Andrew

Andrew Ethridge had the kind of story that makes you marvel at the human spirit. Raised as the younger of two sons of a United Methodist Pastor, Andrew knew all too well the joys and pitfalls of being a PK (Preacher’s Kid) but what he did with those joys and pitfalls makes one stand in awe of him and his life.

I had the marvelous privilege of serving with his father at Oak Grove United Methodist Church as Minister of Administration and Missions. I remember fondly Andrew’s large smile, devilish shenanigans and passion for entrepreneurial business ventures. He loved games, sports, fishing, church and family. But what endeared me to him was his love for my daughter, Stephanie.

We relocated to Decatur, GA from serving in Alabama for sixteen years and uprooted Stephanie during her high school years. This proved traumatic for her but like a Creech she rose to the occasion but it was not without the help of Andrew. 

It was his smile, his ability to help integrate her into the youth ministry and joking around with his “Creechie” that made the relocation become one of her fondest memories. Because of Andrew she still has friends from this period of her life.

Andrew was an all-American young man. He graduated from Brookwood High School. He was a member of the marching band and participated in band competitions against Stephanie’s school, Parkview, of which she was a member of the color guard. He loved to fish and has caught more and bigger fish than I ever will. He was a golfer and avid fan of the University of Georgia (Roll Tide!) and professional hockey. He sang in youth choir and was an active member of the youth group. 

Andrew was an inspiration. Four years ago he was diagnosed with brain cancer. But he continued on with life and married his high school sweetheart, Kristin, and earned an Associate’s degree from Oxford College of Emory University. At the time of his death on May 12 he was a BBA student at Emory University’s Goizueta Business School. 

As I think back on our years with Andrew, I remember his goal was to become a millionaire before 30 and he was well on his way before he ever graduated high school. I never saw such a young man with so much passion for being an entrepreneur. He even made me want to buy things he had for sale! But there were some times when his decisions went awry. I remember one time when Andrew and his sidekick, Zac, went a little wayward…daddy Glenn decided to teach them a lesson through hard labor by having them landscape the church flower beds. It was a lesson well learned. I even felt sorry for them on that dreadful hot summer day!

On Monday night when I had received the call from Stephanie that he was fighting for his life I was right in the middle of dealing with some of our children at Buckhorn Children and Family Services who were wanting to end theirs.

I sat down with one young lady and told her of Andrew’s story. The will, the determination, the drive and the passion with which he fought. In Georgia was a young man fighting for his life while in Kentucky one was wishing she could end hers. My heart broke. It broke for Andrew and it broke for her. Oh how I wish she could have met Andrew and heard his story from his own lips.

As ministers, we face life and death every day. No one lives forever but some are just taken too soon. Andrew lived an amazing life. Did he fulfill all of his dreams? No. But he did leave a lot of memories behind. As for me and my family we are forever grateful that our paths crossed his. We are blessed because of him.

When Andrew began this fight we hoped he would defeat cancer. Cancer took his physical life, but it did not quench his spirit...he beat cancer when he did not let cancer take away his Spirit. ---Dr. Glenn Ethridge, Andrew's father

Mrs. Chief

There aren’t enough words that can summarize the life of Mrs. Imogene Vickery. I could mention a few fond memories but that would be inadequate to bear witness to her life. Although it has been some years since living in Barnwell, time and distance does little to diminish true friendship.

Know that what I am about to mention is only a fraction of who Mrs. Vickery was but this is my witness account of her life.

First of all, I have to say, I never called her Mrs. Imogene, Mrs. Vickery or any other variation of her name…to me and the countless firefighters and families across Barnwell County she was Mrs. Chief. And she right deserves every image that that title conjures up in your mind.

Mrs. Chief encompassed what it means to be a woman from the South. She meant much too many people in this community. If anybody knew her, they would know that she was a woman full of life, compassion and love. A mender to the broken, a friend to the friendless, a healer to the sick, a sage to the unwise, a faithful wife to her husband, mother to her children and MeMe to her grandchildren.

She was many things to many people…she was a love of Lake Murray, lover of birds and animals, and a customer services representative for many years. But her fame was really centered on family, firefighters, church and the Eastern Star. Many who were graced by her presence always knew when at her house ask for some sweet tea!

