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Chitose-1954 |
WE HIT IT OFF RIGHT AWAY.
THERE WAS A BOND MADE TIGHT.
WE TALKED OF HOME AND WHERE WE'D ROAMED.
SOMETIMES WAY INTO THE NIGHT.
HAROLD PLAYED THE GUITAR COUNTRY STYLE.
I LEARNED A LICK OR TWO.
WE'D PLAY AND SING SONGS OF HAPPINESS,
BUT SOMETIMES THE SONGS WERE BLUE.
WHEN HAROLD PICKED "THE WILD WOOD FLOWER,"
WE WOULD ALWAYS DRAW A CROWD.
IT SEEMED EVERYONE KNEW THAT TUNE.
HAROLD'S PICKING MADE ME PROUD.
WE WERE SOLDIERS TROUGH GOOD AND BAD.
FOR EIGHT YEARS, THE BEST OF FRIENDS.
WE DRIFTED APART IN NINETEEN-SIXTY-TWO,
BUT OUR FRIENDSHIP WOULD NEVER END.
HAROLD WENT HIS WAY AND I WENT MINE,
FOR MANY YEARS WE WERE APART.
SEEKING OUR DREAMS, RAISING OUR FAMILIES,
ALWAYS HIS MEMORY LIVED IN MY HEART.
WE WERE REUNITED IN NINETEEN-NINETY-SEVEN
THAT OLD HOUR GLASS OF TIME HAD RUN LOT'SA SAND.
THIRTY-FIVE YEARS HAD DRIFTED AWAY.
NOW THIS WAS A MIRACLE. YOU'LL UNDERSTAND.
OUR JOY FOR A REGAINED FRIEND,
THAT GOD, FOR HIS OWN REASON, HAD GIVE
WAS SHORT, FOR HAROLD WAS SOON TO LEARN
HE ONLY HAD A WHILE TO LIVE
THIS NEWS TO ME WAS QUITE A BLOW.
I KNEW WE WERE MEANT TO MEET AGAIN.
NOW GOD HAD A MISSION FOR ME IN MIND,
SO TO MICHIGAN AND HAROLD'S HOME I CAME.
NOT KNOWING THEN WHAT LAY IN STORE,
I WAS WILLING NO MATTER THE COST.
FOR JESUS SAID, "LEAVE BEHIND THE NINETY-NINE
AND GO SEARCH FOR THE ONE THAT'S LOST."
I FOUND HAROLD HAD A HEAVY BURDEN,
WHICH HE THOUGHT GOD WOULD NOT FORGIVE.
THIS MADE IT URGENT, FOR TIME IS PRECIOUS
TO A MAN WHO DOESN'T HAVE LONG TO LIVE.
WE TALKED OF GOD AND MEN NOW FORGIVEN.
THERE HAD BEEN GREAT SIN IN EACH LIFE.
FOR ONE, DAVID HAD COMMITTED MURDER,
SO HE COULD HAVE BATHSHEBA FOR A WIFE.
SO WHY NOT HAROLD, BE ALSO FORGIVEN.
"FORGIVE ME LORD." WERE DAVID'S WORDS
WHEN HAROLD HAD THOUGHT ON THIS A WHILE,
HE PRAYED THOSE VERY SAME WORDS.
IF I NEVER SEE HAPPINESS AGAIN, IT WAS THERE THAT NIGHT
IN HAROLD'S SON AND WIFE.
YES, ON VALENTINE'S DAY, NINETEEN-NINETY-SEVEN,
GOD GAVE HAROLD ETERNAL LIFE.
HAROLD SAID, "I FEEL SO RELIEVED,
FROM MY SHOULDERS ROSE A THOUSAND POUNDS."
RECONCILIATION WITH OUR LORD
IS AN EXPERIENCE THAT PROFOUND.
IN THE FOLLOWING DAYS, HAROLD WAS IN GREAT PAIN,
HE HURT WITH EVERY BREATH.
GOD, WHY MUST A MAN SUFFER SO,
THAT HE WILL COME TO PRAY FOR DEATH?
IT COME TO PASS, HAROLD HAD TWO GOOD DAYS.
IT SEEMED AS IF HE KNEW.
GOD HAD RELIEVED HIS PAIN,
YES, HE HAD THINGS FOR HAROLD TO DO.
HAROLD HAD FORGIVEN HIS BROTHER,
HE NOW RECONCILED WITH HIS SON.
HE TOLD EVERYONE HE TALKED TO,
OF WHAT JESUS, IN HIS LIFE, HAD DONE.
AFTER WEEKS OF PAIN, ON A SATURDAY MORN,
HAROLD'S MIRACLES WERE COMPLETE, SAVE ONE.
THERE CAME A CALL, "GO REST HIGH ON THAT MOUNTAIN.
THERE WITH THE FATHER AND THE SON."
TOLD HE HAD EIGHTEEN MONTHS OF SUFFERING,
AS HE'D LIVE OUT THE END OF HIS LIFE.
THIS HE WAS SPARED AND WE PRAYED FOR HIS CHILDREN
AND SOMEONE SPECIAL, BARBARA, HIS WIFE
HAROLD LIVED FOR GOD TO THE FULLEST,
IN HIS LAST TWO WEEKS ON EARTH, THEY SAY.
JESUS SAID LABORERS IN HIS WORK RECEIVE THE SAME.
FOR A DAY, A HALF-DAY, OR AN HOUR, THEY GET THE SAME PAY.
I KNOW HAROLD IS IN HEAVEN NOW.
THERE WITH THE ANGEL BAND.
PICKIN' HIS GUITAR AND SINGIN' GOD'S SONGS,
AS I REMEMBER HOW WE DID IN JAPAN
IF YOU NEED A MIRACLE IN YOUR LIFE,
KNOW WELL WHAT GOD CAN DO.
WHAT HE DID FOR MY FRIEND, HAROLD,
HE WILL ALSO DO FOR YOU.
JUST CALL UPON HIS NAME.
GOD DESIRES THAT NONE BE LOST.
THE PRECIOUS BLOOD OF JESUS
HAS ALREADY PAID THE COST.
ASK THAT YOUR SINS BE FORGIVEN,
ASK CHRIST TO BE YOUR KING.
HE'LL SAVE YOUR SOUL AND MAKE YOU WHOLE,
AND THAT'S MORE PRECIOUS THAN ANYTHING.
I REMEMBER HAROLD AND ALL OUR FRIENDS,
WHO SERVED WITH SUCH GREAT PRIDE.
ON THIS MEMORIAL DAY, WE ARE FREE IN PART,
BECAUSE WE STOOD SIDE-BY-SIDE.
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Chitose-1954 |
by Jim Brock
July 7, 1997
It was Saturday morning, January 11, 1997 in Tallahassee, Florida. I was at my computer working with genealogy software I had received for Christmas. I was searching for family members in the Social Security Death Records on a CD ROM, a part of the genealogy package. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, I thought of Harold Norrod, an Army buddy who I first met in Chitose, Japan in 1954. I looked in the record to see if his name was among the 60 million names of people who had died after receiving Social Security benefits, between 1937 and 1996. His name was not there praise the Lord. I told my wife, Caroline that I should find some of my orders from the Army where Harold's name may appear. I would give the information to Roy Getz in Melbourne, Florida since Roy had a lot of success finding former Army members by looking in the CD-ROM telephone books of the U. S. A. Caroline and I spoke about that again on Sunday afternoon. I said that I thought I should go up in the attic and get out my records and try to find Harold’s name with his serial number and get it to Roy Getz.
