Hearing and Learning

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By Roger Barbee

            In April of 1963 as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. languished in the Birmingham jail, eight local clergymen published a letter in local newspapers in which they denounced Dr. King as “an outside agitator”, and they ended their appeal with these words: “We further strongly urge our own Negro community to withdraw support from these demonstrations, and to unite locally in working peacefully for a better Birmingham. When rights are consistently denied, a cause should be pressed in the courts and in negotiations among local leaders, and not in the streets. We appeal to both our white and Negro citizenry to observe the principles of law and order and common sense.” Their advertisement prompted Dr. King to pen his “Letter from the Birmingham Jail” in which he explained why waiting for racial justice any longer was not an option.

In 2006 and ’07, Joe Bageant, a resident of Winchester, wrote Deer Hunting with Jesus. Several  years ago when a good friend loaned me his copy, he said, “If you want to understand many people of the Shenandoah Valley, read this book.” I did, and I have just finished my second reading of this fine examination of class in America.

Bageant, who is deceased, returned to his native Winchester, Virginia in 1999 after a thirty-year absence. He moved to the North End where he had grown up, and he found it as it was in his youth–”the most hard-core of the town’s working-class neighborhoods, where you are more likely to find the $20,000-a-year laborer and the $14,000-a-year fast-food worker.”  He continues, “It didn’t take too many visits to the old neighborhood tavern or to the shabby church I attended as a child to discover that here in this neighborhood in the richest nation on earth folks are having a hard go of it. And it is getting harder.” With that, he began listening to what he referred to as “my people”, and they trusted him to tell their stories with empathy, not pity, and brutally honesty as when he writes, “…my people are a little seedier than most;…” He quickly sees that the preferred avenues of escape for his people are alcohol, Jesus, or overeating.

Writing before “the crash” of 2008, Bageant sends a warning as he writes about American Serfs, Republicans by Default, The Deep-Fried, Double-Wide -Lifestyle, and more. He goes to the guts of the working class of the North End where two in five of residents have no high school diploma. He writes of his childhood friend who carries seven credit cards in order to “build up my credit” so that he can buy a double-wide trailer that will decrease in value before he parks it on a rented lot. He writes of “Dottie”, his favorite karaoke singer who lives in Romney, West Virginia. Disabled, Dot lives on her Social Security Disability Insurance, uses an oxygen tank and wheelchair, and is forceful in the way she deals with her doctors. She tells Bageant, “I learned that damned towel-head doctor of mine has only four years of college someplace in South America.” Bageant goes on to explain, “No doubt you [the reader] are wincing at the racist term towelhead.  But people do talk that way, and if we use it as an excuse not to listen, we rule out listening to half of America.”

For me, those words about Dot’s vocabulary are the message of Deer Hunting with Jesus, which is sub-titled, Dispatches from America’s Class Wars. He is telling us, long before Trump and his evil appeared, that there is an entire class of people who are poorly educated, poorly prepared with soft skills, have poor health, possess no or little health insurance, and have children which will continue the cycle of their lives.  Bageant pulls no punches in faulting political leaders locally and nationally,  mortgage companies, our health care system, and others for the condition of “my people.” But, most of all he blames their poor education for their plight. Having escaped the North End, he attended college, fought in Vietnam, traveled, and wrote before returning home. He knows the value of education and knows that a good one will give “his people” a door to walk through.

But Bageant could have been writing of the eight clergymen of Birmingham that I quoted above. We still have people like them who want to proceed slowly in any cause, especially in the area of racial equality. We still have subtle and overt racist.  We still have Dots. Right here among us we have extremes, and it seems to me that we must find a way to hear what is being said from those extremes.  

Bageant sees the lack of education as the biggest obstacle for “his people.” But, the clergymen from 1963, by their plea, show a lack of education concerning what Dr. King was trying to achieve. If they had had a better education concerning the plight of blacks in the Jim Crow South, they would not have written their pathetic letter. If they had had an education on this topic, they would have developed understanding and empathy. Yet they, like Dot, are voices that need to be heard because they tell us what we need to change. We cannot use their language as an excuse to not listen to them.

On the surface we are an educated society. We have degrees. Yet, too often we refuse to educate ourselves regarding topics or issues we find uncomfortable. I often think of Robert Kennedy who in May, 1963 asked James Baldwin to organize a meeting at his New York City apartment with black and white activists.  The meeting lasted about two hours as the invited guests attempted to explain to Kennedy the plight of blacks and other disenfranchised people. The meeting did not go well, but Kennedy must have heard some things because he soon became a champion for all disenfranchised Americans. He got himself an education concerning racial inequalities in America, and he began working  for change. But he first had to sit in that meeting, hearing words that undoubtedly made him uncomfortable.

