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Living in black and white
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One Sunday while sitting around the dinner table, Louise and I began to tell Daddy stories, the ones that stretched back to the early days of his preaching life. Since I was born 12 years after he “made a preacher,” as our folks said back then, I could only contribute what he had told me about those days not what I had seen. Daddy, raised hard in the Appalachian foothills, had escaped to make a better life for himself when the Lord called and he eventually answered, fighting the calling for a while and running as hard as man can until he succumbs to the Holy Spirit.

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