On Monday, January 13, 1997, Caroline called me at work and said, "You'll never guess who just called." I said, "Give me a clue, Army, High School or family?" She said, "Army." I thought for a moment and said, "Harold Norrod?" She said, "Yes, how did you know?" I said, "I don't know, his name just came to me." He had left a number for me to call him. so I went straight home and called him.
I learned, after I had talked with Harold, how it happened from his end of the telephone line. While I was having strong feelings about him on the morning of January 11, Roy Getz, the guy I was going to get to look for Harold, called him in Battle Creek, Michigan. I believe it was about the very hour that I had looked for Harold in the Social Security Records that Roy reached Harold. This is a powerful event as you will see. Roy asked Harold if he was the Harold Norrod who had served in Chitose, Japan in 1954. He said, "Yes." Roy explained that he was making a roster of the soldiers who had served in Chitose and that there was going to be a unit reunion in San Antonio, Texas in September, 1997. He told Harold he hoped that he could attend the reunion and that he would send him a copy of the roster. Harold then asked Roy if there was a Jim Brock on the list. Roy said, "Yes, I know Jim, he is on the roster and he lives in Tallahassee, Florida." He repeated that he would send Harold a copy of the Chitose Reunion Roster. Someone else had given Roy Harold's name and he looked him up. I didn't have the time to look up my old orders and get them to Roy. I didn't know it at the time but God's hand was at work.
Harold didn't wait for the roster. He told me how he too felt an urgency to get in touch with me. Harold’s wife, Barbara, had a sister visiting with her in-laws in Tallahassee at that time. He told Barbara on Sunday that he was going to find Jim Brock on Monday by calling her sister in Tallahassee. This happened about the time I was talking to Caroline again about getting my records down in hopes of finding him. When he got to work on Monday, January 13, 1997, he called and she gave him three Brock telephone numbers from the Tallahassee telephone book, James, Jim and J.
He called James first and my wife, Caroline, answered the phone. He didn't know her, but he knew it was not Pat, my former wife, whom he had known. He told her he was looking for James Marvin Brock. She told him that was her husband's name. He asked if her husband had been in the Army. She answered yes. Was he stationed in Japan? Yes again. Was he stationed in Chitose, Japan? Yes, once again. He had learned the questions from Roy. He then asked to talk to me, but I was not home. Caroline told him that I would be home in less than an hour for lunch. He said, "Tell Jim I will call him back in about an hour." She asked him who he was, because she said, "My husband gets upset when he doesn't know who called. He said, “Okay, just tell him Harold called." She asked for his last name as well. When he said, “Harold Norrod,.” She said, "Oh my God, Oh my God, I can't believe this." He said that he was so surprised by her astonishment that he started to hang up. He thought that I must have said something bad to her like, “I don't want to ever hear from Harold Norrod." But instead he asked what was wrong and she said, "J.M. has been talking about you all weekend." Indeed I had been thinking of him all weekend and later he told me that I had been constantly on his mind since Roy's call. He said he was relieved by her answer as to what was wrong and continued with the conversation. He gave her his telephone number for me to call when I got home.
Harold and I had been like brothers for eight years, 1954-1962. Harold was raised on a number of different farms around Crossville and Cookeville, Tennessee. I was raised in Calhoun County, Florida on a number of different farms around Altha and Blountstown. He was the 4th boy in a family of five boys and five girls. I was the 2nd boy of eight boys and three girls. I believe we understood each other about as well as any two men could. If one of us had $2.00 and the other had none, we had a dollar a piece. We told each other many times that we would trust the other with our very lives if need be. We lived through some rough times together. We fought back to back against some Air Force folks one night in a friendly inter-service disagreement. We were indeed like brothers.
Another example when Harold lived up to his end of our bargain was as follows. It was late one night in August, 1954 and I had been very sick since late afternoon with chills and fever. Our camp medic told the Officer of the Day that I was very ill and that he was not sure what was wrong with me. He told him that I needed to go to the Emergency Room at the Army Hospital in Sapporo, Japan. Harold told them that he would drive the vehicle, so he took me to the hospital in a three-quarter ton truck. My temperature was 104. This was a hard trip, one and one-half hours, for a guy who would have to work the next day. The medic bundled me in blankets because of the chills. He rode in the truck seat with us and it was close quarters, but the extra warmth helped me. We learned upon reaching the hospital that I had pneumonia and I was hospitalized. Harold was qualified to drive but didn't have to drive that truck. We had motor pool personnel whose job it was to drive me to the hospital. He was a cook and was also licensed to drive. He drove the ration truck for the mess hall. Since the Medic didn't know what I had come down with, there was also a risk of Harold coming down with it. The risk was demonstrated when they put me in an Isolation Ward by myself after they admitted me to the hospital. He just did that because he was very concerned about me. He visited and brought me something each time he came to Sapporo to get rations during the two weeks I was hospitalized.
Jim Brock in Chitose, 1954. We were together a great deal during the time we were stationed together at Chitose. I worked nights a lot on rotating shifts. I would get off a midnight shift at 7:30 in the morning, jump in the truck with Harold and ride to Sapporo, an hour and one-half away to get the unit's rations. We just rode and talked, sang a lot of old country songs that we had learned as we were growing up on the farms where we lived. We did a lot of talking about home during those trips and at other times when we would just sit and talk in the barracks or in the Club. He told me of his days on the farm and the hard work that was involved in a hill country farm in Tennessee. I told him of life on the farm in Florida. Although we didn't have hills much in Florida, it was hard work just the same. He said it was hard work just walking up one of those hills. I said, "Yeah, but look at the easy walk back down, we have to work just as hard both ways." We talked about two- mule teams and all the harness that was required to hitch them up. Some of the stuff I never learned to spell until years later, Haimes, breast chains, mule collars, back bands, britching, single trees, double trees, single stocks, steel beamed turning plows, trace chains, plow lines, harrows, middle busters, and etc. We Camp Chitose II, 1954 both identified with Little Jimmy Dickens' song which said, "Mamma raised me from youngunhood on Epson Salts and Iodine, made my britches out of old feed sacks and suspenders out of plow lines. I'm little but I'm loud, I'm poor but I'm proud, I'm countryfide and I don't care who knows it. I'm just like a bandy rooster in a big red rooster crowd, I'm puny short and little but I'm loud."
I told him about the personal experiences I had while growing up on the Red Level plains of West Florida. I remember one night we were just loafing at the bar in our club at Chitose II Camp and I was telling him some tall tales I had learned as a kid. One in particular was about the problems of raising corn in the very rich soil that makes up Red Level in northern Calhoun Country. Red Level is one of the finest agricultural areas in the Panhandle of Florida. It goes like this. "We had a problem feeding chickens on our farm on Red Level because the soil was so rich that we had to crack the corn before we fed it to the chickens. The reason we had to crack it was this. When we fed the whole kernels of corn, the chickens would have to catch them on the fly or eat corn off the stalk. When the full seed kernel hit the ground it sprouted and grew so quick. It would. Also, when we planted corn in the field, it grew so tall and big that when it tasseled in August, the moon had to go around by Alabama. Corn this tall could only be gathered by using pole climbing equipment. The kind used by the R. E. A. electric power pole linemen who worked at putting the first electricity into our homes in the 1940’s. We would strap those spiked climbers to our boots and put the belt around us and the stalk and slowly climb up it until we reached the first ear of corn. We would pull it off and throw it down to the ground at the bottom of the stalk. As we progressed up the stalk, we would continue to throw the ears down as we came to them. This would grow into a pile of corn at the foot of the stalk. Later someone would pick the corn up, put it on a wagon and haul it to the corn crib. Well, one day I had gathered one stalk already and was working on the second one when night fell. I was only about half way up the stalk, so I contemplated the proposition of climbing down for the night and having to climb back up in the morning to finish gathering the stalk. I decided that it would be easier just to lean back on the belt and sleep there on the stalk that night, instead of climbing down and back up the next day. So I did. I slept there on the stalk that night. During the night the wind came up real strong. It was so strong that it broke the stalk just below me and leaned the stalk at a sharp angle. I couldn't negotiate the bend in the stalk to get back down. Now I was in a bind, because I had no idea how to get down from the stalk. There was no ladder truck at any fire station in the vicinity. And if there had been, it wouldn't have been tall enough to reach me. As a matter of fact there wasn't even a fire station in the area. So I decided that the best way to get down from that stalk was to wait until fall when the stalk would naturally fall down as corn stalks do. Well, it finally fell along in November and I wound up somewhere near Montgomery, Alabama. It cost me $25.00 to catch a Gray Hound Bus back to the farm. We weren't for measuring things much in those days, like how many bushels to the acre, or what not. So we never knew how much corn was on that stalk I was on. However, they said I threw down 15 bushels of cobs from the corn I ate to stay alive up there."
