Father's Day

Today is Father's Day. For many, your father is still living. For some like me, your father has gone on. I wanted to tell you a little about my father, at least what I knew. His name was John K. Durst III, but I knew him as Daddy. When we first met, he was a teacher at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary. He taught Religious Education. A couple of years after I was born, Daddy got his doctorate in Religious Education at Southwestern Seminary in Ft. Worth, where he had gotten his Master's degree about 20 years before, and was where he met my Mother. Daddy would commute by train from New Orleans to Ft. Worth. In 1958, he was asked to come to South Carolina to be the Director of the Sunday School Department for the South Carolina Baptist Convention. We moved back to his home state. Daddy was a pioneer in Religious Education. It is believed that he was the first full-time Minister of Education in a church. He was the first person to incorporate an architecture consultant for churches on a state level. He led conferences around the world, and he knew everybody. Everybody knew Daddy. Even if he didn't remember their names, he was always gracious and never let on that he didn't remember names too well. He exposed us to a lot. We went to a lot of places, and he introduced us to a lot of people. One of the highlights of his life was leading Sunday School leadership conferences in Hong Kong and Taiwan, and then travelling around the world. He was gone a lot, so Mother raised me mostly. When Daddy was home, he was a disciplinarian. "Spare the rod and spoil the child" were words he lived by, much to the hurt of my bottom. I had problems with Daddy, as he wouldn't let me do a lot of stuff like playing cards and dancing. Some people can't identify with that, but if you lived in a minister's house, you would know. He provided a lot for me, like sending me to college and to Europe. He pulled some strings to get me into college, since my grades were not too good. That's where I blossomed. Daddy retired in 1976, after suffering a heart attack. He had a lot of heart problems after that. I seemed to be home every time he had an attack, so I could get him to the hospital. It was weird, but I think God was looking out for him. He took interim pastorates in Columbia in his retirement years. Even though he never said, we felt it was an insult that the SC Baptist Convention didn't use him as a consultant after he retired, but there was a lot of jealousy with the new director, so Daddy did other things. Daddy was a very humble man. He could have had a big ego with all he did, but he was someone who let others have the credit. I didn't even realize how much he did until about 2 years before he died. In 1994, Daddy and Mother moved to Martha Franks Retirement Home in Laurens, SC. He didn't want to move, and fought it. But, after about 3 months, he got okay with the move, because he saw a lot of folks there that he had known throughout his years in South Carolina. After all, the facility was owned by the Baptists. We had to take away Daddy's drivers license, because he was having trouble remembering how to drive. We took away Daddy's independence. When I would visit Daddy, he would ask me to take him to the drug store or Wal-mart. When I would ask him why he didn't ask someone there to take him, he said he didn't want to bother them. That was Daddy. He died in 1999, after suffering from heart disease and pneumonia. The last time I spoke with him, he told me something that he did many times--"We love you, and we're proud of you." That was Daddy. When my brother and I went to Laurens to see Daddy in the hospital, he was in a coma and not doing well. He was gasping for air. The doctor said that even if he would wake up, he wouldn't know us. We went back to Martha Franks and told Mother about Daddy's condition. She told us--"Let him go." She was suffering from a bad stroke. We went back to the hospital and told the doctor what Mother had said. We then went back to Columbia. By the time we got home, Daddy had gone. We had a funeral in Laurens for the residents there. Mother was not strong enough to go to the cemetery in Greenwood, about 30 miles away. Some friends and family came. We were quite moved by the turnout. I don't know how to explain it, but when Daddy died, he gave me the quality of being humble. Before, I had a big ego, mainly through my work in acting and writing. After, I realized a lot about what is important in life. Family and friends. Daddy wrote a lot of letters to family and friends. He cared about others. He cared about where he had come from. He cared about being a father. So, on this Father's Day, think about your father. If you are close, give him a hug literally or figuratively. If you are not close, think a good thought about him. To all fathers today--"We love you and are proud of you". Thanks, Daddy.