by C A R I N D A V I S

a highly favored friend

dad, Bishop Jim Earp, Steve Lindsey (nephew) @ Dillon Beach in the late 80’s (scan)

Jim Earp was one of my dad’s very favorite people in the world.  I know his words would mean a lot to him-

Yesterday, I received the sad news from Annie Miller that her father and our dear friend, Bob Miller had passed away.

Back in the mid 1980s, I served as a young bishop for our church in Petaluma, CA. Because of our small numbers, we always rejoiced whenever a new family would move into the ward. So, the Sunday that Bob and Connie Miller showed up with their four young kids in tow, I wasted no time bringing them into my office to get acquainted.

It took about a nanosecond to see that Connie was as sweet a person as you would ever come across. Bob was quick to assure me that Connie and the kids would be coming to church, but was careful to leave himself out of that equation.

Somewhere inside my head a little switch flipped and the thought came to me, “OK, so this guy is my next project.”

Fortunately, that is not what followed. What actually happened was that as Sue and I got to know the Millers, we fell in love with them and they became dear friends — the kind that you could invite over at the drop of a hat for dinner or dessert, or to just hang out, play some songs on the guitar and enjoy one another’s company.

Bob had a great sense of humor and enjoyed a good story — and he had a bunch of them stored up from a life that could best be described as “colorful.” He had made a lot of interesting acquaintances along the way. Once, he invited Sue and me to come with him and Connie to see the legendary Charles Brown perform in Berkeley. We got front row seats, listened to some great classic blues and even got to visit with Charles backstage after the show. Turns out, Charles was a close friend with a member of Bob’s family!

He was a great lover of — and quite versed in — music of all kinds, but especially blues, country and bluegrass. He always enjoyed it when I pulled out the guitar and we would all sing some John Denver songs together — which was a bit of a mystery to me why someone who appreciated good music all his life would enjoy my rather modest musical skills — but it was also an honor.

Bob was a born salesman. He had an endless supply of great ideas for selling something and making money. They didn’t always work out, but that never deterred him from pursuing the next opportunity.

I learned early in life that it’s generally not a good idea to mix friendship and business, so I had always studiously avoided opportunities from friends to make a buck. However, Bob has the singular distinction in my entire life of selling me on an idea he had come up with to produce a memorabilia book for Little League baseball players, where they could store their team photos, record their baseball stats and blend it all with some great baseball stories that taught the value of teamwork, sportsmanship and learning the fundamentals with discipline and hard work. We didn’t sell many of them, but I still have a case of those books in my shed — relics of some great memories and our enduring friendship.

Anyone who knew Bob knows how much he loved his family. Connie, Carin, Deedee, Michael and Annie were the center of his universe. I think he always thought he won the jackpot when he won Connie’s heart. She is not only the rebar that has given their family strength, she is the brick and mortar, too. Together, he and Connie raised a wonderful family that has remained close as they have grown up and are now raising families of their own.

 

How grateful I am that during our recent trip to Utah, Sue and I took the opportunity to spend a wonderful afternoon with Bob, Connie, Carin and Dede, and some of their kids. We sensed as we left that it might be the last time we would see Bob in this life.

I have this personal belief that is an extension of my faith — and that is that our closest friendships were forged before we ever came to this earth. That once here, we have the opportunity to renew those relationships and prove them while on this mortal journey.

A friend I met during our BYU days — and have kept all these years — recently described me as a “highly favored” friend — one of less than a handful throughout his entire life. That touched me deeply and confirmed to me that the most valuable work of our lives is found in how well we deal with our family and friends.

I can think of no higher compliment than to say that Bob and Connie Miller are “highly favored” in my life, that I am grateful that they are part of the fabric of our lives, and that I fully expect our friendship to endure not only through the ages, but in the eternities.

