and watch “Popeye” and “Hercules” in black and white. Not that we liked those cartoons, but there
were only three channels back then, so what are you going to do? After the cartoons, a singing program called
“Gospel Jubilee” came on. It was well
understood that the kids should be on our way to the car when “Gospel Jubilee”
came on. There was trouble to be had if the
“Happy Goodman’s” belted out the last verse of “Jubilee” and you were not in
the car yet.
Another
memory from my childhood – There were many Saturdays when Dad would take me
with him when he had to go to the auto parts store, hardware store, or other
places that men would need to go.
Dad would
often take me to the Waffle House afterward on those Saturday errands, on the condition that I would not tell the
girls. Dad said that they would be
upset that he took me (being the boy and all), and did not take them.
Many years
later, after I graduated from college, Tammy and I both happened to be in
Atlanta got together for lunch - at a Waffle House in Atlanta. I figured that the statute of limitations had
run out on promises not to tell about those Saturday trips with Dad to the
Waffle House. So I told Tammy about it. Tammy exclaimed “Dad took me to the Waffle
House too! He made me promise not to
tell you about it either!”
Dad taught us the value of keeping
another’s confidence.
Dad had a
great sense of humor and it was displayed in the way that he would say
things. For example, dinnertime in our
house was always entertaining when Chris got into high school. Chris told us all of the latest gossip about
the kids and the teachers and the highlights of the day. She was hilarious! She talked a lot.
That
prompted Dad to say to her things like: “Sweet heart, if someone grabbed ahold
of your tongue; you’d shake yourself to death before you shut up”.
The real fun
started when Chris and Sharon reached dating age. Dad would frequently answer the home phone
“Georgia State Patrol”.
Speaking of Howell humor, when Dad
was still in the hospital, Uncle Larry commented: “I have more hair than Keith
and Tommy put together, and I had chemo.”
So C.J., Thomas, Allen – hate to tell you boys, but we got the shallow
end of the gene pool on that one.”
Dad demanded
respect for his girls. One young man
came to the house to call see Sharon. He
had on a denim vest and blue jeans, nothing else. No shirt, no shoes. It was the 70’s after all. Now, in his
defense, he called dad “sir” and shook his hand. And he drove a cool car – a blue Cougar, if I
remember. But Dad did not say a word the
whole time the young fella was there.
When the
young man got up to leave, Dad called him by name and said: “The next time you
come here, you need to out some clothes on.”
The boy said “Yes sir” and left – without my sister. You see, the Howells have a policy: “No
Shoes, No Shirt, No Sharon”.
Daddy’s girls are going to be
respected. He taught me to treat women
with respect.
Then there
was the time that I got stuck in my sleeping bag on a church camping trip for
boys when I was 10. That wouldn’t have
so bad, except that the preacher told the whole congregation about it, - from
the pulpit.
I wasn’t
there, (I was at home with a sore throat, having been camping that weekend) but
my sisters were. And boy, did they get
embarrassed when everyone laughed at the family. Steam was coming out of their ears when they
got home they were so angry. Dad was
grinning ear to ear. He said “It was
pretty funny.”
Then there
was the fat baby Tammy baby-doll high chair massacre.
You wouldn’t know it to look at her now, but
Tammy was a fat baby. When Chris and
Sharon were little, they got matching baby dolls and matching baby doll
high-chairs. They thought it would be
neat to put a real baby in the high chair.
These baby
doll high chair were made for baby dolls.
No amount of baby oil, Crisco, 3 in 1 oil, could dislodge fat baby Tammy
from that baby doll high chair.
Dad told me
many years later “I tried to get good toys for you kids, but darned if you kids
didn’t try to tear ‘em as fast as you can.”
When Tammy
was just a toddler, maybe about two or so, she would call Dad her
boyfriend. People would ask her “Who’s
your boyfriend?” she would say “Daddy”.
Then they would point to mom and ask “Who’s this?” and Tammy would say
“She’s a hippy.”
And that is
how Tammy got to be the favorite. Chris
got the brains, the intelligence. Sharon
got the heart, his warmth and compassion.
I got Dad’s good looks.
But
Tammy, Tammy you got to be the favorite.
But of all
the attributes that we gain from Dad: intelligence, heart, looks, or favor –
that which he purposely instilled most in us were his values.
You see, Dad
never tried to be our friend. We had plenty of friends already. Friends we have. He gave us what no one else could give us,
and what could only come from him: a
father.
Dad prepared
us for life. He made it clear that he
did not want us to be dependent on him, emotionally, financially, or
otherwise. He wanted us to make our own
decisions, be our own selves, our best selves.
His goal was for us to stand on our own two feet and be adults.
But more
than that, Dad knew that the principal role, the PRIMARY ROLE of a father is to
point his family toward Christ. Tommy
Howell was a Deuteronomy 6 father.
Deut 6 NIV
“Love the
LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your
strength. 6 These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress
them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you
walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.”
No other
verse describes our childhood with Tommy Howell better than this. He not only talked of Christ, he walked
with Christ.
His virtues
are so seared in our memories that his vices, few as they were, no longer exist
in our memory.
Dad was the
beacon by which we oriented our lives.
He was our true North as Christ was his.
Judy, it was
Christ in him that attracted you to him.
And he to you. We should all hope
to be loved in this lifetime the way that you love Dad and he loved you.
Also to Rod
and Laurie, Dad loved you and was grateful for you.
We all share
the pain of watching such a brilliant light grow dim. The agony of watching Dad slowly slip away;
the origin of all that is best in us, that most intimate portal of humanity
through which God expresses Himself to us, the meaning of life itself – to
watch it slowly draw to a close. It is
painful. It hurts.
But Dad told
me many years ago not to cry at his funeral; for he will be in a better
place.
“What no eye
has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived — the
things God has prepared for those who love him— “So “Don’t
let you heart be troubled. You believe
in God, believe also in Me. Peace I
leave with you; My peace I give to you.
In my Father’s house are many mansions.
If this were not true, I would have told you so.”
Dad now has peace and joy - a joy that can only be known
in presence of our Savior, Christ
Jesus. Dad has peace and joy for all
eternity.
What was it that CS Lewis said? - “Joy is the serious business of heaven”.
So let us be at peace with it; and let us joyful in it.
Dad loved children. He
would have us say to them a quote from Scottish Minister, George Macdonald:
“Never tell a child, ‘you have a soul. Teach him, you are a soul; you have
a body. – the body is but the temporary clothing of the soul,”
And so, when
I think of Dad, I think of his Boots. Clothing
for the feet to walk in the path of Christ.
Lord - Direct my footsteps according
to your word; let no sin rule over me.
The most
enduring memory is that of my dad in the morning, every morning. His routine was simple: He sat at the table
in the dining room, sock-footed, and he read the Bible and he prayed. When he had finished, he closed his Bible,
and put his boots on, and went to work.
So I say to
you now, honor my father. Let us read
the Word, pray the prayer. Walk in His
path.
Wear the
boots.
This is the eulogy that I delivered for my father at his funeral on Oct 1, 2018.
