He was born Nov. 23, 1895, and I remember him very well.
Mr. Frank Hogan lived on a farm at the junction of U.S. 63 and Highway UU, about half-mile north of the Piney Place Station and the old skeleton bridge that crossed the Big Piney River at Simmons. My first recollection of Mr. Hogan was probably when I could barely see over a church pew. He seemed like an ordinary kind of fella – other than he always wore a suit and a strange looking hat, one of them like Mr. Blankenship would wear.
But that ordinary changed when the pastor asked him to dismiss us in prayer. You see, Mr. Hogan, in a humble tone, talked to God like he knew Him; and you can be certain that sparked a curiosity within a young boy living in these Ozarks hills. I can still remember trying to carefully squeeze along the pew and peak through the crowd of folks in that little church house to get a glimpse of Mr. Hogan while he was praying.
Did he really know God I wondered? And if he did, how did that come to be? Well, after a prayer that probably seemed to many folks about half as long as the sermon, everyone would begin to file outside, and Mr. Hogan would oftentimes offer us children a piece of Wrigley’s chewing gum and would also kind of quiz us about the sermon. I reckon it was to see if we were paying attention.
Yes sir, what a time I had, observing and trying to figure him out (as I did many of the elderly men and ladies within our congregation). But do you know what? As I was trying to figure them out, I found it interesting, but not at all odd, that those same kind of men would regularly be at Chester Herndon’s Barber Shop on Saturday mornings (dad would drop us two boys off there to get a haircut). Sometimes, they and Mr. Herndon would even sing part of a gospel hymn while he was cutting hair. What a memory that is, I tell ya! It was like a scene from one of them Norman Rockwell paintings, right here in the little town of Houston, Mo., and I was living in it (but did not know it at the time).
My grandpa, Everett Jones, used to haul cattle all over these parts. During the summer, he would often take us boys with him to the Cabool Sale Barn. And once again, those same kind of men were there. Why, if there had ever been an emergency, my grandpa could have sent us boys home with just about any of those men at the sale barn. We would have been just fine, and in perfect care; probably would have been fattened up on biscuits and gravy by their Missus.
Well, as you know, the years passed, and as they passed, something else began to happen that was very troubling to me. Those folks I have been describing, began to pass; and with that, a way of life. Now, I am one of them that is a slow learner. It takes a long time for something to soak into this hard head of mine. But once it is finished “soakin’”, it’s even harder to get it out, for I do not have much budge in me after I have learned the truth.
In saying that, I hear people talking nowadays of being something they call “progressive.” Progressive in what, I ask myself? Diggin’ a deeper hole? For just as sure as creek minnows swarm saltine crackers, this world and the people in it continue to get worse. (2 Tim. 3:13).
But why I ask, do others want to join in with them? That’s a head scratcher for sure. The apostle Paul, in explaining his manner of life in following Christ Jesus, stated the following: “…and mark them which walk so as ye have us for an ensample” (Phil. 3:17). Those people I described “walked so,” and were godly examples. It wasn’t just in their talk, they walked it – they walked so. And with Jesus Christ as our Captain, we can and should also (Heb. 2:10).
Something that took me a long time to figure out (again, my hard head) is that according to the Bible there are really only two races of people on this earth. Yep, that’s correct, only two. One race is from the first Adam, of which all of mankind were born into. It’s the race of sin, and they walk according to it (Eph. 2:3,4). The other race is of the second Adam, Jesus (1 Cor. 15:45-49 and 1 Peter 2:9,10). And after being born again (John 3:3), they walk according to Him, which is holiness. Not by their own power, mind you, but by His, for they are His workmanship (Eph. 2:10).
Just two races of people, walking two different ways. One is a narrow path, the other a wide highway (Matt 7:13,14).
This past Memorial day, my wife and I placed flowers on Mr. Hogan’s grave. And I thanked the Lord for allowing a young boy to have Mr. Hogan, and many other solid Christian folks, as examples. A people who “walked so.”
Michael Everett Jones is a Texas County native, old fashioned historian and purveyor of traditional Christian values. Email ozarksgrandpajones@gmail.com.