Jim Earp

←
→

4 responses to “a highly favored friend”

  1. stevenlindsey1950 – Granada, Nicaragua – In seven hundred fifty-five words or less, this is what happened from late infancy until now: I struggled between the grip of Christianity and the squeeze of other world religions, embracing the restoration and living prophets. Made it through adolescence without killing myself in a car. I switched colleges six different times. I graduated with a right nice lookin' piece of parchment. I've collected lots of recycled crap from dead trees, all with signatures and seals showing that I bought into and played the game. I learned to play the harmonica half-ass, lived on the beach, lived in the desert, lived in the Rocky Mountains, all without gettin' laid or having to go to Viet Nam. In school I studied politics. What's to study? No one keeps their promises, everyone spends too much money, everyone lies and covers up their immoral and illegal acts, everyone works as little as they can, talks a lot of crap WAY too much. But, I earned a Bachelor's Degree in that pursuit, just like Ted Kennedy and Barack Obama. I drove back and forth and up and down the United States of America, Canada (including the Northwest Territories) all the way from the Arctic Circle to Chiappas, from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Flew over both oceans and beyond, and went more places than Columbus, Magellan, Leif Erikson and Amelia Earhart combined. I've been broke, wrecked, bankrupt, shot at, divorced, lost, confounded, cheated, slapped, kicked, robbed, drunk and insane (right before going totally crazy). Lived straight as an arrow and as a crooked, old man. I've caught, arrested, chased, shot, fought and threw a whole lot of punks, crooks, pushers, thieves, murderers, politicians, lawyers, drunks, druggies, hippies, truckers, cowboys, bankers, brokers and illegal aliens (from distant worlds) into the worst jail in the entire United States of Anarchy. I spent winters in Polynesia and summers in the North Pole. Somewhere, I met the right girl, got shuck of her, met another right girl, gave her everything and started over, finally living my life and enjoying each day. I helped make, deliver, raise and slightly ruin and greatly spoil a mixture of two (or three, or four, or five daughters), two sons, got them ALL partnered up with outlaws and inlaws, and found that the best part of all that was the baker's dozen (more than less) of grandchildren that heal my heart, restore my soul and teach me the world is real and real fun. I've lived in Frisco, Fresno, Mormon country, the Rocky Mountains, east Texas, western Canada, on the Florida coast in southern Alabama, on the Mexican border and in Central America. Been cursed with way too many lawyers by an old gypsy I shouldn't have thrown in jail and way too many of 'em were divorce lawyers. I've learned how to read and write, throw the houlihan, kick cow patties, kick ass, kick habits and kick my heels. I've done dope and quit dope and done it again and had it quit me. I've been wet and dry, drunk and hung over but never hanged…not yet. I tried to learn how to fly, jump out of perfectly good airplanes with a few strings tied to a real big silk handkerchief. Learned how to shoot pistols, revolvers, shotguns, rifles, cameras, slingshots, curls, the sh*t and the breeze. Been a ranger, a sailor, a teacher, a preacher, a poet, a stranger, a prophet, an officer, a gentleman, a gol-durned son-of-a-bitch, a trucker, a logger, a farmer, a rancher, a lover, a writer, a reader, a breeder, a bachelor, a husband, a father, a brother, a uncle, a grandpa, a gambler, an aviator, a horse trader, a thief, a hunter, a trapper, a miner (49er), a pirate, a devil, an angel and a ghost. Climbed mountains, scaled cliffs, rafted on rivers, wandered through canyons, trekked through forests and burned my feet and face in deserts. Built a few homes, tore a few of them down. Put seeds in the ground, in wive's wombd, in minds, in gardens some very strange places. Watched things grow, watched things bear fruit, watched things age, watched things die. Tasted the bitter and the sweet, seen the light from the dark, felt both sorrow and joy, but I'm still tryin' to figger out what's right and what's wrong. Never learnt to sing a note real good, but have found I can carry a song in my heart.
    stevenlindsey1950 says:

    Those days in Petuma were the brightest and happiest in my life, for me and my family. Much thanks to Bishop Earp for wise and inspired guidance and counsel. (In recent months, I’ve had the great pleasure of serving with Bishop Earp, as well as our Bishop from the Pleasant Hill 1st Ward, as ordinance workers in the Sacramento Temple.)

    I’d have received none of these great blessings, nor would my family have such wonderful memories of happiness, joy, gospel-living, family solidarity and genuine friendships without the righteous influence of your father and mother and its reflection in the lives of their children. Thank you for a world of blessings, Uncle Bob, Aunt Connie, Carin, Dede, Mike and Annie!

    Reply

    • I am not sure if I told you but the last weeks of my dad’s life he thought he was back in Petaluma. He was experiencing quite a bit of confusion…but he could talk easily about friends and family from there. I feel sure that memories from Petaluma were the brightest and happiest in his life too. Thank you for being part of that.

