As time passes, people connect my memory lapses with my age. Which is fine with me. The truth is, I have never had a great memory. To put it kindly, school was always a challenge. But I have been remembering lately. Now that I’ve started, I can’t seem to stop.
He suggested we have a moment of silence to remember those who had died in service to our country. I knew he was serious when looked at his watch. This was not going to be a moment; it was going to be a full minute of silence. Have you noticed how long a minute of silence drags on and on and on? This was going to be a problem for me. I have the attention span of a Fruit Fly and I do not take instructions well. Never did and never will. My individuality (rebellious spirit) especially shows itself when I am in groups.
A few years ago, I attended a committee meeting at our denomination’s national headquarters. Since everyone in the room was a preacher, I was not excited about being there. Of course, since it was our first meeting, the leader announced we would play a “get acquainted” game. After hearing the rules and just before choosing our partners, I grabbed my coffee and announced they could find me in the hallway when this was over, and I left. Rude? Maybe. I believe I did the group a service by leaving. I don’t enjoy such games and wasn’t really interested in getting to know them better. As I said, I do not follow instructions well.
Anyway, back to Sunday morning. The preacher asked for silence and the timer started. My plan was to think of absolutely nothing for the allotted time, which for me, would not be a problem. I had spent hours in graduate school doing exactly that. But two names blossomed in the back of my mind and marched forward. John Stringer and Scotty Hamilton. The war of my generation was Vietnam. That is where my friends were killed (Along with 58, 218 others). I assume John was killed there. Word from his companions was that he was caught up in a monsoon swollen river and never seen again. He was listed as MIA for several years and then was assumed drowned KIA. He went out on patrol one day and never returned. John was a fraternity brother and a great guy. But it is Scotty who sticks in my mind… I cannot stop thinking about him.
Scotty was younger than I. I had been in college a year before he joined me at Eastern Kentucky University. We both hailed from Louisville and were in the same dorm. Thus, we met early in the school year.
Scotty was easy to meet and easy to like. He had one of those open, warm, friendly personalities that attracts people and makes them comfortable. Scotty had a round, pleasant, cherubic face and was just barely overweight… chubby. His laugh came from somewhere deep within and had some giggle lightly mixed in. It was a laugh that compelled everyone in the room to join him. And he laughed a lot. His laughter wasn’t loud but was deep and carried great distances. His laugh reminded me of the little cars some teens drive containing speakers bigger than the wheels. You’ve seen them, or shall we say, you’ve heard them. When they drive by the bass speaker output massages your face and rattles the windows. Scotty’s laugh was like that.
Scott had two great talents: reversing words and playing the drums and he loved doing both. Reversing words meant that Speed Limit became Deeps Timil. He seemed to do it without having to think about it. Come to think of it, perhaps he was dyslexic. That would help explain his flunking out after just one semester. My friend had many attributes, talents and strengths, but being a scholar was not one of them. Unfortunately, his poor grades were the beginning of his journey to a premature death. Leaving school caused him to become draftable. And he was. But I don’t want to remember that part of the story.
Since Scotty, as we used to say, never met a stranger, he expanded my circle of friends with his many new friends. One of his friends was an “older” (By about five years.) woman named Kathy Yeary. She had moved to Richmond in 1961 to marry a handsome and charismatic EKU football player. They had a child (Harvey, Jr.) and then divorced in 1964. Harvey graduated and moved on to bigger and better things while Kathy remained in Richmond. Somehow (I’m unclear as to the circumstances.), she met Scotty and several of us started hanging out at her tiny apartment.
Scotty touched her heart, found her refrigerator, and moved his drum set into her living room. He loved playing the drums – a lot. It was at Kathy’s apartment that I discovered two important things. 1) Love will cause women to do crazy things and 2) Scotty was lousy at playing the drums. Kathy took care of all of us: feeding us out of her meager pantry, letting us sleep on her couch and floor and listening to our sad stories.
The good times were cut short when Scotty’s grades (Or lack of them.) resulted in my buddy not being invited back to school. In those pre "world wide web"" days, I immediately lost all contact with Scotty. It was years later I learned he was drafted, attained the rank of Sergeant, was sent to Vietnam January 7, 1969, and was killed on February 15, 1969. When I found this out, many years later, my heart was broken. His death was the waste of the life of a wonderful person. He is still missed.
By the way, Harvey Lee Yeary went to Hollywood, took acting lessons, changed his name to Lee Majors and became a star.
Copyright © 2022, William T. McConnell, All Rights Reserved
Bill McConnell is a Church Transformation consultant and a Christian Leadership Coach. He is a frequent speaker at Church Transformation events. His latest book on church transformation is DEVELOPING A SIGNIFICANT CHURCH and is available at Westbow Press. or on Amazon.
He can be contacted @ bill45053@gmail.com. Connect with him on Facebook @ William T. McConnell or on Twitter @billmc45053 or visit his Amazon Author Page @ Amazon
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