Her love not only applied too people but her love extended to animals. Shortly after Donna, my wife, and I got married we were roaming around in Columbia Mall and found a Pet Store. Needless to say, the sales people did their job and we adopted a little Pekinese pup and named him Sparky.

Growing up in the country, I never had any inside pets. It didn’t take long to realize that an inside pet took animal care to a whole new level! They do not operate on your time, it’s their time…matter of fact EVERYTHING is on their time! But once Mrs. Chief saw Sparky for the first time she said, I want that dog! Donna and I laughed and though she was just kidding but after three weeks of hearing I want that dog! and Donna and I getting up at all hours of the night and in all weather conditions to walk and let Sparky do his thing…we relented and let Mrs. Chief adopt Sparky. From then on, wherever Mrs. Chief went, Sparky went. When he was sick or not feeling well he went to the doctor. Before the end of his life he had more surgeries and medicine than most humans! Mrs. Chief loved her Sparky and she always gave us updates, even after we left Barnwell.

Mrs. Chief also had an affinity for birds. She loved Sparrows. Just this morning the family text me that a blue Sparrow came to her bird feeder and they have never seen one of this type until this morning…just a reminder that God’s eye is still on the Sparrow.

The part of her that I want to focus on this morning is the part of the role Mrs. Chief played within the Tribes of her biological and firefighter families. To know Mrs. Chief was to know Chief, her husband of 65 years. Out of respect she called him Chief because everyone else did but if she needed to make a point, correction or get his attention she called for Lloyd Jr.! To know Mrs. Chief was to know Charles and Carla Ann…later it was to know Mark, Sharon, Jonathan, Stephen and Ashley. Her stories were always filled with her family. From family days at Lake Murray, to holidays in Barnwell and her many road trips…there was always a story to be told. She loved her Tribe Vickery.

She also love her Tribe BFD (Barnwell Fire Department). That’s where I enter the story. In those days the fire department was filled with young men and some old, like Jimmy Baxley, that had high levels of testosterone and very low levels of common sense. It was through Tribe BFD that she was like a second mother to many. Her home always felt like our home. When she visited the first station we felt like we were in her home again! She spent a lot of hour with us and there was never a dull moment. She knew, like any mother, any time we got into mischief and all the details as well. But like a good mother she gave us time to grow and be part of her Tribe and yet, she felt comfortable correcting us or giving Chief the mandate to correct us on her behalf. Any time we were in her presence and she started a sentence that began with Now Lloyd Jr…. we knew we were gonna be held accountable for something!

There are stories from these Tribal days that would fill volumes and in order to be told we would have to be in a location other than a church. But the stories are reflections of her grace, wisdom and motherly love for us to do right the things of life.

But I do however have several I venture to share…I remember one time when celebrating an event in Riley Grubbs life. I planned this outing which involved the Vickery Farm, a corn field, a bottle, some singing and a ticking clock…all I can say about that is it didn’t end to well and I got a good talking to from Mrs. Chief once she found out. There was another incident that involved me and Neal Morris, First Baptist Church, a cooler, a wedding and a trip to Columbia. All I can say is that I took another session of time to learn from Mrs. Chief. One can only imagine the conversations Mrs. Chief and Chief had about the Tribe BFD.

There were times when she would fear for our lives. Like the time we were involved in a three alarm fire in Blackville and the Chief led the way in the burning house with the nozzle end of the hose followed by me and Captain Harry Bennett. Chief was a skilled man and as the second story of the house collapsed, Chief shoved Captain Bennett and me out of the home only for the Chief to get nicked in the by falling debris. When Mrs. Chief heard of this she called for Lloyd Jr. and wanted to know why he made us follow him into the house!

Because of her and Chief many lives were changed and many found the right path in life to journey.

Barnwell County has lost a grand lady. Tribes Vickery and BFD has lost a matriarch and all have lost a friend. She knew the love of Tribe Vickery and it is hoped that she knew the love we all had for her. Tribe Vickery was our tribe and no matter how far we had to drive or how long we had between visits, we always felt at home with her.

