John

 December 13, 2022

There are lots of things to remember about John. For one thing, he was unpretentious. I’m sure there were plenty of times when he wasn’t smiling, but I don’t remember them. He loved to laugh, and was always ready with a joke or funny story. He wasn’t one to grab the limelight, but neither was he one to shirk responsibility. In addition to his career responsibilities, he was an ardent proponent of the local fire department, serving as an EMT and chaplain. 

His left hand had only little stubs for fingers, but it didn’t stop him from playing the trumpet, and didn’t dampen his enthusiasm for life. At his funeral Sunday, one of his granddaughters told of asking him about that hand when she was little. “God made me this way,” was his response to her question. It was given without any sense of complaint or deprivation. It was merely part of who he was. I remember once years ago when someone with a rather sour disposition complained to him about her disability. He held his hand to her face and told her to stop complaining.

John loved the Lord, honoring him with his upbeat personality and love for people. He was my predecessor at Park church, and I owe him a great deal. He laid the foundation upon which I was privileged to build. In my early years, if I had a question about the inner and often subtle workings of this particular congregation, John was always willing to share the wisdom of his experience here without being critical or judgmental about anyone. 

In my son’s garage sits a tangible reminder of John. It’s the 1942 Harley Davidson that he owned and passed along to his son, who traded it to me for a different bike. I’ve been telling myself for nearly 25 years that I would get it put back together, but finally decided to give it to my son who has more aptitude for mechanical things than I. The day will come when he gets it up and running, and when he does, I’ll think again of R. John Rough, my Everyday Hero for today.