Greg Surratt

Why I love my job (Grandpa)

A very sweet ear of corn trying to get a sip from a scarecrow.

A tribute to my father-in-law

 

I finally officially met King Herrington sometime during the summer of 1972.  Until that point he was just a voice that answered the phone in the small white house he’d lived in for 22 years at that point.  I’d become quite fond of dialing his number, actually.  I’d call two, three, sometimes four times a day.  Not so much to talk to King…there was someone else in the house I was interested in.  But, more often than not, it was his voice I’d hear when the ringing ended on the other end of the line.

”Hello”, he’d say.

“Is Debbie there?”, I’d ask.

“Hang on, I’ll get her”.

That was it.  The extent of our relationship was 9 words exchanged between two total strangers…repeated over and over again, several times a week.  Never varied much…not a “How about them Broncos?”…or “Did it snow much on your side of town last night?”

Just right to the point…both doing our job.  Him answering the question and me trying to get past the operator as quickly as I could.

When we finally met, it was obvious to both of us that we were from two very different places in life.  I was a long haired kid with stars in my eyes, holes in my bell bottom jeans, flip flops on my feet, and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young in my eight track player, He was a hard working man with his feet firmly planted on the ground.  Those feet, by the way, could usually be found in a pair of steal toed boots, accompanied by green work pants and a matching shirt.  Not a lot of flash, but heavy on consistency.  He didn’t have an eight track, but if he did you’d probably find Lawrence Welk blaring through the speakers.

We were very different.  About the only thing we shared in common was a fondness for his oldest daughter, Debbie.  I’m not sure what he thought when he got his first glimpse of the guy that would later become his son-in-law.  Whatever it was, he thankfully kept it too himself. 

Sometimes it’s hard to appreciate different.  It’s taken me a lifetime to fully appreciate the value that King’s life brought to my life and our family.  I’ve always respected him, but in the last few years I’ve come to really cherish the qualities in my father-in-law that I see being naturally reproduced in his kids and grandchildren. 

King Herrington was a part of what Tom Brokaw lovingly calls the “Greatest Generation” in his book by the same title.  A generation that quite literally saved our nation and shaped our values so that we and our children can celebrate the freedoms that we so often take for granted.

King was born in 1921 on the plains of Eastern Colorado.  His mother, Bessie, was a school teacher and his father Leonard, was a farmer.  King and his younger brother, Sam, and younger sister, Betty came of age during the Great Depression, a time of economic despair unrivaled in our history.  Added on top of that was the great dust bowl of the 30’s, when so much dirt covered eastern Colorado, western Kansas, and northwest Oklahoma, that Timothy Egan wrote a book calling it the “Worst Hard Time”.

King and his friends watched as families lost businesses, jobs, family farms, and finally, hope.  Then when things started to turn around, the great war broke out in Europe.  When the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, Americans lost a sense of innocence and security that comes from knowing that those things just don’t happen in our homeland. 

In 1942 King answered the call to help save the world from what Brokaw calls the two most powerful military machines ever assembled.  His part was building and repairing the planes that were crucial in preserving our freedom.  Against all odds, his generation succeeded…and the world narrowly avoided the consequences of domination by an evil tyrant.

So King and his friends came home…wise beyond their years.  A wisdom born of the times they lived through.

Shortly after that he met and married Willa Mae (Polly) Fickel.  They bought and moved into their first and only home almost fifty-eight years ago and immediately began to produce little Baby Boomers.  First Terry, then Debbie, then Kristy, and finally Nancy, God’s wonderful surprise, who could be found on daddy’s lap most times I came to visit.  The Germans and Japanese were nothing compared to the assault those girls could put on a fathers heart and pocket book.  He acted tough, but cratered pretty quickly when the pressure was on.

Through out his life, King stayed true to the shared values of his generation, the greatest generation: Duty, honor, faith, and personal responsibility.

He joined Aurora 1^st Assembly of God Church in 1952 and never shopped for another one.  He worked for Frontier Airlines for 27 years and never took a sick day.  He was faithful to his God, his wife, his family, his country and his work.  He didn’t make a big deal of it…he didn’t need a medal…he just did it.  That’s what was expected and that’s what was given…not just most day’s, but every single day of his life.

He wasn’t perfect, nobody is.  But if God graded on a curve, let’s just say I wouldn’t want him in my class.

When King got close to retirement, he started collecting things.  All kind of things: Tools, arrowheads, railroad nails, rattlesnake tails and barbed wire, just to name a few.  His collecting led to cataloging, and cataloging to displaying, and displaying to competing…until King’s collections became famous throughout the Southwest.  He’d load up a few boards of barbwire displays into the camper truck and he and Polly would go to a show in some small town that celebrated the fencing of the American West.  Invariably he would bring home the “best of show” prize along with more than a few tools or pieces of wire that he had negotiated a poor unsuspecting newby out of.  He even made an industry out of reproduced wire.  He would find a picture of a rare piece and then go home and manufacture a replica in his workshop that collectors would gladly part with some hard earned cash for.  King was always happy to take their money, more for the sport of it than anything else. 

King could make anything.  He was one of the few men I know that considered a purchase from the hardware store a waste of time and money.  Why buy it, when you can make it…out of what you have laying around at the time?  Amazing.  That’s a gift I’ll never have.