Like Kennedy, we must listen to each other—the plodders, activists, the uneducated, the educated-all must be heard. In doing so we will work to create a country of purple by blending our red and blue. If we refuse to, we will have a divided house and lose it all.

State Park and Back Update!

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By David Freeze

      National Parks began with Yellowstone in 1872, championed by congress and Presidents Ulysses S. Grant and Theodore Roosevelt among others. In 1921, a group of preservationists and conservationists met in Iowa to begin developing additional parks at the state level. By 1925, all 48 states started to develop state parks.

    North Carolina, like the other states, identified proposed state parks to preserve and protect unique recreational, historic, cultural and scenic areas. Timbering and mining were already causing significant damage to natural resources. The General Assembly moved quickly to designate Mt. Mitchell as NC’s first state park in 1915, with Fort Macon following in 1924. Many of the state’s most notable lakes came next.

    Park development took a giant step forward when President Franklin D. Roosevelt created the Civilian Conservations Corps, a public works program, that helped develop the early state park roads and trails, state natural areas, state historic sites and state rivers. Plans are in place to open the new Pisgah View State Park soon. Currently the NC Division of State Parks and Recreation manages over 250,000 acres and 22 million visitors annually.

    I spent a lot of time reading about those state parks this week and I’m excited about visiting them. Most have an active visitor center and walking or hiking trails. I plan to stop at the visitor center and walk or hike at least the most popular trail at each park. Planned timeline is to begin in the mountain state parks and finish it all by the end of 2024. I already have a framed map and will use pins to denote those visited along the way. There is also a state parks system passport available that I will complete with a stamp at each location.

     At this writing on Thursday, I just returned from my second spinal injury appointment. It has been four weeks since my first follow-up appointment and six weeks since the accident happened. I have been walking an average of three miles a day for the last 22 days. My back discomfort has been minimal recently.

     My spine doctors are at Carolina Neurology and Spine in Concord. On the first appointment, four weeks ago, I parked as far from the building as possible to see if I could walk that far. This time, I parked in the same spot and walked 200 feet normally. Without a wait, the new x-rays were made, and I saw the doctor right away.

     I had plenty of questions ready, but I had to wait my turn. The doctor told me that the healing looked good, and he wanted to schedule our next meeting in six weeks, meaning the second week of August. He said all looked good on the x-rays. I asked, “What can I do in the six weeks? Can I do more? And will it be possible for me to run again?” The last being the biggest question.

                                                                                                                                                                                           I

     The doctor’s answer to that big question was a good one. He said, “If healing continues and all goes well, we should be able to look at you starting running then.” I was excited and still am, but I know it will be starting from scratch. Maybe I can be an actual beginning runner in my fall class. I sure hope so.

     The answers to my other questions were all the same. No, to returning to more normal lifting and farm work, or even arm curls. No, to doing pushups or planks. No, to anything but walking. I can live with that in hopes that running can return. The one concession, not something I expected, was that I don’t have to wear the back brace at home. And he reminded me to consume my protein, calcium and my vitamins.

     For the next six weeks, I will gather my patience and look at the big picture and follow directions. Thanks for the prayers and support again, both of which have kept the healing going!

    Our next local race will be the Run for the Greenway 5K and fun run at the Knox Middle School site on July 20th. Look for it and a probable August prediction run at www.salisburyrowanrunners.org

Count Your Blessings

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By Ed Traut

Psalms 103:2 Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits–

  • We command our natural mind, heart and soul to praise Him, because often we are focused on concerns.
  • It is so easy to forget or to be distracted from all that we are blessed from by focusing on our burdens and concerns.
  • We should recite and remind ourselves continually of all that God has and is doing – all His benefits!

Prayer:  Lord how I clap my hands in great joy thinking of all the things You have done and I have so much only because of Your greatness and mercy to me.  Holy Spirit I pray that You will keep me focused on these wonderful things and not the few negative things that the enemy tries to bring to my attention.  I praise and bless You and my soul worships You.  Amen. 

Saving a Racoon???

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There are all kinds of wild pests that get into our gardens and garbage cans. We had a skunk visit us for a while if you will remember, but this story about saving a racoon just has to be seen to be believed. Listen as Steve Hartman takes us on a racoon adventure… ENJOY!

