In Memory of Mrs. Nancy Morris

On Friday, April 17, Mrs. Nancy Morris went home to be with the Lord. A couple of years ago she was diagnosed with a form of cancer that could not be beaten, and she knew that. While they were able to treat it and extend her life here on earth for a few years, they were not able to beat it back into remission and remove it from her body.

Many, outside the world of Mt. Calvary, will not know Mrs. Morris. She was an elementary school teacher at Mt. Calvary Christian School in Elizabethtown, PA for several years and then she served as the elementary school principal for many more years. She served as my 2nd grade teacher. She was serving as the elementary school principal for my 2 oldest boys until her retirement at the end of the 2007-08 school year, so they had a chance to get to know her, too.

Robert and Nancy Morris did not have any children of their own, so she treated all of the students as her kids. She took an interest in them. She cared about them. She wanted to see them succeed. She was proud of them. She was everything that a parent could want in someone that teaches their children. You knew that your children were being taught properly when Mrs. Morris was teaching them. You knew that the teacher had a legitimate care and concern for your children.

For Mrs. Morris, teaching was not just a job. It was not just a way to earn a living or collect a paycheck. Rather, it was what God had called her to do. She took great joy in teaching children and watching them learn. She wanted to see the kids grow, whether physically, educationally, emotionally, and spiritually. That is what made teaching worthwhile to her. In fact, it was under her teaching that I made a reassurance of my own salvation.

From a student’s standpoint, I could see that she enjoyed what she was doing. I realize it was close to 30 years ago that she served as my teacher, but I can still remember her teaching with a zeal and enthusiasm that was real. She was excited about teaching, which made me want to learn. If the teacher was excited about it, then I, too, should be excited about it.

When my wife and I were looking at different Christian schools for our kids to attend, we attended and open house at Mt. Calvary. Mrs. Morris was at the information table that day. While she did not immediately recognize me (as I have very few similarities now to my 2nd grade appearance), once I introduced myself, she immediately remembered me. But it was not just a remembering of my name. Rather, she remembered things that only a teacher could remember. She remembered my parent’s names. She remembered my brothers’ names. What I was impressed with is that she remembered me. I was only one of many hundreds of students that she had taught over the years while she was a teacher. I was not just a name to her. Neither was any other student she had taught over the years.

As the principal, she was not teaching classes, but she still knew the names of the students at the school. As the principal, she wanted the students to know who she was, which was understandable. But more than that, she wanted to know them. She did not want her familiarity with the students to end with just knowing their names. She wanted them to know that she cared, that she was there to help. With Mrs. Morris, you were not merely a number or a name. You were a real person.

Mrs. Morris was a humble person. She did not seek attention for herself because of the position the she held. When she was first diagnosed with cancer and undergoing treatment, she would deflect from the attention she was getting due to this disease and want to know how you were doing. In conversations with her, she was more interested in you and what you were doing and how you were doing. She did not care to talk about herself. To her, life was about what she was doing for others, not what others were doing for her.

Physically, she was an unimposing figure. She was maybe 5’ tall on a good day (while standing on her toes). There was nothing about her, physically, that stood out. Rather, it was her character, her tremendous interest in those that she taught, and her love for her job, that stood out and make her larger than life to me. While diminutive in stature, her legacy looms large over the hearts of those that had the privilege of knowing her. She left tremendously large shoes to fill.

How can her life be summed up? That is hard to do. How can you encapsulate the life of someone who touched so many lives into just a few phrases. I think it can be summed up best, in words similar to those that the Apostle Paul wrote toward the end of his life: A fight well fought, a course well run, a faith well kept, a life lived right, a job well done, a crown well won.

Remembering Ken Culver

Ken Culver was your average guy from Kansas. Other than his boisterous nature, he really did not stand out. He was not famous. He was not an extraordinary athlete. He may not have even been the most attractive guy. However, he was a great human being and a tremendous friend.

