2011 NOV

Greetings to all on 11 NOV 2011

This month we’ll take a break from the usual theological fare for a personal story.

Quote for the Day
You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood ... back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time — back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.
Thomas Wolfe, You Can’t Go Home Again [1]

Thought for the Day
Many of you know that I grew up in Panama City Florida, “Home of the World’s Most Beautiful Beaches.” After graduating from Rutherford High School in 1971, I went on to the University of West Florida and graduated in 1975 with a degree in math education. My last quarter was student teaching at Bay High School in Panama City, where I was fortunate to get a job there in the fall. Pam and I said goodbye to Florida and moved back to Texas in August 1988.

After my retirement in June 2010, I decided to join the Facebook crowd, not only to keep up with my own kids, but to try reconnecting with some friends from the past. I was able to track down several people and also learned that my class was planning our 40th high school reunion; it would be in late September on Panama City Beach. The handful of classmates who organized the event did an outstanding job. Countless hours were spent planning and promoting our reunion. One of the features on the website allowed us to post biographies. Sadly, 30 of the 388 had already passed away, including several of my friends.

In the movie, It’s A Wonderful Life, Jimmy Stewart is shown by Clarence the angel what life for others would have been like without him. My story is kind of the opposite; I was allowed to realize the impact I had on some of my old friends and students without the inconvenience of death.

By early summer I knew I could not miss this reunion. Although flying is not my favorite thing, Pam purchased our tickets early and we began making arrangements for our five day getaway. As we approached for landing at the new Northwest Florida Beaches International, the scenery was immediately familiar - pine trees, palmettos and saw grass. The small but modern airport is nestled among the pine tree farms around North Bay. Translation: it is out in the middle of nowhere!

We spent Friday driving around to see the sights - both old and new. I had lived in five different houses over the course of 30 years; we located three of them, including the childhood home my parents built. At noon, Pam spotted a hole-in-the-wall eatery, called Bayou Joe’s, down on Massalinna Bayou. Customers had to walk down a narrow covered dock to enter the diner. Well, one did not actually enter it, but dined on a section of the dock that overlooked the bayou. I had fish-n-chips; the fish was grouper - yummy! Several Coast Guard personnel were also eating there; they just tied their boats at the dock and hopped out.

After lunch, we drove back to Harrison Avenue, the old main street. You know you’re getting old when the street where you once shopped now has a plaque that reads: Historic Downtown Panama City! I noticed one store that hadn’t changed much in 40 years, so Pam suggested we go inside C & G Sporting Goods. As we browsed the aisles, I walked by the manager who was standing behind the handgun showcase. He greeted me with “Hello, Mr. Toole.” I was overwhelmed that he recognized and remembered me; Ray Groom was one of my math students about 30 years ago.

We then found Forest Lawn Memorial Cemetery and visited my parent’s grave sites along with those of my uncle Melvin and aunt Ruth Toole. My mother passed away in Burleson in 1990 and we had her body shipped back to Florida for burial, so I had never seen her grave marker. My dad died in 1978 and his brother Melvin in 1989. They bought these adjoining plots back when door-to-door salesmen still roamed the earth.

Late Friday afternoon we arrived at the Majestic Resort on Panama City Beach; this was also the site for our reunion. I attended the Friday evening “mixer” alone and reminisced with several friends including Alan Shoemaker, Greg Cobb and James Wall. Saturday afternoon, Pam and I ventured out to explore the “strip” from our condo to the west toward Phillips Inlet. When I grew up there, 40 years ago, this part of the beach was home to only hermit crabs and hermit people! Now there is an entire “city” made to emulate a small town Main Street of 60 years ago. Adjacent to that shopping area is a mall with modern architecture. From my frame of reference, all of this was built “in the middle of nowhere.” Saturday evening we attended the formal reunion complete with a catered meal and once again conversed with some old friends. I was especially touched by James Wall and his concern for a mutual friend; the three of us used to play guitars together. As we parted, he gave me a big hug, which melted my heart.

Early Sunday morning Pam and I walked down to the beach so we could say that we put our feet in the sand and salt water at least once. After checking out, we bade farewell to the beach and drove back to town for worship at Palo Alto Church of Christ. Bob and Ruth Sullivan were there to greet us, along with several other old friends. My dentist for over 20 years, Jerry Harrison, and his family were among the people I remembered. He and June had three kids who all agreed to a triple wedding in June 1988. Pam and I were among the guests at that amazing event. The youngest, Rex, married a young lady who was my student in 1982. Today, Cathy Rivard Harrison is a wonderful young lady and mom to three precious children. Rex was leading singing that morning and, unbeknownst to me, he told Cathy that I was there. Pam and I were on the back row; I had spotted Cathy up front but had no idea that she knew I was there. As we began the call to worship, she came back to hug me and greet me with “Mr. oole-Ta;” we used to speak pig-latin some in that small class. Emotionally, I lost it at that point; I think I cried through the remainder of the service. Even as I wrote this rough draft, tears streamed down my cheeks. That flashback opened the locked memory gate and suddenly my conscious mind was flooded with sub-conscious memories and emotions. We visited for a while after dismissal and, hopefully, can stay in touch after 30 years has passed by.

We had one last call to make, so late Sunday afternoon we drove to Janet’s house in Lynn Haven. I had not seen her in at least 20 years - way too long. She and her sister, Carol, grew up next door to me from 1965 -1980. Their mom, Ruth, passed away a year ago. Janet has a son named Logan, whom we met for the first time. Since we hadn’t eaten supper, we asked Janet where might be a nice quiet place we could go; she suggested a small Italian restaurant that was close by. While we were eating our pizza, a Florida Highway Patrolman sat down at a table across from us. After ordering his meal, officer Jackson looked over and said, “Hello, Mr. Toole.” I don’t recall his first name but he said I was his math teacher back in 1978. Obviously, his memory was much better than mine! Needless to say, I was once again flabbergasted and Pam told me that Janet was also quite amazed.

I realize this story is long and I’ve omitted several sidelights and details. But if you made it this far, I appreciate you giving me a hearing. For me, this trip was not just a reunion; it was a spiritual journey to connect my past to my present and future. It was revealed to me that I did make a difference in the lives of those hundreds of students that I taught over my 35 year career. No one can reach everyone, but now I know that I touched the lives of a few, and I’m sure many others, about whom I will never know in this life.

And so I write this not only to share my story but to encourage you to realize that you are making a difference for those in your sphere of influence, even if you never know the outcome. What a blessing it is when the hidden is briefly revealed, as the Holy Spirit pulls back the curtain to give you a glimpse into the impact of your life. Perhaps it’s not the planned events, public appearances or overt actions that define your life, but just the everyday living to serve others. It’s been a wonderful life.

May God Bless
Mike Toole
Adrienne Owen, ed.

1. Found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/You_Can't_Go_Home_Again on 23 October 2011