Just Happy

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Lynna Clark

My sister’s name popped up on my new smart phone. Actually it’s a stupid phone but you won’t hear me complain. Or recite the many ways it aggravates me. No, I am not going to mention how the things that used to be easy on my old dumb phone are nearly impossible on my new smart phone. Like adding my friend Edith to my contacts. Poor gal. Now she has to be Edith because I can’t figure out how to edit her name. Annyyywayyy… my sister called. “Happy Anniversary!” she joyfully proclaimed. “Thanks,” I answered. “But it’s tomorrow.”


“Oh… well happy 50th anniversary tomorrow! It’s a big one!” she exclaimed.


“Actually it’s number 49, but thank you,” I answered.


“Oh… well at least I was the first to congratulate you! Hope y’all have a wonderful day… tomorrow.” “Thanks sweet sistuh,” I replied. I didn’t have the heart to tell her one of our daughters had just stopped by with eggs from her prolific chickens and had already congratulated us. Not sure how people remember these things. I’m not even checking Facebook anymore. But somehow they know that felicitations are in order. Surely they don’t still use a paper calendar like I do. In fact I consider it a fun event to transfer all the important dates to my new paper calendar every January. Yep. I’m still that person.
What’s even better is that my hubba remembered our anniversary and gave me the best gift. He painted our bedroom. Sappy sentimental man. The gift is very special to me because I know how difficult it is for him to get down on his knees to trim around the baseboard. He assured me it wasn’t hard at all. “It’s the getting back up that’s hard,” he smiled that sexy smile and my heart melted. Yep. He’s still got it.


On our actual anniversary we REALLY got hot and bothered. He took me to Rufty’s Garden Shop to pick out flowers for around the mailbox. During the last year or so, I’ve been unable to go anywhere because of chronic pain. Well, except for the doctor’s office. But David suggested that a quick trip from our house over to Innes Street probably wouldn’t overtax me too much; especially if I didn’t wear myself out getting ready. So I threw a summer scarf around my lovely housedress. David pulled into the crowded lot and I was happy to spot the perfect heat tolerant plants. He scurried inside to make our purchase while I waited in the car. After he received a hug from the wife of his youth, he turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. Thus the hot and bothered.


Sweat ran down the back of my lovely house dress. Mama warned us girls to never go out in public without getting “done up.” She always added, “That’s when you’ll run into your old boyfriend for sure!” Well praise God I married my old boyfriend and the last thing on his mind at that point was my attire.

The kind folks at Rufty’s took time in their very busy Friday to help. As they, along with David worked in the heat to jump start the battery, I contemplated removing my scarf. But I didn’t because, you know… house dress. Instead I prayed that the Lord would intervene on our behalf so I wouldn’t have to hitch a ride in all my loveliness. At least I had on my good… flip flops. God heard the prayers of a desperate poorly dressed woman. Eventually we were back on the road for the short trip home to the magical land of Clarkville. It’s a wonderful place, hot at times, but always full of adventure. Laced with sweet surprises like fresh eggs. Plus kind people, and blessings heaped upon blessings. Happy half century to us!


Well… you know… 49.

Ongoing for Change

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By Rhonda Sassano

So many changes.  I feel like my heart will be sad forever.  Changes at home in who lives there and who doesn’t 😭 Changes at work because I’m a newbie and maybe I’m not very skilled at my job yet.  But I’m trying and I want so much to do well and be able to make a difference for the clients!  

This new job has caused changes in so many things.  And I know from experience that a new job means a new schedule and it’ll be tough for about six weeks until things settle down and the new becomes the new “normal.” 

But my aching heart! It’s been six weeks times 3 and I’m still not feelin’ this new normal at all! 

Holy Spirit, what is really going on here? What am I missing?  What do I need to know? I’m generally pretty great with kiddos, but this time… there’s no joy in the relationships. The duty is strong, and loyalty has developed.  My patience has grown and I’ve learned new ways of teaching.  I’ve discovered a whole genre of methodology that is surprisingly effective, and yet, unfulfilling.  Ugh.  I’m at the point that I’m wondering if I should bother to continue. I have enough grief in other areas of my life, I don’t need it compounded by grief at work, too.  

What am I looking for?  What am I expecting? 

Fulfillment.  Appreciation.  Affirmation. Satisfaction. The anticipated by-products of a job well-done. And all of them are strangely missing. Yes. This line of work is definitely not a “good fit” for me after all.  But it’s my only option right now, Lord, so I need to find a way to keep going. And keep depression inside the box. 

This situation is a clear indicator to me that You have a different plan.  And You’ve made me aware of that plan.  I want to embrace it with all my efforts, my heart, my mind and my time!  

However.  