During the story a fellow soldier had sit down by us and started to listen. After I finished that one and some other tales, I went to the rest room and he said to Harold, "Is that guy crazy." Harold said, "Ya, he is kinda nuts." Harold got a kick telling about that incident while I visited him in February, 1997.
I have always had a lot of fun with funny stories and jokes of many kinds. One in particular, being from Florida was the one me and a fellow Floridian used to play; we would sit around the barracks and call out the cities, towns, rivers and creeks named with Indian words. One of us, for instance would say, "Uh, chat-ta-hoo-chee a-pa-la-chi-cola we-wa-hitch-a-ka." The other would say, "Uh Huh, with-la-coo-chi sop-chop-py." Someone would ask us what we were doing and we would tell them, "Speaking Indian, you wouldn't understand." Of course we didn’t either.
We tried to do our part to help bring some hillbilly music to the soldiers of 8612 DU, APO 181, San Francisco, California, which was located on Camp Chitose II, about four miles from the town of Chitose, Hokkaido, Japan. During our tour of duty from 1954-57, we rearranged some of the best songs of the day into our kind of lingo. "It Don't Itai No More" came from "It Don't Hurt Anymore." "When It's Soba Slurping Time In Shimbashi" was a take off on one of the street venders songs called "O Soba." Our best ditty was called, "A Story About Japan." We had a lot of fun with that one. It goes something like this right here.
I'D JUST GOT THERE AND I LOOKED AROUND
HE WAS WHEELING DOWN THE GENZA
FINALLY A RED LIGHT STOPPED HIM
AS FATHER TIME SLOWLY TURNED THE PAGES
BUT UNCLE SAM HE DIDN'T KNOW
Some of the guys that attended a lot of our sessions were, Robert "Bob" Fussell, a big guy from Shelby County, Tennessee, near Memphis. He said he was the meanest guy in Shelby County. I asked who was the meanest while he was not there. He said, "My little brother." Ron Johnson from Alabama, Joe Vines from Alabama and West Florida, Larry Stanbro from Pennsylvania, Hank Friedle from California, "Shorty"
Richardson from North Carolina, Robert Weir from Maryland, "Butch" Hubbard from Ohio, Val Riedman from New York State. Gary Salisbury, Club Manager,
who let us sing in the club for drinks, bought by the guys who gathered around to listen and sing there version of what ever they wanted to sing. Guys like "88" Newman, John Yawl, Max Crane, Jim Hager, Swede Larson, Art Staley, Jim Estep, "Pappy" Malanen, Pat Patterson, Don Demming, Joe Swartz, Gene Bierbauer, MSG P. G (SGT Drunk) Howard, John Hort, Moe Nutter, "Doggie"
Bob Weir, Harold Norrod and Butch Hubbard
Doggerel, Jerry Fleet, Jim Tucker, Carl Gunn, Bill Straka, Bill Christie, Don Urwin, Larry Grimshaw, Thom Lawler, Joe Clark, Richard Holsinger and many of the club's Japanese staff.
When it came to picking the guitar, Harold was about as good as you can get. He picked in the Mother Mae Belle Carter style. The most famous song that she and the Carter Family did was "Wildwood Flower." Harold could pick that song as good as anyone I've ever heard. Another tune that he liked to pick and taught me to follow him on was, "The Steal Guitar Rag." Harold and a fellow by the name of Jerry Walker started playing together. Jerry played Chet Atkins style. Harold could follow him quite well with rhythm guitar. After they had been playing for awhile Harold started trying to get into Chet Atkins style. He did very well at it, but when he went back to Carter style he got messed up. He kind of stayed between the two styles for the rest of the time we played together. I learned to play some notes on the guitar from Harold. I can still pick the notes to "Wildwood Flower" but that is about all the note picking I ever learned.
Harold left Chitose in December, 1956 bound for his next assignment at Fort Devens, Massachusetts. This was the home of the United States Army Security Agency Training Center and School. He was assigned to the Dining Facility (Mess Hall) of the Training Regiment. I remained in Chitose until March, 1957, at which time I departed for the same locale and was assigned as an Instructor in the USASA School. It was great to be going to the same post. I found Harold the first night I was on post and we took up where we had left off in Chitose.
On Memorial Day night while on pass we were in a local tavern by the name of the Piccadilly having a drink and listening to the juke box. A lady came in with two girl friends and we asked two of them for a dance. I danced with Patricia Brown, but I don't remember the girls name with whom Harold danced. After the dance I told Harold that the girl I danced with was the girl I was going to marry. He said, "Ya, Ya." He didn't believe me. After the girls dropped us off at our barracks, I went back over to Harold's place and reiterated to him that I was even
more serious about Pat than I was after the first dance. He began to believe me and over the next few weeks he saw very little of me as I was going out with Pat in Worcester, Massachusetts or she was picking me up and we were going out in the Ayer vicinity. Pat and I got married and Harold was my best man at the wedding on July 5, 1957. It was a white tuxedo wedding, at Chapel #2, Fort Devens, Massachusetts and we pulled it off in high style, Harold and I. Pat's parents, Norm and Anne Brown, her grandparents, Ed and Alice Brown, and Pat's sister Diane, (bridesmaid), were part of the party. My family in Florida was too far away and too short on means to come to the wedding. I had a friend taking pictures. I got a 24 pack of slides of the wedding and a week later they were stolen from my car. -- (Can't relate to the significance of that. Only that I wound up with a shortage of pictures of the event.)
Harold liked Pat a lot and we remained very close. Harold had also liked Pat’s sister, Diane as well as Pat's family. We were able to pull a few double dates with Harold and Diane. We did lots of things together. One night while we were out, Harold told Pat about my comments after that first dance. Pat said she didn't believe it. Harold said, “Ya, he said that and he said he would do anything to get out of the barracks." I nearly killed him for that, in fun.
Some months later we were working part time at a furniture factory part time in Fitchburg, Massachusetts. We weren’t making very much so I left and started a part time career selling Kirby Vacuum Cleaners. Harold found another job in Lowell, Massachusetts working in the corrugated packaging industry. In other words, he took a position making paste board boxes, part time.
Within a few months Harold met Barbara Battles. She was a very nice lady who had four wonderful children, Judi, Linda, Debra and Richard (Ricky) and she lived in Lowell. About this time I started seeing less and less of Harold. The love bug got the two of them. As Harold’s love for Barbara, and the children grew. Harold surprised me one day by asking me to be his best man and asked that Pat and I to be witnesses at there wedding. I was elated. Harold had finally decided to settle down. On August 12, 1958, Pat and I were witnesses to the marriage of Harold and Barbara in Hudson, New Hampshire which was performed in a nice civil ceremony.
