Men of Honor

Memorial Day

They played Taps today, Daddy
Bright sunshine
Fluttering flags,
Tear-stained rugged faces.
We sang about out country, Daddy
Voices together
Blue sky and mountains,
Wheelchairs on the grass.
Pride and sadness
Interwoven like a tapestry,
Pieces on a quilt
We call America.
I decorated graves with a Flag, Daddy
Under that oak in South Carolina
Maybe someone honored you.
Liberty, Freedom, Peace
All that we cherish
Earned with a sacrifice unimaginable
Innocence lost, hearts broken,
Young lives abruptly ended,
And all too soon forgotten.
They played Taps today, Daddy
Did you hear it?
Somehow, I know you did.

For my father and all Veterans
Randall W. Smith

We paid tribute to the veterans of our church family last Sunday. It was a week early, but I was left wondering why we don’t honor them more often than just this one day each year.

One of my favorite people, Randy Smith, shared his thoughts about Veteran’s Day, and it was a sweet time of remembrance. When his father, a veteran himself, died, Randy had hoped Taps could be played in his honor, but it didn’t work out. Shortly thereafter though, Randy attended a Memorial Day service during which they did play Taps, and it prompted him to write “Memorial Day” for his father, “and all Veterans.”

Randy is a great guy… He is an amazing teacher, a lover of literature and good music, and the most enthusiastic Appalachian State fan you’ll ever meet, (In fact, he’s graciously making it possibly for our family to enjoy the last home game of ASU’s season next Saturday … is it any wonder we love this guy?) But more than anything, I think the thing I appreciate the most about Randy Smith is the way he’s living out his faith, each and every day, with everyone he meets. Randy is constant, a living witness to the God who loves us enough to seek a real and personal relationship with us … through the miracles of nature, the emotions of music, the lessons of history. I particularly admire his calling to teach young people, offering them a new and different perspective on religion that might not otherwise dawn on them.

Randy’s Veteran’s Day message was bittersweet, because one of his ‘heroes’ of faith had died in the previous week. H.C. Kiser, Jr. was also an amazing man with an even more amazing story, well known and loved by many people in these parts. H.C.’s plane was shot down while on a mission over Nazi Germany during World War II. He spent seven months as a prisoner of war, a circumstance during which God intervened in his life time and again in miraculous ways. Through the hardships of battle and imprisonment H.C. held fast to his faith, and he emerged having made a covenant with God, promising to share his story, in captivity and freedom.

And although he lived a very humble and quiet life locally after his service to our country, H.C. did share his faith whenever he had the opportunity. I was blessed personally to hear him give his testimony on more than one occasion, and in 1998 Beverly Harding-Mullins wrote his biography, Called to be His Servant – H.C. Kiser, Jr.

H.C.'s favorite Bible verse was,

“Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” ~ Hebrews 13:5 (KJV)

Randy Smith always had great admiration for H.C., who was a personal friend of his, and I think it would be safe to say he aspired to be the kind of authentic witness H.C. was. I also think it’s accurate to say that, although his experiences have been different, Randy’s life speaks to people much the same way H.C.’s did, and that’s a powerful thing.

Randy’s poem, “Quiet Man” was included in H.C.’s biography, but he wrote this one for him, as well:


First Violet in the Spring

I have looked
upon the mountains
and seen the grandeur there,
the beauty of
the autumn leaves
birds sweet song so fair
Yes, and many a sunrise
I have pondered
and felt God everywhere
But this man
taught me more
than I could ever learn alone,
He loved the gift of life
his smile could melt a stone.
He taught us all
to love the Lord
to love our fellow man,
he never failed
to share a story
or lend a helping hand.
His presence will be
forever felt
my soul will always sing
whenever I look down upon
The first violet in the Spring.

For H.C. with respect and love, Nov. 7, 1998
in Blowing Rock, NC, 7:00 a.m.
Randall W. Smith