My Early Story

Good morning,

I have hurt my hand and can't really type, so I am going to revisit my early story which I first shared over 15 years ago. I hope it will encourage you to reflect on your own story.

Love,

Bob

Howard Wall

 

You wouldn't be reading this if it were not for Howard Wall (speaking in the natural). Of course you would not be reading this if it were not for a number of other people as well, but I'm going to begin with Howard.

 

When I was in the 10th grade and attending Western High School in Washington, D.C. I worked at the Food Mart,  a grocery store at 31st & M streets in Georgetown. I worked after school and on Saturday, stocking shelves, bagging groceries, and carrying orders home for folks who lived in walking distance from the store.

 

It was early 1966 when Howard came on board as our new produce manager. He was around 5'8", thin, with coal black hair slicked back, and heavy rimed black glasses with thick lenses. Howard was a Native American.

 

I took my breaks in the area where Howard prepped his produce, for that was also the area in which our cases of dry goods were stored in preparation for stocking. I'd sit on a box, eat my snack, read the paper, and chat with Howard, who was probably around 50 years old.

 

(I recall the first time I tried yogurt during one of my breaks. I couldn't understand why anyone would eat the stuff - it was so bitter! Then I discovered that the fruit was on the bottom.)

 

I don't recall Howard and I talking about anything in particular during those early days of getting acquainted. He wasn't a sports fan, which I was, so that wasn't a common interest. I guess we just talked - maybe about heads of lettuce or radishes or maybe even kumquats. Have you ever had a conversation about kumquats?

 

What I do distinctly remember is finishing my break one day and getting ready to go through the stainless-steel double doors that separated the back of the store from the public area when Howard asked me a question: "Bob, are you a Christian?"

 

"Sure," I replied. After all I was an American, I had been christened in the Presbyterian Church, therefore I was a Christian. That makes sense to you, doesn't it?

 

Howard's question, however, led me to begin reading the Bible and asking Howard questions. He loaned me some books to read, among them Billy Graham's World Aflame, nothing like a little drama to get one's attention.

 

What strikes me as I reflect back to Howard is that he was never pushy - he was, as we say today, relational. And get this, he was significantly older than me and he was relational. I wonder where we get the thinking that older folks and younger folks can't relate? He was interested in me and so he could talk with me and listen to me - not rocket science is it?

 

I wonder what the timing of Howard's question looked like on his end? Why did he decide to pop the question at that particular time? Had he been thinking about it for a while? Had he started to ask the question at other times only to draw back at the last moment?

 

Howard and I both left the Food Mart later that year. Howard moved to Colorado and I lost track of him. I left because I didn't feel my initiative was appreciated. But during our remaining time together Howard and I talked about Jesus and during the weeks following Howard's question I came to know Jesus.

 

I don't know if the Food Mart is still at 31st and M streets, but I do know that one day I'll catch up with Howard and thank him for asking me the most important question anyone could ever ask, and I'll thank him for being my friend.