A most memorable incident occurred at the wedding reception at Barbara's place after the wedding. I had never met any of Barbara's family and was looking forward to it. Her mother and brothers and sister were preparing a cook-out to celebrate the wedding. When we arrived one of the brothers was setting up for the party around a table and grill out back of the trailer home in which Barbara lived with her children. He said, "I'm going to take a shower and get changed. He went around the trailer to the right to go inside by the front door and in three or four minutes he came around the other end of the trailer from the front. I said to him, “Boy that was a quick shower and change.” He said “Yeah, I’m kinda quick.” We continued to talk
for a while. Unbeknown to me Harold and Barbara were busting their guts laughing at my ignorance of what was happening. What I didn't know was that Barbara had identical twin brothers. Finally they let me in on it and I was shocked to see how much the twins looked alike. They told me that they had switched dates in high school and the girls never knew it. It was a great party and I was sure happy for Harold and Barbara. After the wedding Harold and Barbara moved to Shirley, Massachusetts near Fort Devens, Massachusetts. They lived near a lake for awhile and we fished and spent a lot of time together playing cards, picking and grinning, and partying. Soon they were the proud parents of Harold Clifford (Buddy) Norrod, Jr. Buddy was the apple of Harold's eye. Rightly so, as he was a very handsome child with black, curly hair and those dark brown Norrod eyes. It wasn't too long before Lori was born. She was adorable with the same look about her as Buddy, black, curly hair, and dark brown eyes. Now Harold and Barbara had six children. And I mean they had six children, because Harold loved all six as if they were all his own. I learned that he always felt that way after they became a family. On February 21, 1962, Pat delivered our first child, Janyce Carol. She was born the day after John Glenn circled the earth three
times in a Project Mercury Spacecraft and controlled the vehicle with his "Fly by Wire" technique. It was the day before George Washington's Birthday, so Janyce was wedged in between two very famous dates. She was only a few months old when I received orders reassigning me to England.
Harold and I parted ways in June 1962 when I departed Fort Devens, Massachusetts in route to my new assignment in Harrogate, Yorkshire, England. We never were ones to write much, except to our mother. So we didn't write to each other. I just knew I would get up with him again. Through the years we lost contact, but the warm feeling I had for Harold was always there. Once, I had looked for Harold in Tennessee. I talked to a number of Norrods in Crossville, Tennessee. No one knew him. I learned I gave up to easy. Harold’s brother, Calvin lived in Cookeville, Tennessee at the time I was looking in for him in Crossville. Harold said that he had looked for me in Florida, but I was any where but Florida for 42 years.
I learned that he had decided that with his large family he would need to get into something that would be more rewarding financially than the Army. So he left the Army in 1964 and went to Battle Creek, Michigan. He had told me a lot about his big brother, Calvin, over the years. Calvin was the only name I could remember of Harold's brothers and sisters. His relationship with Calvin during childhood was about the same as me and my brother, C. J. So when he left Fort Devens to return to civilian life he went to Battle Creek, Michigan to work for Calvin.
Harold went to work with Calvin in a service station. Calvin told me later that Harold had worked hard and learned the service station business in a very short time. He had all the jobs in the station in the first few weeks he was there. The other employees had come to view Harold as a threat to their security at the station and mumbled to Calvin. Calvin said he just sat back and watched Harold work with the pride a big brother can have. Soon a man from Clarke Motor Lift Equipment asked Harold if he would like to work for them. Harold went to Calvin to tell him that he might have an opportunity for a better job. Calvin told him to go for it and wished him luck. Harold went to Clarke. He started out as a janitor. He swept the floors in the plant. He did it very well. It wasn't to long before he was a supervisor on the line. He finished with Clarke thirty years later as plant manager in Georgetown, Kentucky. He worked hard and persevered always and gained much success in his life. After retirement from that position Harold returned to Battle Creek Michigan where he and Barbara had raised their children. Soon he was at work again, this time at Battle Creek Equipment Company.
I remained in the Army for 26 years. My final assignment was at the National Security Agency where I served my last duty assignment as the Senior Enlisted Advisor to the Director, VADM Bobby R. Inman. I retired at Fort Meade, Maryland on May 1, 1979. I took a job with a Defense Contractor, BDM Corp, in support of the National Security Agency. I went back to Fort Meade as a civilian contractor in support of the NSA. Eleven months after I retired from the Intelligence and Security Command (the Army Security Agency and Army Intelligence Agency now combined since 1976) I returned to that command as a civilian. God was so good to give me a second career with the same command. Having finished my college degree in Business Management from the University of Maryland in June 1978 and my experience with BDM Corporation, I was qualified to be hired at the grade of GS-12. I went to work in project management in the acquisition programs of INSCOM at Arlington
Hall Station. I worked in the electronics acquisition directorates for 15 years and 9 months, attaining the grade of GS-14, before retiring to Tallahassee, Florida on January 1, 1995. We both came a long way from the PFC grades of 1954 in Chitose, Japan.
On January 13, 1997, Harold was at work at Battle Creek Equipment Company when I called him back on an 800 number at work. Thirty-five years just vanished while we talked on the phone. We talked about an hour. He said that he had been in pretty good health over the years, but his hands were bothering him now. He couldn't pick the guitar very well or shuffle a deck of cards. He added that he had undergone some test and would have the results soon, but he did not seem to be alarmed. I asked him to let me know how the test results came out. I told him that I was in pretty good health, a little high blood pressure, a hiatus hernia, and a little overweight. He said he didn't drink anymore and that his only bad habit was that he still smoked. I told him that I was miraculously able to quit smoking "cold turkey" the day I was saved in March, 1974. He said that he wished he could quit. It seemed like just yesterday we had been together at Fort Devens. I talked to Barbara that night and to Harold again. We talked a number of times in the next two weeks.
On January 24, 1997, Harold's son, Buddy, called Caroline from Texas and said that Harold had been diagnosed with bone cancer. Caroline was crying when I got home, only a few minutes after the call. When she told me the news it was like a blow to the pit of my stomach. I called Buddy right back for more details. Buddy said his sister told him that the doctor told her, if his prognosis was correct, Harold had only about 18 months to live. I also wanted to know about his father's church life. Buddy said that his father didn't have any church affiliation as far as he knew and that he did not know if he was born again. However, he related that he and his wife had been saved a few years before and were attending a Baptist Church in the town where they lived in Texas.
Later that night I called Harold's home number. I talked to Barbara first. She told me that they had not gone to church since they were married except to special events. Afterwards I talked to Harold, he told me that he would like to come down to see me, but that he would be undergoing more tests and he didn't know what the treatment might be like. I told him that if he could provide a pallet on the floor for me to sleep on that I would come to see him. It was spontaneous on my part, not knowing what it would cost or when I would be able to go to Michigan, but I knew in my spirit I had to go and encourage my old buddy. He was elated, saying he would give me a real bed to sleep on if I would come on up.
I found a good rate on Delta Airlines for 2 weeks in advance on February 12, 1997. It was for $205.00. Caroline was battling a sinus infection and her eye had bled due to her blood being too thin from coumadin and antibiotic interaction. She decided she could not go. Thus, I made plans with Harold to be picked up in Detroit on February 12 and to be dropped off there on February 17 for my return flight to Tallahassee.
I put together a package and mailed it to Harold containing copies made from my copies of our camp newspaper, the Chitose Confidential, now long since yellowed with age. I sent an audio cassette that I recorded of me singing some old gospel songs and songs that we had sang during our days at Chitose and Fort Devens. I might add that I only sing the clean versions of the songs we
knew back then.
