Al Opdyke

 

The magazine from San Francisco Theological Seminary came today.  It comes quarterly.  I like to read through it, though to tell the truth, I have expressed little support for the institution.  Perhaps as I move along that might change.  Nostalgia and all that.

On the page titled In Memoriam there was a name that stopped me.  Al Opdyke.  It took me a few switch backs and double clutches to get it into any sort of perspective.  The Al Opdyke I knew was part of my mythology.  He worked green chain to make money in seminary.  Don’t ask, it’s dangerous.  He spent every spare moment in the Sierra’s, mountains that is.  He nursed me through my seminary internship and probably was responsible with helping me make it through with any sort of sanity. 

He could take a dare.  He had a great laugh.  He worked with cops and got along with farmers.  He liked dogs.  He got pancreatic cancer.  So my mythology intersected with mortality.  I don’t approve. 

Important people in my life have died before.  People do that.  But each time it happens it’s like a body blow.  I can hear him chuckle about my comments.  He’d shake his head a little and tell me I had better things to do than worry about him.  But right now, I don’t think there is anything that is more important than spending some time remembering my mentor and a man whom I valued and respected, and will continue to do so. 

You knew how to love life.  You fought the good fight.  You took time to care for fools and dogs.  You helped me find my calling.  Bless you on your way.