A few years ago King’s peers inducted him into the Barbed Wire Hall of Fame.  His collections are known as being among the best in the world.  Think about that for a minute.  About the best most of us can expect is to be good at what we do.  A few actually become very good.  A select few become extremely good.  And only a handful of people that you will meet in a lifetime will ever become the best in the world at anything.  King Herrington was one of them.  The best in the world.

A couple of years ago I brought my boys to spend a week in Colorado.  Toward the end of our stay, they talked their grandfather into pulling a few display boards out of the garage and telling the story behind the fencing of the West.  I watched in amazement, as for over an hour the Michael Jordan of barbed wire held court and shared his passion with another generation. It’s a priceless memory that they will carry with them forever.

As it became apparent in the last few years that King’s health was failing and his time on earth was approaching an end, we all began to treasure even more deeply the gift that God had allowed us to share for these 87 years.  When our family would come to Colorado for a visit, as the time for us to leave would approach, you knew that he knew… You could see it in his eyes, and hear it in the quiver of his voice…this might be the last goodbye.  There was a sadness that he felt that came with the knowledge of his own mortality.

Today, we have that look, I see it in your eyes…and our voices struggle to keep from betraying the sadness that we feel.  He’s gone.  There are pieces of him that will remain in our hearts everyday, and glimmers of his personality that we see in our children and grandchildren.

He is gone…but not forever.

In times like these we can cling to the words of Paul the Apostle

1 Thessalonians 4:13 - 14 (TEV) ¹³Our friends, we want you to know the truth about those who have died, so that you will not be sad, as are those who have no hope. ¹⁴We believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will take back with Jesus those who have died believing in him.

We grieve today, as we should, but not like those who have no hope.  We have hope.  For a Christian, death is not the final word…it’s just the beginning of eternal life in Christ.  It’s a transition into eternity.

You know, there’s a lot of talk about mansions in heaven…I’m not sure King would be into that kind of thing.  He’s probably in a little white house somewhere, busy paneling the basement…getting it ready for a good long stay this time.  And whoever’s working with him on it right now, is probably hearing a story about the time he bargained with a guy for a piece of barbed wire at a show in Kansas somewhere.  About how the guy never knew what hit him when the crafty collector from Colorado talked him out of his prize possession.

I’ve heard that story, and many like it…and I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to hearing it again someday. 

We love you King…we’ll see you soon. 

Lighting the way

One of the reasons we love Maine in the summertime.

Two pretty girls

Our first time babysitting Addison Grace by ourselves turned into a photo shoot...

Addison Grace

The Surratts welcome a brand new Cubs fan to the family!  Her name is Addison Grace and she was born on Sunday evening at 7:10 (just as her proud grandpa was wrapping up the 6:15 service).  She is 6 pounds 8 ounces of unlimited potential and may very well be the prettiest baby in the hospital!  If you would like to see for yourself...go here.

Congratulations Jason and Jenna...you did good!

It doesn't get much better than this

  Here's my favorite Cubs fan!

We celebrated with a little fishing, South Carolina style...

He's here!

Miles Joshua Surratt arrived today at 2:10pm.  Those that saw him think that he may be the best looking kid ever born.  Josh and Lisa are good...grandpa and grams are elated.

Vital stats:  6 pounds, 11 ounces; 19 inches long

Governor Sanford, You Can Make A Difference

I had the privilege of speaking at the Prayer service for the Inauguration of Governor Mark Sanford on Wednesday, January 10.  Here are the notes from that service as well as some newspaper coverage from around the state.

Download 2007_governors_inauguration_prayer_service.pdf

Highs and Lows

This week I have experienced some of  life’s highs and one of life’s lowest low’s.

First the highs:

• Last weekend over 8,000 people experienced God at Seacoast Church!  What a great way to start the New Year.  Many of our campuses were full and overflowing.  For those at the Long Point campus, people were turned away from the main worship center at the 9:30 service.  We ran out of seats, worship guides and parking for both Sunday worship times.  Let’s work together to make sure that we don’t have to turn people away this weekend.  I’ll make sure we have more worship guides and additional seating will be available in the Chapel at 11:15 am beginning January 21st.

***Here is your part.  Can you commit to come to Saturday night at 6:15 or go to the Chapel or the Warehouse on Sunday if at all possible? Your commitment to this will help those who are new get a seat in the Worship Center.***

• We started our new series, “New & Improved”.  This is a verse by verse study of the book of Ephesians.  I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. I believe God is going to draw us into loving him more and appreciating each other better as we study this great book to the church.
• On Wednesday morning I had the privilege to speak at the prayer service preceding the inauguration of Governor Sanford.   I am honored to be asked…let’s not forget to pray for Mark and Jenny Sanford and their family as they lead our state government.

The low:

• Our family experienced the unexpected death of my son-in-law Ben Mayer’s father, Russ Mayer.  For Russ this was a home going as we know he was a Christ-follower.  Ben serves as an assisting pastor in the Summerville Campus.  Russ died in a plane crash not far from his home in Colorado Springs, Colorado.  As you can imagine, this week has been a trying time for our whole family.  The church has been great in expressing your love…please continue to pray for Ben and Jenny.