I had told him during our first conversation on the telephone that I was first saved in 1974 and had quit smoking cold turkey that day. He said he wished that he could quit. I learned later that he played the tape for his sister, Betty, who had come up from Cookeville, Tennessee after she learned that he was sick. They were listening to an old country song I was singing, he lit a cigarette and just then I started a gospel song. Betty told me that he put out the cigarette and said, "Can you believe this guy got religion?" She said, "I don't know him." He said, "Ya, he got religion." Betty told me later that she knew something was working on Harold. He had never acted that way around her before. Betty returned to Tennessee two days before I arrived.
Since learning of the cancer, I had felt a heavy burden for Harold and knowing that he was not saved intensified my efforts. I knew that God had made a way for me to be there with him at this time from the miraculous way we were put in touch with each other after thirty-five years. This was further evidenced by the fact that after making arrangements for the ticket to fly to Michigan, I received a letter from Social Security. It was dated February 8, 1997 and I got it on February 10. It informed me that they had withheld $304.00 to much from my 1996 benefits and that I would get a check that amount. The ticket had cost me $205.00. Isn't it just like God to provide all our needs? He knew that I would have other needs on the trip and answered those even before I called upon Him. When I returned I had not received the check, so I called Social Security and asked about it, not remembering that I had initiated check to bank for the first of February check. They told me that $304.00 went into my bank account on January 16. That was just three days after I first talked with Harold and eight days before he learned of the cancer. God prepared the way before we knew that we would need it.
I arrived February 12 at Detroit Metro Airport, one and one-half hours late due to technical problems and snow clearing at Metro. Buddy, his son Jason and Bobby Wightman, (Harold's sister Lockie's husband) were patiently waiting for me. Buddy, his wife Jackie, and their children had driven from Texas to visit Harold as soon as they learned of his illness. It was one and one-half hours drive to Battle Creek from the Airport. The moment I saw Harold I realized that I would have known him had I met up with him any where in the world. He still looked and talked the same. We had quite a reunion. We talked, nearly non-stop, of all manners of things that day and the next.
Harold really liked a CD album of good country music made by my friend, Rudy Jones, which I brought to him. Rudy had autographed the album, "To Harold, a fellow guitar picker, Best of Luck, Rudy." Harold was proud of it. I told him about Rudy, who was an eighteen-wheeler, truck driver until he was injured when he fell from a semi-trailer onto his back. The fall disabled Rudy and now he works only with his music. Rudy plays the most of the stringed acoustic instruments in a Blue Grass band. He owns a little recording studio in Green-sboro, Florida, where he makes high quality albums for artist from all over the panhandle. I had been working on two songs that I had wanted to record for a long time. One was "That Silver Haired Daddy of Mine" and the other is "Mother." Rudy had made me a cassette with the first mix of "That Silver Haired Daddy of mine" for me to take with me on the trip. Harold really liked the arrangement Rudy had played for me and said the song should turn out real
good.
Rudy's CD album is entitled, and a song on it is called, "I'm Just a Man." Harold had told me when he first heard it on February 13 that the song related very clearly the way that he felt. The song goes as follows:
"Lord forgive me, for I'm just a man.
I thought all I needed in this world was success.
Now I know the end draws near.
Lord, forgive me, for I'm just a man."
The Lord always prepares a way to reach a person. Rudy's song was a large part of that process. I called Rudy from Harold's home and they talked for a while. They seemed to have a lot in common and related to each other very well. Harold was very happy to have met Rudy, albeit over the telephone.
Harold liked all of Rudy's music. And he wanted to do something for Rudy, so we sold 7 CD's to Harold's friends and family that visited during my stay. I bought three more and I was able to give Rudy $100.00 when I saw him after I returned home. We later spoke of Rudy, each time I would call Harold. He wanted to get a CD to his sister Betty's husband, George McCormick. George played guitar in Porter Wagoner's band for twenty years and finished his career with Grandpa Jones. Harold thought that maybe George could get the CD heard in Nashville. Harold was trying very hard to help someone else even while he was in great pain and suffering.
Here I was now with Harold and his family. I was glad God had made it possible for me to be with him during this very critical time in his life. I prayed for guidance. My Pastor, at Trinity Christian Center, Russell Skipper, who had been an Air Force Chaplain for 30 years, had instructed me in some things to help bring Harold to Christ. He provided me with witnessing tracks and other literature to take with me. We had been praying for the Harvest in our Church Meetings. We had two bundles (sheaves) of wheat on the Church Altar, representing the harvest. I had attended a Life Long Evangelism Class presented at our church during the fall of 1996. Even with all of this preparation I was still having butterflies. I knew how terrible it would be if I failed. I didn't realize then that I could not fail in the job that was before me. Because, to be a witness for Christ, as the instrument of the Holy Spirit within me, was all that was necessary and He would do the rest. I kept saying that to myself. Yet the butterflies remained.
On the evening of February 14, Valentine’s Day, Harold, his wife Barbara, his son Michael and I were seated at the dining room table. I asked Harold if we could talk about the Bible. He said that he didn't have one. I told him that I just happened to have one with me. I got it from my room and as we started the discussion, I asked Harold if he believed the Holy Bible was the word of God. He responded, "Yes, I do." He further stated that he had gone to church a lot while growing up and was involved with the choir in the church he was attending when he left Tennessee. As I began my witness, God gave me the strength and guidance I needed. I noticed that the butterflies were gone. Now the Holy Spirit took over the conversation and I began to witness with confidence. I asked if he was born again. He said no, and that he didn't think he could be saved. He intimated that he thought he had done some very bad things and that was why he felt that way. I told him about David, The Psalms writer, and his great sin, and then of Paul and his great sin against the Christians as Saul. Next I spoke of me, and he knew me.
Nathan had called David to repentance and he fell on his face before God and cried out for forgiveness. He went on to be a great man for God. I related how Saul (later to be called Paul), during a journey to persecute more Christians, was knocked by a blinding light onto the road to Damascus. Jesus appeared to him in the light that blinded Saul. Jesus instructed him to go into the city to a certain place and wait for further instructions. Ananias was sent to him, laid hands on him and his sight returned. He was baptized immediately with the Holy Spirit. After that Saul became Paul and his letters are powerful works for the edification of God's people. I brought myself to his remembrance, and how I was during our hell raising days. Yet God had brought me to my knees through conviction of the Holy Spirit. I confessed my sin, asked for forgiveness and for Jesus to be Lord of my life. Not only was I saved, but was cured of the habit of nicotine in a single day. I told him that the three of us were saved, David, Paul and I, through the love of Almighty God. I shared with Harold that God had given His only Son so that anyone, including him, could be saved. He asked, "Well, how can you know that you are saved?" I asked if he believed the Word of God. He said, "Yes." I read a number of scripture that say, “if you believe on Jesus Christ as your Savior, then you shall not die, but have eternal life." I added, “All that's necessary is for a person to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. Salvation comes through faith. Jesus has already paid the price for our sins and we only need to accept it.” Harold was convinced and said he could believe that. I said, "Praise the Lord!" Young Michael had entered into the conversation a number of times in support of what we, the Holy Spirit and I, were saying to Harold. Michael said that he had professed his faith in Jesus Christ some years earlier and that Jesus was now his Lord and Master. Things were now getting exciting.