Ken Culver was supposed to be married on December 16, 2000 to Melissa Delaney. However, an unfortunate accident on December 9, one week before his wedding was to take place, took the life of one of the greatest friends I have ever had.

I first met Ken while I was in college. It was the Spring, 1993 semester at Bob Jones University. I sat out the Fall semester to earn some money. When I returned, there was a freshman there who thought he knew everything. He was loud. He was somewhat obnoxious (or so I thought). It was Ken, at his finest.

As I worked with him at the Dining Common, we started to become friends. Over the course of the next couple of years, we became best friends. After he graduated, he stayed at Bob Jones University as Dining Common staff in the bakery. It was through his work at the Dining Common that he earned his CDL.

Pam and I were going to get married in July, 1996. I asked Ken if he would be my best man. We were best friends, and he was on staff with my soon-to-be wife. He accepted the invitation. It was almost like old times again when he arrived in North Carolina for the wedding. In fact, there is still a picture out there, somewhere, of Ken and I lighting the unity candle. Don't ask me why. It just seemed like something hilarious to do at the time (it was during picture time, not during the ceremony).

Anyway, after a couple of years of work at the Dining Common, he started to work as a cross country tractor trailer driver. He travelled all over the place. He would stop by our house at times on his way through town. I enjoyed his e-mails from all over the place. He started to publish his 'Trucker's Newsletter.' It was a humorous look at his life on the road.

One time, he called us to let us know he was coming through town and would like to stop by. I informed him that, unfortunately, we had committed to helping some friends move that weekend. Instead of blowing through town, he offered to help. He had a few days yet to reach his destination, and would rather help out than get to his destination early and sit, waiting to unload his trailer. He did not know these friends of ours from the man in the moon, but he was more than willing to help. He drove the moving truck. He moved a lot of furniture. That was Ken, just wanting to help other people.

However, this life on the road did take its toll on him. He took a job in South Carolina, working for a friend who was in the tree removal business. He liked this work. One day, he called me, and I could tell he was more excited than normal. He told me that he got engaged. He was so happy. He asked me to be in his wedding. Of course, I accepted.

We stayed in contact over the next several months. After all, I needed the details of where we were getting the tuxedos, when the wedding would be, when we would be there.

As we were making final preparations, I received a call from a mutual friend. It was Sunday, December 10, which was 6 days before the wedding. This friend called to let me know that Ken was killed in a work-related accident. At the time, I did not know how to take it. I thought this might be a joke. But who would joke about this?

I got on the internet to look this up. I needed to be sure about this. When I checked my e-mail, my old college roommate left me a message about this. He was familiar with the situation, and he wanted to let me know. I found the article in the Greenville, SC newspaper.

I then realized that Ken was gone. I had lost my grandparents before this, but this was different. My grandparents had lived a full life. There deaths were somewhat expected. Ken was young. He had a new life to look forward to as he was going to be married. All of that was gone in an instant. It was a lethal blow from a falling tree. He did not suffer. It was instantaneous.

I struggled with my feelings. Did this really happen? Why? He was young. He was a great guy. He was always willing to help others. How could this happen to him?

I was informed that there would be a memorial service in South Carolina for Ken on December 17. At first, I was not going to go. However, since we had already made plans to be in South Carolina, we decided to go. And I am glad we did.

We had a chance to connect with friends from college. We were a huge group of people coming together to remember the life of a young man who we were all friends with. Several people spoke of how great a friend he was, always willing to help out in times of need.

As I look back at the life of Ken, I realize that he is not here on earth. I cannot call him and talk to him. We will never get to spend time together again on the golf course (and was that ever an experience!). I do know, however, that I will be seeing him again. He may not be here on earth, but he is in heaven, where I will have a chance to see him once again.

You see, his time on earth was done. God had another reason for taking him, one that I will not understand until I see Him. That does not mean that I cannot miss Ken. He was like another brother to me (but I go along much better with Ken). He was my friend, something I will cherish for all time.

Ken - We miss you.