Tinney Chapel Today

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FRONT ROW MEN. The late Louis Newton was no ordinary churchman: Not by any stretch of any sense of that seldom-heard word. For instance, Louis preferred to sit in a front row pew during Tinney Chapel worship service, a conspicuous perch that most men, and many women, avoid at all costs. And, as long as Louis was able to be there, so was his faithful friend, and fellow front-row-man, Harold Lenius.

“IT WAS SUCH AN HONOR to sit beside Newt in that front row pew,” recalls Harold, who started calling him Newt soon after a surprise visit from Louis a few days after the death, on January 9, 2004, of Janette, Harold’s wife of 64 years. “Newt and I hit it off immediately, both of us being farm-raised country boys and recent widowers after long, happy marriages. Newt had dealt with his loss a bit longer, and knew just what I was going through.

“WE TALKED OFTEN ABOUT OUR LIVES AND WIVES,” says Harold, who noticed a tear in Louis’ eye during that first conversation about their departed spouses, a cleansing signal of their first bonding experience. Soon they exchanged memories of two farm boys walking to school, one in rural East Texas, the other in agriculturally rich Iowa. Louis could then still drive his van, chauffeur Harold through field or pasture, and needed only a cane to maneuver boldly among cows, goats and new-mown hay.

“HE WAS JUST FOUR YEARS OLDER, and loved to take care of me,” recalls Harold, now 89, who weighed barely 145 pounds to Louis’ 200-plus. But, as Louis’ health declined, their roles reversed. Harold became Newt’s inseparable caregiver, driving him to church, encouraging him and meeting his needs. “A friendship like ours does not happen often,” says Harold, who will never forget the wonderful smile on Louis’ face every time he walked into the room to receive Louis’ standard greeting: How you be? Even when Louis was very ill, Harold never heard him express a negative thought.

LOUIS’ DOG, BUDDY, still shows up at Tinney Chapel every day. “Buddy will probably always associate my car with his master,” Harold believes. “Buddy meets my car there every Sunday, then waits, hoping to see Newt again. I’ve heard of dogs in situations like this who never give up hope, and in this instance, Buddy and I have a lot in common!”

# posted by Joe Dan Boyd @ 10/26/2007

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The Last Prayer of Louis Newton (1914-2007)

Louis Newton loved his neighbors, all of them, which is to say, all of us! Such was the heart of a devotional message at Tinney Chapel's recent OASIS group gathering, Oct. 16. The Scriptural reference, Matthew 22:36-39, chosen by OASIS leader Carolyn Beavers, reveals the incredible emphasis Jesus attributes to that commandment: Love your neighbor as much as you love yourself!

Would we pray for healing, relief from pain, strength to sit up, just to be able to walk to the bathroom to preserve what little dignity might remain? Might we pray for God to hurry, to take us home to be with Him?

Just eight days earlier, Oct. 8, Carolyn recalled that she visited Louis on what might have been his final day of mental and spiritual clarity before suffering yet another stroke. Louis then asked about husband Dick. He genuinely wanted to know where Dick was, and what he was doing. On that day, Louis conceded that he was weary of being bedridden, and was ready to go home: To be with Jesus and his beloved KK. As Carolyn’s visit ended, Louis’ caregiver, Sheila Elkins, asked if he wanted to have a word of prayer.

He did not hesitate. Louis took Carolyn’s hand, held it tight, then prayed a beautiful, elegant, sincere prayer.

Louis might very well have prayed for healing, more time, less pain, ability to walk. But, he did not!

Louis prayed for us! Personally! For Carolyn and Dick, thanking God for them and their work at Tinney Chapel. He thanked God for Tinney Chapel’s Oasis ministry, and asked God to continue to bless it. He thanked God for our church, and all the people in it, asking for God’s blessings on each one of us. He did not mention himself. He did not mention his illness. In what might have been his final out-loud prayer, Louis once again obeyed one of Jesus’ greatest commandments: Love your neighbor as yourself!

# posted by Joe Dan Boyd @ 10/24/2007

Two words to sum her up: omnivorous curiosity. She wanted to know about everything, to absorb every bit of knowledge that life had on offer. She was not a woman to take on at Trivial Pursuit. Nothing better sums her approach to life than that it was a great learning opportunity.

Perhaps that is what made her daring, too, for she was a daring woman. In an era when women did not pursue careers, when the chores of keeping a household going were more than enough to absorb all the energy of a woman, mother set out to Tyler during the Big War to start a career, not just to do her bit for the War, but to set off in a new direction, off into a world unexplored.

That was a long time ago to some folks. Most secretaries had still been men, before the Pearl Harbor suggested a different need for men. Women did not live, unmarried, away from home, particularly not in strange, big cities, like Tyler. Mother did, along with a trio of smart, pretty young women from Winnsboro. She would became a secretary. She would remain one from the time that secretaries transcribed dictation from wax cylinders until word processors and then computers made the job a rare executive privilege.

It seems so simple and obvious to us that young women go off now to pursue their own careers wherever that takes them. It was not so in the 1940s. What changed that was women like Bea Bellomy who went forth to do the work of the world. We remember that the men who went out from East Texas to fight at strange places like Salerno and Luzon, to win victory over the tyranny of Japan and the National Socialists were heroes. We might take this occasion, standing by the graves of a couple of that heroic generation to recall that the women, too, went bravely forth to face the unknown.

If this seems too large and grand a thing to make of the life of a country girl who went to the city, then I am my mother’s son in this, for she saw the big picture of things, imagined the world large, and was, in imagination, one who saw from a great height. She was a reader, ate books the way a hungry kid goes through provisions. The Carnegie Library here nurtured her as surely as the genial wit of Charlie Tinney or the farm kept by Anna Tinney. The books fed her imagination as well as her thirst for knowledge. That never changed.

When we go home, I will pack up her Talking Books cassette reader from the Texas State Library and send it off so that it can bless someone else blinded by life. That was left to the last because that reader was her last link to the books that she loved. It was her fittest memorial.

So, I will not remember my mother’s cooking; my dad was the better cook, even if he was prone to barbecue. I will not fondly recall my mother’s domestic skills at all; they were what was necessary and not a whit more. What I will recall is a proud, industrious, and skilled professional woman, dressed properly and simply, so simply that one could hardly imagine that in her mind whole worlds bloomed and came to life when she read, that behind her eyes was a curious and eager mind. That is a worthy memory, as she was a worthy woman. --Walter Bellomy, son of Beatrice & Kenneth

# posted by Joe Dan Boyd @ 10/13/2007