LOVINGTON, NEW MEXICO
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LOVINGTON, NEW MEXICO |
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Connie Crow's memorial address, 6/12/2013:
"Would you pray with me, please.
Sweet Jesus, today, you know what I am trying to do…and I pray that your Holy Spirit will give me the strength to do it……May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our all hearts be acceptable in your sight. O Lord our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.
As I begin this brief resume of the man who was called by many names……Oral, George, Slug, Coach, Dad, Grandad and Mr. Blackard…I need to make a disclaimer…Dad was the orator in the family….I am not, but as the Coach’s daughter, please know, I will give this my best effort……
Since Dad was a math major…and REALLY wanted us ALL to be Math majors….I think I will begin by speaking in absolutes….
Whatever the name we called him by, he loved all of us dearly. He loved his family and MOST especially his wife of 65 years, Juanita. His grandsons were the apple of his eye, and he adored those great grand babies and their Mama’s… Although I will always think he wanted me to be a boy…(I watched a lot of football, for sure)…...I believe he was proud of me, too. If for no other reason than Jim and I gave him wonderful grandboys!
Each decision he made was led with that love….and he would always believe we WOULD and SHOULD do the “right thing.”
His YES was YES and his handshake was his bond.
He gave you respect. He expected YOU to be true to that respect and pass it on.
He earned the name “Slug” while he was in High School. That stemmed from the comic strip, Sluggo…..both had a trademark, FLAT TOP haircut. He loved his barber and they met routinely every two weeks. Some things in his life were just NOT negotiable.
His undying love for the game of golf was evident everywhere. From his hospital bed, he glowed with the news that his young golf student and friend had just won his first tournament….….don’t you just know that he is talking about those golf swings even now.
Coach was a revered name to Dad. It meant more than sports. It meant relationships. It meant bonds. It meant, blood, sweat, tears and prayers for each of us. Even in his last days in the hospital when asked what name he preferred to be called, the name Oral George was on the wrist band, but his reply, was “why don’t you just call me Coach.”
Even as he lost his hearing, sight and health, his memory never dimmed. He remembered you, your parents, your sisters and brothers and even where you lived. He may have called you by another family member’s name….but I bet you never failed to respond dutifully. My instructions were to call him Mr. Blackard at Lovington High…and guess what, I did!
Whether the cap he was wearing was Coach, Dad or Mr. Blackard education was not an option. It was a certain absolute. I remember him saying, “Connie, you must go to college, you may have to take care of yourself one day.” You just never know what might happen, even after you marry. I always knew there would be at least 16 years of school for me.
My Father was a patriot. With every fiber of his being he believed in all the good and honorable attributes of America. He always flew the flag high. He believed that this country afforded us all a hearty opportunity to reach any goal to which we set our hearts, hands and mind. How ironic, that on June 6th, D-Day, Dad celebrated his final liberation and freedom in the presence of the Lord.
Dad’s fellowship with the Methodist Church Choir and his love for singing had him singing hymns until his very last breath. While in the hospital for the last 45 days, he often sang to his visitors, his nurses and to Mom and me. He loved the words in the old hymns. He had his favorites and they were written down and some have been sung today. Thank you sweet friends for sharing your voices in honor of Dad.
I would like to inject a few observations that might include words from his past students; hopefully, you can relate and find some humor, here.
As a soldier, coach, teacher and father….HE lived in discipline…Therefore, WE ALL did. Over the years, I think that he purposely forgot the paddling incidents he inflicted. Those paddling’s have NOT faded in the memory of the recipients, however. Their recollection is: “They certainly served their purpose.”
Dad took responsibility very seriously. And in addition to that; He felt it was his calling in life, to make sure WE did, too!
He wanted us all to succeed, to be the best we could be! He was a living example of leadership and integrity. If we had trouble learning by example, he was more than willing to be our tutor in the learning journey.
Dad was a professional man of uncompromising principles. However, after 50 years of begging and whining by a former student; that an F math grade, be changed….As he laid IN bed, IN Lubbock, WITH a broken hip….Dad relented. He said, OK, even if I change your nine weeks grade to an A….the best we can do is give you a “C” average for the semester. It may be an imaginary one….but this “C” average gave us all many laughs and smiles. And then the student said, if I had known this would bring so much enjoyment, Coach, I could have brought you more of my report cards!
Just a few more comments from students…
*He treated each one of us like we were somebody, no matter our circumstances, he was inherently kind and fair.
* He believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself
*a blessing and role model
*disciplinarian, mentor and friend
*Always my favorite
*Generous in his kindness
*One of a kind
*Special man, changed my life
*True blessing
*Loved his sense of humor
*Even after 40 years, he recognized me and asked about my sister…a sweet man.
*I am the man I am today because he believed in me.
*He taught me so much about responsibility
*My favorite algebra teacher, coach and mentor for live
*An example for the many; whose lives he touched, we are better for knowing Mr. Blackard
And from my heart…..WE will remember the man who RARELY would go out without his suit and tie. Yes, Dad’s breed of man, the way he handled things has pretty well gone, now, but the memories will live on.
We will remember the man who rarely would go out without his suit and tie….Yes, Dad’s breed of man…the way he handled things has pretty well gone, now, but the memory will live on.
He had many writings and instructions for this service…and among those instructions….He wanted to leave you with these words: “To all the people I have ever met and yet to meet, thanks for your influence in my life.”
As I close my part in the service;
I have asked our praise band to sing my personal favorite praise song. GIVE ME JESUS…….Oh my! What joy there is in KNOWING that Dad now sees the One we also yearn to see, sweet Jesus. As Dad has joined Jesus and all of those that we have loved and have gone before us; there is JOY…I want to say, thank you for your prayers, your care and love.….and for your presence in all of our lives. My dad ABSOLUTELY loved each of you… Dad may have poured into your lives, but OH, how you poured into his. The memories you provided him stayed with him vividly until his last breath. Thank you….My prayer for us all is that we may we be found faithful to uphold what the Lord tells us to do, whenever and whatever that may be. After all, the best, for us; is yet to come! And we know that the scripture in Jeremiah is true….”Do not grieve for the Joy of the Lord is our Strength. Let us Sing, let us Rejoice……. Yes, “Give me Jesus!”
As the band gets ready, I would like to say one more thing:
There will be a time for reflection in the Fellowship Hall after return from the cemetery. We invite you to come and fellowship and share snacks and George Blackard stories with us. I think Dad would love your laughter and remembrances. (As this will be the first time that we will have the opportunity for the last say!) There will be an open mic.
*Coach Black read the obituary at the beginning of the service. He also added some kind stories. He commented that Dad had been given the opportunity to be promoted to Assistant Superintendent, but chose to stay at LHS to be near the “kids.”
*At the graveside: There was an honor guard present. The flag ceremony was given. The flag was presented to Pudge. Taps was played. Connie’s brother in law played “Battle Hymn of the Republic” on the harmonica to conclude the committal. That was following the benediction by Brother Dave Whitman, Methodist Pastor.
*After the return from the cemetery: Ross Black was the MC for the information time of
Story-Sharing. A few that shared were Coach Black, Rick Black, Steve Osborn, Bob Smith, Barry Crutchfield. (golf and football stories)"
*The obituary can be seen at www.kirbysmithrogers.com
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