February 11, 2015 (Wednesday)
I suppose that I am not alone as one of my age group in having a habit of looking back over my life, thinking about the past. This morning I have been thinking about our move to Rockport on Halloween morning, 1964, and our family at that time.
When we moved here we had four children. We had a fifth-grader, David; a third-grader, Danny; a 5-year-old pre-schooler, Debbie; and an 18-month-old toddler, Dianna. After living here two years, Dwight was born. We then became a family of seven.
The people welcomed us with open arms, and the mosquitoes were exceptionally happy to see our children playing outside. In no time at all, they were covered with mosquito bites. We were living a couple of blocks from the bay, so the sun’s rays were very strong and the fair complected children, especially David, with red hair (and later, Dwight), were sunburned easily. Then respiratory and intestinal illnesses hit the family, being especially dangerous for Danny, who is Diabetic. Just before Christmas, we were all ill and Danny was in the hospital. On Christmas day, we were much better, Danny was at home, and we had chicken for our Christmas dinner, cooked in a rotisserie in our kitchen range. It was a bland meal but very enjoyable, since we had not been eating much for days. I suppose that first 60 days in Rockport was an initiation into the semi-tropical climate of this beautiful place. After that, we all settled down to normalcy.
Rockport had always had visitors from the northern states in the winter months, but we came at the beginning of a new era of more and more people that we affectionately call, “Winter Texans.” And the church grew. We had new members almost every week, eventually blossoming into a great revival with Larry Taylor and Billy Foote in early 1967. There were 97 professions of faith in that meeting. On the final Sunday evening I baptized 49 people in one service. Everyone who was here then remembers those days. They were unique, to say the least.
Worship attendance was 178 on that first Sunday of November, 1964. Things are much different today. The church has grown tremendously, I’ve been retired 19 years, and two great men have been the pastors. Walter Knight was a great pastor for 9 years before his passing away, and Scott Jones has had a wonderful ministry of seven years so far. Today’s First Baptist Church of Rockport scarcely resembles the one that called me to be the pastor over 50 years ago. As one of the Youth Musicals of the 1960’s and 1970’s declared, “I’ve had my turn at bat.” But I’m still on the team at Bethel Baptist Church, Ingleside, where I’ve been asked four times to be the Interim Pastor. What a tremendous privilege to be of service in this way at 83 years of age. Thank you, Lord.
Life is always on the move. Wanda was our Music Director for 25 years and has been in Heaven 13 years. The children we brought with us to the coast now have families of their own. David and Janet are grandparents now. Their children have gone to college and are doing well. Dan’s daughter recently completed college. Debbie has been with her Lord for 18 years. She and her mother are now together forever. Her husband, Rick, lives in Rockport. Their children have either graduated or are attending college. Dianna and Mark’s children are in college, and Debbie’s three sons are part of their family. Dwight now lives in Rockport and is a software creator, working from home with a national company. There are now nine grandchildren and one great grandchild. This is beginning to sound like an obituary, so I will close for now. Praise God from whom all blessings flow..