Friday, October 26, 2007
Tinney Chapel Patriarch Louis Newton Laid To Rest
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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!”
