Influence 104

One of the best things about moving to Oxnard in 1959 was the church. People who became life-long friends, in-laws, and my wife were all part of that church at 1815 San Marino Street. So, in a very real way, that local expression of the Body of Christ had perhaps more influence in shaping me than anyone else, except my folks. It wasn't a perfect church... I guess none is... but it was made up of people who loved me and nurtured me and became special to me in a variety of ways.

About a year or so after we moved to Oxnard we got a new minister, a man named Marshall Brookey. His oldest son, Dennis, was a couple of years younger than me, and Marshall decided to start a Saturday morning class for boys when I was in 5th and 6th grades. There were probably about 6 or 8 of us who were pretty regular participants in this class (sometimes more), and Marshall taught us Bible, how to give devotional talks, how to lead singing, how to read and pray in a public setting. We practiced and even took tests. It was fun, but what really make the class worth it was the touch football we played after we studied. Brother Brookey (as we always called him) helped us choose up sides, and he always played with us. It was a blast, and it was also my best early experience with an adult who was both really serious about being a Christian and also really into having fun. That was important to learn at an early age.

A year or two later I also was allowed to witness how Brother Brookey handled tragedy. Dennis developed liver cancer and died within six months. It was tough on the family but I always had the sense that Marshall trusted God throughout. He and his family soon moved back to a church in the valley... I think it just became too painful to stay in Oxnard.

In 1971 Virginia and I asked Marshall to come back and perform our wedding. It was important to both of us and felt special as we began our life together. We saw him a couple of years ago at the funeral of a mutual friend in Fresno. Years have gone by, but he's still the man I learned to respect... the one with the tight spiral those Saturday mornings so many years ago.