She may have moved on but her life lessons, faith and family values will live on forever in all of us who crossed paths with Mrs. Chief. She has left a warm place in our hearts and a smile on our faces knowing that all those that are waiting on her on the other side will be a welcomed sight.

In celebrating the life of Mrs. Chief, we celebrate the hereafter. By accepting Christ she died with Him so she could share in his resurrection. And what illness and aging did to her body, Christ has restored to health and beauty.

We have a special code and bond in the first service like no other. We have special traditions, memorials and a culture of being. While Mrs. Chief was never on the end of a nozzle, she was always on the end of our hearts.

This is our final farewell to our sister in the faith, our mother, grandmother, colleague, friend and community leader so at this time will every present and former firefighter please rise to attention as we salute Mrs. Chief and the Tribe Vickery for all that they have done to make our lives and community better.

Mrs. Chief, we know that your journey was long and filled with much happiness, love, family and friends. We were privileged to have been on that journey with you offering our love and support. We were honored and privileged to share in your life and we thank you for all that you have given back to us. We love you and say, “Farewell until we meet again.” AMEN

***From the Eulogy I delivered at First Baptist Church, Barnwell, SC on April 18, 2015.

Washing Feet

Washing my feet is not one of my favorite jobs; however, I do it because I don’t want stinky feet! Washing another person’s feet is definitely out; at least that has been my thinking. Just this month, a group of faithful folk from Southeast Christian Church in Louisville, KY partnered up with Samaritan’s Feet and visited one of our campuses.

Samaritan’s Feet is an organization that I just learned about. Samaritan’s Feet shares hope with children in the U.S. and around the world by washing their feet, giving them a new pair of shoes, and helping to instill a belief that their dreams can come true. Samaritan’s Feet believes that a new pair of shoes can be a tangible foundation of hope to a person in need.

The children lined up and a volunteer from Southeast Christian called them forward.  One by one, each child’s feet were washed, dried, prayed over and then given a new pair of tennis shoes. Clean feet and new shoes to travel down the road to health, healing and hope!

The images from their visited are seared into my mind. I felt a need to revisit this act as described in the Old Testament and later in the Gospels of the New Testament.

The Old Testament references (Genesis 18:4; 19:2: 24:32; 43:24; Judges 19:21; 1 Samuel 25:41; 2 Samuel 11:8; Song of Solomon 5:3; Psalms 58:10) show that the washing of the feet was the first act on entering the tent or house after a journey. The people of the day wore only sandals, and this washing was refreshing as well as cleanly. In the case of ordinary people, the host furnished the water and the guests washed their own feet.  In the richer houses, the washing was done by a slave. It was looked upon as the lowliest of all services (1 Samuel 25:41).

In the New Testament, Jesus pointedly contrasts Simon's neglect of even giving Him water for His feet with the woman's washing His feet with tears and wiping them with her hair (Luke 7:44). On the last evening of His life, Jesus washed the disciples' feet (John 13:1-16). Their pride heightened by the anticipations of a place in the Messianic kingdom whose crisis they immediately expected, prevented their doing this service for each other. Jesus, conscious of His divine dignity and against Peter's protest, performed for them this lowliest service. His act of having the humility of a slave actually cleansed their hearts of selfish ambition, killed their pride, and taught them the lesson of love.

Martin Luther once said, When you read in the gospel or hear it read that Jesus Christ comes here or goest there, that he heals the sick and raises the dead and forgives sins, you are to understand that he is coming here, that he is forgiving you and raising you from the dead, and healing you.  In fact, this is what foot washing does.  Christ, who ‘had all’ from the Father in his hands, became a servant, and invited all of us to have a share with Him.  Jesus says He is “the Lord and Teacher” and He washes the feet of the disciples, effectively becoming a slave on account of love.  He then says, “Servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them.”  Jesus takes the form of a slave and washes the feet of others effectively making them his master, but Jesus asks them to do this to each other which effectively make the disciples the slaves of all if the feast is kept.  Christ’s first act of freedom is to make him a slave to all.  Consequently, Christ then asks his disciples to be slaves of all as well, today, to your neighbor, to the least of these. 

Maybe I need to wash some feet, what about you?