Career, Family And Living For The Lord
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A Twenty-Five Year History

I left the Shipyard in August 1972. I had graduated from Old Dominion University in the previous June, so the time had come for me to leave Linda and the kids behind for a few months so that I could finish work on my Naval Commission. Those were good years for me. Even though I was still one year away from making a firm commitment to live for the Lord, or to "sell out" as it were, and even though we were quite poor, Linda and I were happy. We were a family of six, and our future looked bright. Also, by earning my college degree, after having had such an auspicious transition into young adulthood, I had completed the first part of my two-part dream. Soon, I would be completing the second part of that dream by becoming an Ensign in the US Navy. We did not know what the future held, but we were both confident that each day would be better than the one before.

I completed all of my Navy training in all right, but not spectacular fashion. The reason for my somewhat undistinguished performance during that training, however, was simple, though not necessarily indicative of an exemplary attitude. I had joined the Navy Reserves in April 1968, before I had even started work on my degree. During three of my four-and-a-half years of non-active service, I had had to drill on a Destroyer, named the USS Henley, which was stationed in Norfolk. On the third weekend of each month, I would catch a bus at my Reserve Center and then be taken to the ship, where we would go out for a weekend drill in the Atlantic. By 1972, I had been on thirty-three weekend cruises, plus two two-week cruises, one to the Caribbean and the other to Newport, Rhode Island.

By the time that I finally reached my Officer Candidate School (OCS) training in August 1972, which was also in Newport, Rhode Island, I thoroughly knew and understood the Navy. Thus, while I was training with other young men who wanted to graduate at the top of their officer training class and impress others, my attitude was very much different and very much less dedicated. I simply wanted to get my commission and get out of there! I knew that I could work really hard and in twelve weeks be commissioned an Ensign. I also knew that I could work at a much less strenuous rate and in twelve weeks still be commissioned an Ensign. Given the choice between those two extremes, plus the fact that I was already tired from all of my work, family, and school responsibilities, I chose the latter, which to me was not only much easier but also much more efficient.

In my OCS company of about forty-five men, there was one other young man who also lacked the intensity and dedication that was so clearly evident in the others. Because of our carefree attitude, he and I were both, in somewhat humorous fashion, put in a different wing of our barracks, or segregated from the others, so that we could not have too much of a negative influence on the rest of our company. At one point, my Company Commander, who was really just another Officer Candidate like me, even tried to encourage me to be more "gung-ho." But I told him that I had been in the Navy for four-and-a-half years and that I knew what awaited us. It was not that I was trying to be a bad Officer Candidate or even that I had forgotten about the second chance that I had been given. I simply could not get myself too worked up over something that would all be over in a few more weeks.

As it turned out, I went through OCS and did not hold a high position. In my class work, I did all right, but again, my performance had not been spectacular or even noteworthy. I was only average. Yet, on November 3, 1972, when we graduated and our duty assignments were passed out, my "segregated" friend and I had both been given exactly what we had requested. He was given duty in Adak, Alaska where he had wanted to go, and I was given the billet of Automated Data Processing Officer at COMOCEANSYSLANT in Norfolk, Virginia. I would be working close to home, I would not be going to sea duty, and I would be working with computers. So, I was thrilled!

I reported for active duty at COMOCEANSYSLANT in early November. At my first staff meeting, the Captain introduced me to the others as a "computer expert." My first reaction was to look around the room to see about whom he was talking, but then, I saw that everyone was looking at me! I realized at that moment, even though I really was not an expert with computers, that I was recognized by my co-workers as "their" expert. I was a little nervous about not being able to hide behind my old boss from the Shipyard anymore, but I was also motivated by the new challenges of being on my own and of being given the chance to either sink or swim!

Right after Christmas, I was sent to Rockville, Maryland to study Digital Data Concepts and COMPASS Assembler Language for the Control Data Corporation (CDC) 3100 Computer. Linda is correct when she tells young people that the military is good for training, and when I was first starting out, they trained me. I really enjoyed going to those classes. When I had gone to Old Dominion to study Engineering, I had flunked out, and it had literally taken a miracle to get me out of that mess. When I had gone to Old Dominion the second time to study Mathematics, I had done all right, but again, my performance had not been spectacular. Mathematics was my passion, but it had also been a very difficult study. When I had gone through Officer Training, I had once again done all right but not all that great. But when I went to my first real computer training, I excelled! This time, out of about thirty students, I was the one at the top of the class. I literally took to computers like a duck to water, and I had at last found my real home, vocationally speaking. Yet for me, the best was still to come, and it would not have anything to do with computers!

Active duty in Norfolk was turning out to be more fun than work. I was responsible for our command's CDC 3100 computer, and I was working closely with Engineers and Mathematicians from our support Contractor, Bell Laboratories in Greensboro, North Carolina. I thoroughly enjoyed working with so many highly intelligent people. Many of them had already earned their PhD degree, and most of the others had earned at least one or two Masters degrees. Besides my excitement over working with so many well-qualified, highly educated individuals, all of them were especially nice to me. Of course, much of their kindness may have been because they might have viewed me as their customer.