I asked Harold if he needed to forgive anyone who might have wronged him. He related that his brother, Calvin, and he had not spoken for seven years. I asked if he could forgive him. He said he didn't want to call him. I said, "Jesus said we must forgive or we will not be forgiven and if our brother comes to us and repents, we must forgive him. So forgive him now and when he repents to you, you will have already forgiven him." He said that he did forgive Calvin and that Calvin could do nothing for which he would not forgive him. Then I took his hand across the dining room table and we prayed together for God to forgive him of his
sins, and for the Lord Jesus Christ to come into his heart and be the Lord of his life. Then we thanked God for giving his only Son that we might live with him in heaven. After repeating that prayer with me, Harold sat back. I got up and shouted with joy. I gave Praises to God that Harold Norrod's name could now be written in the Lamb's Book of Life. Barbara embraced her husband with tears in her eyes. She was as happy as he was. Michael gave his Dad the biggest bear hug I've ever seen and they both were crying visibly. I said to myself, "It doesn’t get any better than this."
After a few moments of rejoicing, Harold sat back down and looked pensive for a few moments. Then he said, "I feel like a thousand pounds have just been lifted off of my shoulders." He was a happy, happy man. We continued to read the scriptures about how we are to live as a child of God. He enjoyed that very much. We prayed that God would rid him of the cancer and give him peace and comfort. The next day as we were reading from my Bible and Harold got up saying, "I'll be right back." Then he went up stairs. He soon returned with a small New Testament, about three by four inches. He showed me an inscription inside the front cover that said, "Presented to Harold Norrod, December 1941." He had been presented that book for good attendance in public school. His mother had kept it for him for years and later she gave it to his sister, Betty. Betty had given it to Harold about a year before. He had placed it in with his other memorabilia. Over the next few days, he literally devoured that little testament as he read it.
The next day we talked about church and the possibility of being baptized. He said that they had no particular church affiliation, so I called the nearest Assembly of God Church in the area. The First Assembly of God of Battle Creek, at 200 24th Street was that church. I spoke with Pastor Boggs and told him that Harold had accepted Jesus Christ into his heart and that he was interested in following through with baptism. He said that he would be happy to come on a follow-up visit to that blessed event. Harold talked to him on the telephone and found that the pastor was from Richmond, Kentucky, near where Harold had retired as Manager, of a Clarke Motor Lift plant in Georgetown, Ky. Also very interesting was the fact that one of the members of Pastor Boggs’ church, Leonard Shumate, had worked for Harold at the plant in Kentucky. Harold and the Pastor agreed to get together at an early date.
In the following days, Harold told his other children, Judi, Linda, Debbie, Lori, Ricky, Buddy, his sisters Lockie, Betty and his mother-in-law that he was saved. Now that Jesus lived in Harold's heart through the Holy Spirit he was overjoyed. As those in the area came to visit, they would hug me and thank me. I told them that I was only an instrument, that the real Savior was Jesus and that he deserved all of their thanks, the praise and the glory. After I left, his daughter, Debbie, bought Harold a bible with his name inscribed in gold letters and dedicated it to him from the family. He told me about it on the telephone and how he loved his new bible and read it faithfully.
Dear Barbara had suffered from a terrible sinus problem before I got there and from the first day I saw her. She even called to warn me that there was a lot of cold and flu going around up there and she would not blame me if I didn't come up on the scheduled dates. However, I told her that the same stuff was going around down in Florida, so I was more than exposed to it already. As I look back
on this warning, I believe that Satan was trying to scare me out of coming by using Barbara's concern for me. Barbara came down with laryngitis the second day that I was there and could only whisper for the remainder of my stay with them. She had said, during the first few days that I was there, that she had been baptized at the age of 10 years. So, the next day after Harold had accepted Christ, I asked Barbara if she would like to say the Sinner's Prayer with me. She said she would but needed to wait until she could talk. This was said in a written note. She was on antibiotics and was not supposed to talk at all. Barbara did not get any better, as far as her voice was concerned, the entire time I was there.
I drove Harold around to his appointments and we went out to eat a few times. We went to eat breakfast in his favorite breakfast restaurant, The Homespun. We went to lunch at the Cracker Barrel on another occasion. We went shopping one day at the mall, where he picked up bird seed for his bird feeder. We sat around and watched TV some. He loved Auto Racing, NASCAR, with which he could get excited. He tried to pick the guitar one day. He got frustrated with that and gave it up. It made me sad to see him in that condition, knowing how he loved his guitar and the music he had made over the years. I was saddened by all of the circumstances and yet, we spent a wonderful four days together.
On the day I was to leave, Harold had an appointment at the hospital and we were not sure that he would get back before I was to leave for the airport. I used a little tape recorder I had to tell Harold good-bye and to say a prayer for him. After I had completed that, I asked Barbara if she wanted to rededicate her life to Christ. I told her that she might be safe in Jesus now but if she wanted to know for sure, then just say the prayer and it would seal it for her. She mentioned her voice again, but I told her that God could hear her as she thought the prayer with me as I said it aloud. If she meant it in her heart, it would be the same as if she said it aloud. She agreed to do that. We said the prayer together from the same little track that I had used when Harold and I had repeated it on Valentine's Day. As I said it aloud, Barbara repeated it in her mind to God. God is so user friendly; He makes it easy for his children who desire to come to him. She was very happy and said that she would follow through with baptism along with Harold. All conversation between Barbara and I was via notes on a pad. Isn't it great to know that God knows what is in our heart and that we can communicate with him in silent prayer any place and any time.
Fortunately, Harold did get home from his appointment at the hospital before I left. We had a very fond farewell and I promised to stay in touch, as did he. I left on February 17 at 10:00 AM to go to the airport. Harold's son-in-law, John Hester, drove me to the Metro Airport in Detroit.
After returning home, I spoke with Harold and we prayed together over the telephone a number of times during the following week. Then on Monday, February 24, he told me that the doctor told him on the Friday past that he had about 18 months to live. The doctor doubled his pain medicine that day. He said he hoped they could rehabilitate him enough so that he could make a trip to Florida. Tuesday night was the worst of all nights for Harold. He told Barbara on Wednesday that he didn't want to go on living with the awful pain that he was having. That Wednesday night, February 26, I spoke with him again. He said he was in terrible pain and could not turn the pages of his bible due to the pain and nerve problems in his hands. I prayed with him and asked God to give him
comfort and peace. On Thursday he got up feeling much better. He slept through the night Thursday night, having not taken any pain medicine all day that day. Friday was a good day. No pain medicine. He went out to eat at the Cracker Barrel. Harold loved the Cracker Barrel. We had eaten there while I was visiting him. He even had his car washed at a car wash that day. He always loved his automobiles and kept them in excellent condition. Unfortunately, the car wash machinery that day had somehow dislodged a parking light lens on the car. Harold had noticed it only after they at home. He planned to return on Saturday and have them address fixing the parking light. Michael told his father he would pick him up about 10:00 Saturday morning and they would see to it.
Friday night, Ricky, his oldest son, came to visit him for the first time since they had learned of the cancer. Ricky knew that Harold was terminally ill and that he had been saved. Ricky had bought a gospel album by Elvis Presley and they sat and listened to it for a while. Then, according to Ricky, they took down a terrible wall that had divided them for a long time, one brick at a time. Ricky said he went home riding on air and completely reconciled with his father. Salvation not only brings reconciliation with God, but with man also.
Harold got up on Saturday, March 1, 1997 feeling good. He and Barbara had breakfast and talked. They watched the first robins they had seen that spring, on the lawn out back of the house. Harold loved his birds. I had taken him to get bird feed while I was there. At about 9:25 he went down stairs to take a shower and get ready to go with Michael to the car wash to check on getting his car fixed. Barbara was sitting at the dining room table with her back to the wall that joined the shower wall. She heard a thump against the wall. Alarmed she ran down and looked in the shower stall. Harold was down on his knees with his head all the way over on the floor. She turned the water off and tried to get him up but could not. She ran next door for help, called 911 and returned to Harold with Ron, her neighbor. They got him out of the shower and stretched out on the floor, but never felt a pulse. He had bumped his head on the shower spigot but it was not bleeding. His hair was full of shampoo suds. He had died instantly. Now he was in the presence of his loving Savior. The Bible says that when God’s children are absent from their body, they are in the presence of the Lord. This seemed to be the answer to Harold's final prayer. He was rid of the cancer and was at peace and in comfort. God had mercy and spared him the 18 months of hell that he would have suffered with the cancer.
