Brad
Brad and I became roommates our freshman year at Bethany Nazarene College (now Southern Nazarene University) in the fall of 1974. I had been randomly assigned a different roommate, and I believe Brad had not been assigned one at all (yet). For whatever reason, the first couple of days he and I gravitated to the same small group of about dozen or so friends. I’d like to pretend it was because he and I clicked on a intellectual level, but I’m sure he’d correct me and say it had a lot more to do with the females in the group. He and I got along together well, and decided it would be better to share a room with someone we knew and got along with rather than risk Lady Luck. It was one of those random “small” decisions that looking back, was really a major one that molded me the rest of my life.
After we made that change, we found that we shared a remarkable number things in common. We both had moved around a lot growing up, he because his father was a pastor in several small Nazarene churches, and I because … well just because my family moved a lot. We both had a love of CS Lewis and James Weldon Johnson, though as was typical, his knowledge of both was far greater than mine, and his enthusiasm challenged me to keep up. We shared a love of Christ, concern for others, and a dedication to friends. Those things all worked together to form a bond that lasted into our adult lives
But more than all the other shared traits, we both liked to argue. Some would politely call it debate, but it really was just choosing a side to a topic and gnaw and shake it between us until there was nothing left to say. He and I would stay up all hours of the night, and if he was feeling particularly ornery, after he thoroughly beat me in my arguments to the point of surrender (by me agreeing with his view), he’d switch sides and start all over again.
The first time Gini (who eventually became my wife) got together with him and his wife, Karen had to warn her that we weren’t angry or about to hurt one another, that was just our way of having fun.
There’s a saying that steel sharpens steel, and while I don’t pretend that I did much to sharpen Brad’s edge, I know he put a fine hone on mine.
In March of 2007, I got a phone call that floored me, almost literally. Brad had cancer. He was going to fight it, but it didn’t look good. It wasn’t.
This wasn’t the first peer of mine to face cancer, but it was the first personal friend who wasn’t related to me. And it was decidedly the closest personal friend that I had had a long time relationship with. In some ways I felt like I was losing a part of me.
In November of 2007, Brad made it back to the DFW area to do what he called his Farewell Tour. We shared stories and memories. And we talked about out trip to New Orleans after Katrina hit. I asked permission to share, someday, what he had written in his blog, and gave me his blessing. He put the experience into words so much better than I could, I felt there was no reason to write my version.
I saved his words, and procrastinated like I do with most things. It’s now more than 20 years past that week we shared, and I’m finally getting around to proofreading what I’ve written, and sharing what he’s written.
These are his blog entries sharing our week in New Orleans and Mississippi. I’m still surprised at the emotions I still feel re-reading what Brad wrote. Emotions about Brad, about the rescue mission, and about the bond we shared with each other and with strangers that week.
All three of his entries are special to me, but the last one, Katrina Part III, What I Felt is especially touching. If you’re like me, and like to eat dessert before dinner, you may want to read that one first.
Brad passed away from his cancer on December 13, 2007, and I will forever miss him; at least until we meet again.