But while my career was starting to move forward, things were also beginning to happen in our home. Linda and I had not been serious churchgoers when we were first married. She had gone to St. Mary's Catholic church at the Fort Monroe Army base in Hampton, Virginia, but not with any real deep commitment, and I had not actually gone anywhere. Once we were together and a family, though, she and I both felt a need to have some level of spiritual balance within our home. If nothing else, we wanted our children to be raised in the right kind of environment, and church seemed to play a big part in that kind of thinking.

Through the years, I have often questioned how I could have become a Christian in December 1967, yet had not actually started church until the early seventies. My only explanation is that right after my salvation experience, in late 1967 and early 1968, I had initially tried to return to my parents' church. I had even taken my nephew. But after a while, he and I had both become very bored by what seemed to be dead, liturgical services. I really did not know what church was supposed to be like, but I knew that I did not feel comfortable with the apparent rituals and routine of my parents' church. So, I stopped going!

My decision to just stop going was not a good one, but because I was only nineteen at the time, I think that it might have been understandable. During those years, I had been feeling the Lord's presence in my life, yet I had not really known or understood much about all of those strange feelings. Therefore, when my parents' church had failed to meet my spiritual needs, my youthful ignorance and spiritual immaturity had taken over and had basically directed my steps away from all churches. Because I did not know what church was supposed to be and because I was still a relatively new Christian without anyone to advise me, I did not know enough to even look for another one. At that time in my life, I simply assumed that all churches were alike and that I did not want to go to any of them!

Unfortunately, my decision to not go to church had, without question, impacted and even delayed my spiritual growth. By 1973, I had been a Christian for over five years, but I had not borne and was not bearing any kind of real spiritual fruit. In fact, some of my behavior between December 1967 and the early months of 1973, as I have already shared, had actually bordered on being shameful. But fortunately, the Lord did not give up on me so quickly! In 1973, He finally started in a very obvious way to be my spiritual High Counselor and Guide. With Linda and our children by my side, the Lord started to bring me, and even to bring us, home to Him, the place where Linda and I truly belonged and also the place where we would have freely chosen from the start had we only known the truth.

In the beginning of our search, we started attending the Catholic church where Linda and the kids had gone before we were married. We did not stay there, however, because Linda, being divorced, could not be a member and also because I did not like the booklet which was used for worship. In my case, my objection had not been with what the worship book said. It was with the idea that someone was doing my talking to God for me. Even though I did not know much about Christianity in early 1973, I did know enough to know that I could talk to God for myself. I did not need, nor want, to read someone else's prayers and devotion and try to pass them off as my own. Over twenty years later, I still feel the same way. When I talk to the Lord, I use my own words!

We next tried a Methodist Church because I had been raised as a Methodist, but none of us liked the particular church that we had visited. So, from there, we did not know where to go next, until we got a little divine help! One Saturday morning, there was a knock at our door, and a man introduced himself and asked if he could take our kids to church on a bus that would be coming through the neighborhood the next day. Linda and I agreed, on one condition - that he would tell us how we could find the church so that we could come, too. She and I did not know what would be taught at Memorial Baptist church, but we did know that we were going to be there, rather than to possibly cast our kids in harm's way without knowing what it was all about.

When we went to that church, which was in Hampton, Virginia, we were very pleased. The hymns were old-fashioned and very pleasant, and the sermons seemed to speak to our heart. From that point on, our family started and has always been in church. We continued going to Memorial Baptist for the next ten months, until we moved to Crown Point in Norfolk and into subsidized base housing. Before we left, though, something very special happened. In July 1973, the church held a one-week revival. They had a special speaker and a special musician perform services for the week. Our family really enjoyed the whole series of messages, and for me, it was my first-ever revival.

On the final day of the revival, which I think was Sunday, the 15th of July, we were leaving the church after the morning service. The evangelist had spoken about having a personal relationship with the Lord, and his sermon was very effective. I can remember thinking to myself that I had had that kind of relationship with God since December 1967, and I can also remember thinking how nice it was to finally be learning something about my mysterious spiritual past. I really had been very naive about so much. But the Lord was starting to open my eyes, and He had my attention! As we were leaving the building, however, Linda broke down and began to cry. That was the first time that I had ever witnessed anything like that from her, and I felt a need to do something. So that evening, at the end of the service, when the pastor invited people to come forward, she and I were among the first ones to the altar.

On the 15th of July, in 1973, we both made a conscious decision to live for the Lord, and in the twenty-plus years since, we have never changed our minds! That night, we made a very good decision, and it has carried us through many ordeals. We never joined Memorial Baptist Church. However, our family continued attending services faithfully and were even discussing the possibility of becoming members when, in October, I was notified that our military-subsidized housing had become available in Norfolk. Thus, when we might have joined that church, we instead moved to a new town, which was about twenty miles away but much closer to my work.