At that same time I was at a men's prayer breakfast on that Saturday morning at our church in Tallahassee. At 9:30 we had prayer and I asked for prayer for Harold as I often had before. Big Clyde Coleman was leading the prayer and we were praying for Harold to be rid of the cancer. It was near that very moment that God healed him totally.
Why I was involved in Harold's divine appointment with God, I don't know, but I was blessed to be a part of it. We knew that God had sent me the night that he was saved. The fact that it was divine guidance that brought us together is assured as far as I'm concerned. The power of God in our lives is evidenced by our works. After Harold was saved, he forgave his brother, Calvin, reconciled with his son, Ricky, learned to love his God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit, was a witness for God to his whole family, wanted to help Rudy Jones and I believe was taken up to heaven as an answer to his final prayer, instead of receiving
divine healing of his earthly body. That brings to mind a gospel song which says, “I’m a winner either way, if I go or if I stay, I’ll still have my Jesus each passing day. I’ll get my healing here below or life eternal if I go. Praise the Lord I’m a winner either way.”
After the Prayer Breakfast, I went to my usual Saturday job as a volunteer Ranger at Hilaman Park Golf Course. It was a beautiful day and things seemed right in my world. I returned to the Starter Shack from a trip around the course and saw Caroline, my wife, and wondered why she was there at that time of the day. She came up and told me that we had a message on the answering machine at home from Linda, Harold's daughter, saying that Harold had passed away suddenly that morning at 9:30 and would I please call Barbara. I went home to call. I had learned of Harold's death at about 1:30 PM, March 1, 1997. It was a shock, but suddenly a warm relief filled my spirit. I knew that it was God's work again. Sometimes we do not give him credit for knowing what is best for us. Every thing that happens, God allows it to happen, so it is His will. He could change the course of history at any moment and with any circumstance. When he doesn't, it is His perfect will that prevails.
When I called her, Barbara asked if I could come to the funeral. She said she wanted me to come and she knew that Harold would want me to be there. She also wanted me to help to locate a Pastor for the funeral. I told her that I would try to come and that I would call the church there in Battle Creek and talk to Pastor Boggs about the funeral. She wanted a military funeral. I recommended that she reach the Army Reserve component in the area. I started to make plans to go to Michigan again in only the space of about two weeks since I left.
I called my Pastor, Russell Skipper, to tell him of Harold's death. And that the family wanted me to go up to the funeral. He said that he felt that everything that had happened had been an extension of our church's Harvest of Souls Program and that I should go. He promised to do what he could to get financial help for my expenses. I called Delta and was told the fare would be $895.00 and that I could leave the next morning Sunday, March 2, and return on Wednesday, March 5, using the same flights that I had used before. The price was very high and would tax my resources. I learned of their bereavement fares for emergencies involving family members. I told them what my relationship was to the family of my friend and I received the bereavement fare of $452.00. Later when the church took up an offering for my expenses they raised $800.00, of which I returned $348.00 to our benevolence fund. The Lord provides.
I arrived at Detroit Metro Airport on time at 1:30 PM, Sunday, March 2, 1997. John Hester and Rick Graham, Lori's friend, were there to pick me up. We made the trip to Battle Creek in good time. Our conversation was in memory of Harold. John and Debra have been married for a few years. He spoke with conviction of Harold's great qualities. Richard worked with Harold at Battle Creek Equipment Company and knew him very well. They related that everyone connected to the family loved him. He did so much for his children to get them started in life. I learned he had been, as a father and as a supervisor, tough in places, but fair, and would not let anyone down when they really needed him. After hearing them speak of Harold, I knew that these two men would miss Harold as much as any member of his immediate family.
We arrived at Battle Creek in what seemed to me to be surreal surroundings.
It was so soon after I had been there with Harold. It did not seem possible. Barbara was a real trooper. She understood that he was in a better land, and yet she was not prepared to see him go so soon. All the children were there with her. I arranged for Pastor Dale Boyer, the Associate Pastor of The First Assembly of God Church of Battle Creek to preach the funeral.
Barbara had gone to the funeral home on Sunday morning to arrange the funeral, along with some of the children. She picked out the casket. It was a beautiful natural oak and the trim was my absolute confirmation that we at Trinity Christian Center had been chosen of God to participate in this miracle that He had worked. In the heading of the casket was a sheaf of real wheat, behind a clear plastic cover. On each corner of the casket was carved three corns of wheat. This represented the harvest that had taken place just two weeks before. Barbara knew nothing of the wheat and harvest theme in our church. It was her way of remembering for Harold that when she had sung the song, "Bringing in the Sheaves” she thought it was "Bringing in the Sheep" until Harold corrected her. She thought Harold would get a kick out of this little remembrance. God is good and He will show us his every way if we will trust and follow him. We have the bundles of wheat in our church to remind us of what He wants of us. We must now go and do his will in the harvest of souls in this sinful world in which we are privileged to walk for a season.
Calvin Norrod came to his brother’s funeral. He said that he had forgiven Harold some years ago. We don't want to be rejected by someone we love, so we don't go to them when we perhaps know that we should. Harold had come down the stairs and asked Barbara on Friday morning if he was dreaming or had Calvin been on the phone. It seems to me that Harold knew in his spirit that Calvin had forgiven him. Calvin said that someone told him that an old army buddy had come to see Harold and that he had been saved. Calvin said that he knew it was Jim Brock, because he had heard Harold talk of me so much. I feel that the Holy Spirit was speaking to many of us during this time. Of Harold's brothers and sisters, Lockie, Calvin, Betty and Joice (Joe) were there. Georgia was unable to attend. Two of Harold's deceased brothers' wives were there also. Like me, Harold had a large family. He had 9 brothers and sisters and so do I.
Pastor Boyer led the service. He read many of the scriptures that Harold and I had read together only two weeks before. His message was to assure the family and friends that Harold had indeed had a divine appointment with God and had been saved and was now waiting for his family and friends to join him in a circle that must never be broken. I spoke after the Pastor.
My tribute to Harold was simply that I had been privileged to have been reunited with a dear, beloved brother with whom I had not had the joy of fellowship for thirty-five years. I assured those gathered that we would make up for lost time throughout eternity. I spoke of how Harold had shown the world how a real man lives by example to his fellow man. I said them that I believed God had smiled on Harold because He was pleased with his life. Being a good man is not enough however, so God arranged to have Harold come to Him in his last days. Then He took him on a beautiful journey to a spot high on that mountain, where he could rest in peace and by-pass the deep valley of Hell on earth, fighting the bone cancer. God doesn't do that for everyone. He does it only for the chosen ones who will hear His voice and do His will. In closing, I said, "So
long buddy, I'll see you again."
Ricky and Michael spoke following me and they eulogized their father in an outstanding manner. They spoke of their memories of him in a way that would make any father proud. They spoke of the love that their father had shown them over the years. They spoke also of the love that they had for him. Ricky told of his last night with his father and how they had been reconciled in love. He told of Harold's admonition to him that the children must come first in our lives. Harold had said that the children learn from what we do and not what we say, so we must set a good example for them. Ricky spoke of the great example that Harold had been in his final days. I know how much they were hurting at that time, and yet they had something to say and they said it with dignity, and with honor to their father.