This is one of the few times in my life that my obedience to You is dependent on someone else’s obedience to You.  There’s a whole seemingly interminable list of things that “need” to happen before I can step out of this boat. And so, I wait.  My life on hold. Stretched taut between points of discomfort, pain, and agony. I don’t want to think about ANY of them.  I want You to speak a word and transform them into points of joy and hope and celebration! 

Enough.  Enough questions and wondering.  I don’t want them to bring wandering. 

Understanding is an unnecessary component for trusting. And I choose to trust You.  I know You are good.  You are faithful.  You are kind and merciful.  I know Who You are.  I know Whose i am.  I set my focus on You.  I purpose my heart to worship You, regardless. Yours is the only calling I need to fulfill.  Yours is the only purpose in which I find motivation.  

Take courage, my heart.  Be steadfast, my soul!  He’s in the waiting! 

And I will yet praise Him!

“God is not looking for those who can but those who will.”

Beyond Independence

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By Ashlie Miller

When did the idea of dependency become a weakness? Having several dependents looks good on tax forms. Having multiple children in public will get you lots of looks. But being dependent marks you as “weak.”

Besides, who can you depend on today anymore? Aren’t most of us self-obsessed, entitled consumers anyway? I am of a jaded generation with many cynical observations. 

It is easy to slip into that mindset. Many churches sit empty or near decline because of this perception. We assume that churches are filled with hypocrites that are self-centered. And some are. Some. But there is also a community unmatched by anything outside of Christ. 

I am regularly astounded upon meeting other Christians while on vacation or connecting with neighbors who are also like-minded and our ability to communicate on a level that is unlike any other relationship. We sense that we are more than passing strangers. There is a bond that connects us that is unexplainable and deeply relatable. 

My husband and pastor often says as he looks out on the church congregation, “The answer to your prayers may be sitting in the seat next to you.” I bear witness to it on many occasions. Ladies in my discipleship groups needing direction, a job, or answers for their health share their concerns. God answers their prayers through the counsel of those around them, sometimes with actual provisions. The family suffering grief, job loss, or prolonged illness and disease sees the church family rally around them with prayers, encouragement, and offers of tangible help.

It can be hard for me to admit when I need to depend on someone – trust issues, past hurts, and pride. Yet, when I share my needs, concerns, and doubts with those in the faith, I am blown away by how God meets me there. It may be with a young lady who has yet to experience anything on the path I have walked down, sitting across from me with wide eyes filled with hope, listening with empathy, and ready to remind me with verses she has read and fills her with promise. Sometimes, an older lady senses the season I am in, perhaps recalling her own time in that season, and gives me that knowing look, a hug, and a whisper. Other times, a text appears on my phone: “I am sending you a meal this week. I heard your hubby is traveling, and the week is pretty overwhelming.” Very often, the words from my pastor behind the pulpit, whom I have seen preach to himself or live the message in our home, encourage me. 

Friend, lay aside your preconceived notions that you must independently figure it all out. Even with Jesus as your guide, He regularly uses others to provide our needs materially and emotionally. And He wants to use you to help provide the needs of others. We were not meant to be an island, maybe more like an isthmus.

Ashlie Miller and her husband, Chad, are recipients and givers of grace among their church family at Mission Bible Church in Charlotte.

Chasing Storms

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By Doug Creamer

Chasing Storms

                We drove to see my mother-in-law a few days back. As we embarked on our drive I saw that her area had a severe thunderstorm watch out. I was monitoring things closely and determined that we would probably chase the storms in. The skies looked ominous at several points, but all we got was some light rain. As evening approached, I watched as the lightning danced across the sky up ahead. As predicted, we followed the storms as they pushed their way ahead of us.

                I have often wondered what it would be like to be a storm chaser. I am a weather fanatic and am definitely intrigued by all kinds of storms. I saw in the news that the recent hurricane went through the Leeward Islands with winds at about 150 miles an hour. I lived through Hugo many years ago and we experienced winds of about 90 miles an hour…that was plenty for me.

                Most storm chasers go after tornadoes. I have to admit that I would like to see one someday, but I want it to be way over there, not coming over here! I have watched in fascination many videos of tornadoes and they look incredible. Again, the desire to see one is tempered with safety.

                This line of storms that pushed through where my mother-in-law lives offered us several days of unbelievable summer weather. The highs were about 80, with low humidity and an incredible breeze. I know we won’t see weather like that again until fall. I enjoyed as much time as possible outside, letting the cooling air refresh me.

