Making Plans to Move to New York
Although we gave up on Nigeria, we still wanted to do mission work. During those years when I worked with Camp Sunset, I developed a close friendship with Charles Williams. Jim Sheerer was Charles’ brother-in-law. They had been close to each other since college days. Jim had been in graduate school while I was pursing an undergraduate degree in Abilene. Charles and Jim had long dreamed of planting a church in the Northeast. I caught the dream, and we formed a ministry team.
I informed the elders of the church in Belton about my plans, and I asked them if they would consider supporting me in this mission. I gave them a deadline. The deadline passed, and they still hadn’t gotten back to me. Then I got a call from Charles telling me that Truman Spring wanted to talk with me. Truman was the preacher for the Garden Oaks church where I had spent the summer of 1956. Again timing is everything. And in this instance, I think we can see the hand of God.
We made a trip to Houston, and I was offered a job on the spot. Later the Belton church offered to supply our working fund. Looking back on it, it was nothing short of amazing. I knew the elders of the Garden Oaks church, but I didn’t know Truman at that point. Truman was inclined to go with first impressions, and he was rarely wrong in those impressions. We bonded that night, and it was a bond that lasted until his death in early 2008. I preached his wife’s funeral in the nineties, and then spoke at his funeral. Truman had a lasting impact on my work and ministry even though our personalities were totally different.
A month before I met with the elders at Garden Oaks, we went to visit Charles at Tomball. Charles had moved there from Mexia. We got together with the Sheerers, and laid out plans for our mission in New York. Ann almost got cold feet the first morning. They served ice water for breakfast. Not one person in the whole bunch drank coffee except her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to team up with a group like that. While we were there we went to visit some friends who lived in the Southwest part of Houston. They were just beginning to construct the spaghetti bowl interchanges that are now common in most large cities. As we approached them, she said, “I wouldn’t live in this place if it were the last place on earth.” Three months later we moved there in a cattle trailer, and I’ll have more to say about that later. Ann has learned not to say, “I will not do this or that.”
Coming back to Belton, I submitted my resignation with regret. It had been a wonderful place to live, and for a long time I hoped some day to retire there. We were loved by the whole church, and leaving was sad, and yet I knew it was the right thing.
As things wound down in Belton, we began making moving plans. The church was not footing any of the moving expenses from Belton to Houston. We sold most of our goods. We borrowed a pickup from Ann’s father, and a good brother in Belton took his cattle trailer to Lake Belton, washed out the manure, and we loaded our remaining earthly goods on that. Alvin Neuman, our next door neighbor, was a professional mover, and he helped us get ready and then supervised the loading of things on the truck and in the trailer. His wife, Lynette, showed Ann how to pack. It was the best move we ever made. We didn’t put a scratch on anything. Alvin and Lynette have continued to be good friends through all the years.
After unloading our goods, we drove back to Belton, dropped off the trailer, and then drove to Waco, where we spent New Year’s Day. On the second day of January in 1963 we moved to Houston. Thus began the next great chapter in our lives.
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