Pastor Boyer then gave the meditation and restated the power of God to save, stating that we are here only by God's appointment. He said that he truly believed Harold had a divine appointment with God in the events of the past month and a half. He spoke of life as fleeting and can be gone in the twinkling of an eye. Then it will be too late to pray. He then led those in the chapel who wished to pray, in the Sinner's Prayer. The sound was like the drone of an airplane. I felt that everyone must be saying the prayer. I hope so and that they will let Jesus be the Lord of their lives now and forever more.
Harold's earthly body was laid to rest in the Fort Custer National Cemetery, in Battle Creek, near where he was inducted into the Army so many years before. The military honors were performed by a dedicated group of local veterans who epitomized the citizen soldier that Harold was during his tour of duty. He was there when he was needed, doing his level best to get the job done and done right, which brought honor to him and his country. Military taps was never more beautiful, than was played that day. His spirit is now safe in the arms of God and he is singing with the angels. Wish I could have seen their faces when he sang with them for the first time.
I had the privilege of reading the words to the song that Harold had said he wanted played at his funeral over a year before. It was indeed played with the other music of the funeral in the Chapel. It was written by and sung by Vince Gil. Vince had written it for his brother when he died, and had also dedicated it to Keith Whitley when he died. It is titled, "Go Rest High On That Mountain" and goes like this here:
"I know your life on earth was troubled.
Go rest high on that mountain.
How we cried the day you left us.
On his final night on earth Harold heard two sermons, which were on cassettes tapes that were in a package I sent to him and it arrived that Friday. Barbara said that he sat and listened to all of the first one and most of the second. The first one was a sermon by our Pastor Skipper. It was entitled, "When the Bottom Falls Out." The bottom had fallen out of Harold's life, but his hope was in Jesus Christ, where we all can find refuge when things are bleak and dark in our lives. He had come to know God as few men can in the short time that he prayed and read the bible, which was most of his wakened hours. Pastor Skipper’s message meant a lot to him that night according to his wife. God is the mighty comforter.
This whole event happened in the short space of six weeks. We know that our time and God's time does not coincide. So we need to know what to do in the mean time. We asked God to relieve Harold of his great pain now, our time. God waited for a while, God's time. In the mean time Harold trusted his God and was busy. He tried to help Rudy Jones, he read the Bible, he reconciled with his son, Ricky. He forgave his brother, Calvin. He told everyone of his salvation. The redeeming power of God was manifested in his life. He was about Gods work, in the mean time. A life saving lesson can be learned from the wisdom Harold applied to his life in the mean time. The second sermon that he listened to was, “What to do in the Mean Time" by Big Mo, a well traveled gospel singer and preacher. The Holy Spirit had taught him well before Big Mo had his chance. Jesus said that the laborers received equal pay in that the ones who worked the last hour of the day received the same pay as the ones who worked all day. Upon Harold's arrival in the land where there is neither sorrow nor pain, I believe God said, "Well done my good and faithful servant."
If you have read this testimony and you do not know Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, I ask you to repeat the following prayer. After saying the prayer in repentance, faith and thanksgiving, contact a church that you can attend. Ask if they preach the full gospel of Jesus Christ, meaning do they believe the Word of God, the Holy Bible, from cover to cover. When they say yes, follow up your prayer of salvation with baptism. Baptism is a witness to the world that you have buried the old self and risen with your new spirit in the Lord. Never forsake joining together with fellow Christians for the teaching, uplifting support and fellowship that can make you into a soul winner. This we do to fulfill the Great Commission of Jesus, which is to go forth and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Ghost.
THE PRAYER
GOD IN HEAVEN HEAR MY PRAYER. I AM A SINNER. I TURN FROM MY SINFUL WAYS IN REPENTANCE. FORGIVE ME OF THE SINS OF MY LIFE. HELP ME TO SIN NO MORE. I TRUST IN YOU THAT WHEN I ERROR IN MY WAYS THAT WHEN I CONFESS MY SINS YOU ARE FAITHFUL AND JUST AND WILL FORGIVE THEM AND CLEANSE ME OF ALL UNRIGHTIOUSNESS THAT I MAY REMAIN RIGHTIOUS THROUGH YOU. COME INTO MY LIFE LORD JESUS AND DWELL WITHIN MY HEART AS MY LORD AND MASTER. HELP ME TO BE STRONG IN MY FAITH IN YOU. TEACH ME HOLY SPIRIT
OF GOD'S WILL AND OF GOD’S WILL FOR MY LIFE. LEAD ME AND GUIDE ME TO THOSE THAT I MIGHT HELP COME TO YOUR SALVATION AS I DO NOW. THANK YOU GOD FOR JESUS CHRIST AND HIS SACRIFICE ON THE CROSS FOR ME. WHILE I WAS YET A SINNER JESUS LOVED ME, DIED FOR ME AND ROSE FROM THE TOMB AND NOW IS AT THE RIGHT HAND OF YOU O’ GOD. FOR JESUS’ LOVE I WILL BE ETERNALLY GRATEFUL. I PRAY IN THE NAME OF JESUS CHRIST, AMEN
I'VE GOT A LITTLE STORY THAT I'D LIKE TO TELL
I'VE GOT A FEW MINUTES SO I MIGHT AS WELL
IT'S ABOUT THAT PLACE THEY CALL JAPAN
NOW I'M NOT A GUY WHO LIKES TO ROAM
IN FACT I'D NEVER BEEN AWAY FROM HOME
'TIL I GOT A LITTLE INVITE FROM MY UNCLE SAM
I BOUGHT SOME YEN AND I HEADED FOR TOWN
I THOUGHT I'D GO OUT ON A LITTLE SPREE.
I CAUGHT A TAXI THAT WAS PASSING BY
AND IT WAS THERE AND THEN I THOUGHT I'D DIE.
THAT SON-OF-A-GUN WAS OUT TO MURDER ME.
AND I WAS TRYING TO GET OUT THE WINDOW
AS HE WENT AROUND A CORNER ON TWO WHEELS
HE HAD HIS HORN A-BLOWING
AND SHOWED NO SIGN OF SLOWING
IF YOU'VE EVER BEEN THERE YOU KNOW JUST HOW THAT
FEELS.
IT WAS THERE AND THEN I DROPPED HIM
I WAS DIZZY, SICK AND FEELIN' BLUE
WHEN A MAN SAID, "HEY THERE MISTER
I WANT YOU MEET MY SISTER."
I JUST SMILED AND SHE SAID, "WHAT'S A MALLA YOU."
SEEMS I STAYED OUT THERE FOR AGES
BUT I WASN'T HANKERIN' TO COME BACK.
FOR THAT CUTE LITTLE SISTER
OF THE GUY THAT CALLED ME MISTER
MADE ME WELCOME WHEN I WENT UP TO HER SHACK.
SEEMS IT WAS TIME FOR ME TO GO
BACK TO WHERE I WAS BORN AMONG THE PINES
BUT I NEVER WILL FORGET
ALL THOSE LOVELY JO-SANS I MET
THOUGH I WAS ONLY THERE FOR A SHORT TIME.
So weak and so foolish, I know I'll never stand.
I need your guidance to help me along.
Show me the right way, Lord please makes me strong.
I gained that Lord, my life is still a mess.
I've turned to the left and I've turned to the right.
I can't tell my days from my nights.
Lord I'm filled with an awful fear.
That I'll not be able to stand the test,
Up on which my eternity rests.
Only you could know the pain.
You weren't afraid to face the Devil,
You were no stranger to the rain.
Son your work on earth is done.
Go to heaven a'shoutin.
Look for the Father and the Son.
We gathered 'round your grave to grieve.
Wish I could see the Angels' faces
When they hear you sweet voice sing.
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