      Reply
  2. stevenlindsey1950 – Granada, Nicaragua – In seven hundred fifty-five words or less, this is what happened from late infancy until now: I struggled between the grip of Christianity and the squeeze of other world religions, embracing the restoration and living prophets. Made it through adolescence without killing myself in a car. I switched colleges six different times. I graduated with a right nice lookin' piece of parchment. I've collected lots of recycled crap from dead trees, all with signatures and seals showing that I bought into and played the game. I learned to play the harmonica half-ass, lived on the beach, lived in the desert, lived in the Rocky Mountains, all without gettin' laid or having to go to Viet Nam. In school I studied politics. What's to study? No one keeps their promises, everyone spends too much money, everyone lies and covers up their immoral and illegal acts, everyone works as little as they can, talks a lot of crap WAY too much. But, I earned a Bachelor's Degree in that pursuit, just like Ted Kennedy and Barack Obama. I drove back and forth and up and down the United States of America, Canada (including the Northwest Territories) all the way from the Arctic Circle to Chiappas, from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Flew over both oceans and beyond, and went more places than Columbus, Magellan, Leif Erikson and Amelia Earhart combined. I've been broke, wrecked, bankrupt, shot at, divorced, lost, confounded, cheated, slapped, kicked, robbed, drunk and insane (right before going totally crazy). Lived straight as an arrow and as a crooked, old man. I've caught, arrested, chased, shot, fought and threw a whole lot of punks, crooks, pushers, thieves, murderers, politicians, lawyers, drunks, druggies, hippies, truckers, cowboys, bankers, brokers and illegal aliens (from distant worlds) into the worst jail in the entire United States of Anarchy. I spent winters in Polynesia and summers in the North Pole. Somewhere, I met the right girl, got shuck of her, met another right girl, gave her everything and started over, finally living my life and enjoying each day. I helped make, deliver, raise and slightly ruin and greatly spoil a mixture of two (or three, or four, or five daughters), two sons, got them ALL partnered up with outlaws and inlaws, and found that the best part of all that was the baker's dozen (more than less) of grandchildren that heal my heart, restore my soul and teach me the world is real and real fun. I've lived in Frisco, Fresno, Mormon country, the Rocky Mountains, east Texas, western Canada, on the Florida coast in southern Alabama, on the Mexican border and in Central America. Been cursed with way too many lawyers by an old gypsy I shouldn't have thrown in jail and way too many of 'em were divorce lawyers. I've learned how to read and write, throw the houlihan, kick cow patties, kick ass, kick habits and kick my heels. I've done dope and quit dope and done it again and had it quit me. I've been wet and dry, drunk and hung over but never hanged…not yet. I tried to learn how to fly, jump out of perfectly good airplanes with a few strings tied to a real big silk handkerchief. Learned how to shoot pistols, revolvers, shotguns, rifles, cameras, slingshots, curls, the sh*t and the breeze. Been a ranger, a sailor, a teacher, a preacher, a poet, a stranger, a prophet, an officer, a gentleman, a gol-durned son-of-a-bitch, a trucker, a logger, a farmer, a rancher, a lover, a writer, a reader, a breeder, a bachelor, a husband, a father, a brother, a uncle, a grandpa, a gambler, an aviator, a horse trader, a thief, a hunter, a trapper, a miner (49er), a pirate, a devil, an angel and a ghost. Climbed mountains, scaled cliffs, rafted on rivers, wandered through canyons, trekked through forests and burned my feet and face in deserts. Built a few homes, tore a few of them down. Put seeds in the ground, in wive's wombd, in minds, in gardens some very strange places. Watched things grow, watched things bear fruit, watched things age, watched things die. Tasted the bitter and the sweet, seen the light from the dark, felt both sorrow and joy, but I'm still tryin' to figger out what's right and what's wrong. Never learnt to sing a note real good, but have found I can carry a song in my heart.
    stevenlindsey1950 says:

    Those times in Petaluma were joyous, celestial moments. They were the very finest in Clint’s life, too. That I know, certainly. Thank you for being, like your parents, such a sterling example of Christ-like love.

    Reply

Leave a ReplyCancel reply

Discover more from abode

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading

Exit mobile version