                Speaking of refreshment, I could really use some refreshing. I can’t point to any particular thing that is dragging me down. Life seems to always be busy, especially when we are in gardening season. There is always more to do than there is time to accomplish everything. The daily demands haven’t been overwhelming, but they do tend to keep my plate full.

                So where does this desire to be refreshed originate? There have been some extra things going on in our lives that have challenged us to trust God. I tell people it’s important to trust God, but how do I do with that when the chips are down? Turns out it’s a mix. For some things I have learned to depend on God and have many testimonies of His faithfulness. For other areas I have had to engage my faith. My pastor tells us we have to stir up and engage our faith when we are walking through challenges.

                He is right, spiritual growth requires challenge. God wants my faith to grow stronger, so He allows for increasingly more challenging things to come into my life. Why would He do that, particularly when He could protect me or prevent those challenges? The answer is God wants to grow my faith. He wants me to trust Him more.

                Some of the storms have passed and He has proven Himself to be faithful. Others are still on the horizon. I see the lightning flashing and know we have to go through them. No skirting them. No getting around them. He wants us to walk through them…holding onto His hand. 

                This has me in an interesting place. I am hungry to be in His presence. I find myself chasing after Him with every spare moment. I want to be in His presence where I know I can draw the strength I need to make it through the challenges I am facing. I know we are going to make it through. I know He already sees us through to the other side. It is my job, our job, to trust Him and lean on Him as He guides us through to the other side. He has never let us down before and He won’t start now.

                I am not sure what things you are facing, but I bet you are facing some storms of your own. Let me encourage you to put your trust in Him. It’s a test and He has given you the answer guide. The answers are to pray, engage your faith, and trust Him. I know it is challenging, but God is in the faith-building business. He wants to get a testimony out of your situation. He wants you to be able to tell others how He came through for you. So run after Him, chase Him, find in Him the strength you need in your situation. He is with you. He will strengthen and refresh you. Don’t let those storms scare you. Your God is way bigger than any of them.  

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

One Small Bird

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By Roger Barbee

Going out our front door, my wife encountered the rat snake on our stoop, at the hinge side of our entrance. She, being an admirer of snakes, quietly closed the door and came to share his presence with me. Every muscle under its black skin was tense from her presence, and there seemed to be a bulge in his middle that suggested a recent meal. We watch it move across our threshold and climb a corner of our house.

Next to the front door in a corner is a plant stand holding a bright red geranium. It is such a well-tended and full plant that a pair of Carolina wrens have taken residency of it. But the presence of the rat snake brought them out immediately and a Savannah sparrow helped as it held a position near the plant like a Kestrel hunting over a field. One of the wrens held a morsel in its beak and darted near the nest then out of reach. The other flew in circles above the scene, and the snake held its ground in the corner of our house. My wife and I, believers in the rules of nature, left the scene, knowing that “Nature’s beautiful way” would prevail. But as I  went inside our house, I was hopeful for the wrens and that the rat snake was just passing through.

As much as my wife and I  enjoy our garden, many pine trees, and the birds and other animals that share them with us, we accept death as part of this life. We realize that we will sometimes find a fledgling that has fallen from its nest high in one of our pine trees—especially after a storm. Some plants that we hope to see bloom do not do well and die or just limp along like the clematis planted two years ago. The bright and cheerful winter pansies will wilt under the June sun. But no matter of all the lessons I have learned in the garden, I wanted the wrens’ nest to remain intact.

For the remainder of the day after the snake appeared, I would wander out to the front door area. I stayed far away but best positioned myself to see if the snake was in the plant. I did not see or hear the birds, nor did I see the snake in the plant or anywhere in our yard. Because of the lack of animals, I assumed that the nest had been violated, the snake and wrens leaving it to compost and feed the geranium; another death/life cycle in a garden. Our front entrance held the silence of a grave.

Gardens can be plotted on paper or in the brain, with the location of various plants thought out for a variety of reasons. Plants can be planted, nourished, and even pampered. Most will thrive, some will not. However, the outcome of the planned garden’s flowering will offer a home to a variety of animals. Most, like the birds, will be seen and heard. Some, like the snakes, will not be seen often. But all will be present and contributors to their local ecology.

This morning when I went to the front yard to ride my stationary handcycle, I was thinking of other things as I turned the corner from our back garden. But regardless of my other thoughts, the notes of the Carolina wren sitting on the back of a garden chair near our front door cheered my spirits. The pair were here. The loud notes announced their territorial presence.

I did not venture toward our front door area, but paused and listened to the morning concert of one small bird telling the world that this morning it was here like its ancestors and for the moment, what else mattered?

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