A letter from Opal Crall to John Carmack, May 2002

A letter from Opal Crall to John Carmack

Found while unpacking some boxes

May xx, 2002

Opal Hampton-Crall

Rt 1 Box 86

Colony, OK 73021

Remembering Bob & Oleta Carmack

Perhaps adding to your memory bank will be better than the cash gift.

Bob & Oleta Carmack came to Hinton when Patricia, Steve, and Sam were youngsters. They lived in the house next door to C.A. and Sue Hampton. They bought their groceries on credit at Hampton’s IGA. So, it was that in their Hinton lives theirs were intertwined with mine. When they came to Hinton, the Carmacks continued to have some land at Gould. I remember that Bob and Oleta were hard workers endeavoring to get ahead. Fairly soon after they moved to the Thompson house Oleta shared with me that she and Bob had taken on the support of two missionaries. They were doing this by faith. I remember Oleta coming home from taking care of the Gould land wearing overalls, and they were not the designer kind!

Oleta had a heart for the poor folks in the community. She helped people, in particular, who wanted to help themselves. But this particular desire to help the ambitious did not prevent her from helping those who didn’t desire to rise about their situation in life.

Your grandmother did not like to shop for clothes. Ic are to believe she thought she had better ways to spend her time. But she and Bob loved to shop for things for Christmas for their family and shortly before Christmas each year they did exactly that!

After Paul Hampton, my first husband, left Hinton for seminary and then the preaching field, we often visited with Bob & Oleta. They both had warm hearts for workers in God’s service. Those were blessed times for us!

When I went to Scott & White [Hospital] to have a kidney removed, we stopped in Waco to take Bob medicine he had forgotten. Bob and Oleta took us out to eat and Bob prayed for me and my recovery.

I was grieved to hear of Bob’s serious illness before he passed away and I went to see Oleta. She insisted that I come in to see Bob. He was in his big chair in the corner of his big bedroom. The spiritual giant looked small, but I knew that the soul was strong within him.

Before your grandmother became seriously ill, she and I visited at length mostly about our families. That was my last visit with her. After her surgery I really didn’t know how to help her. I sang “Amazing Grace” to her and tears trickled down her cheeks.

I have known you from the time you were in your mother’s womb. I knew of you when you were conceived in love. I write to encourage you in your walk through life. You have a legacy to hold dear.

Thanks for the picture and sending the announcement.

I remember one Sunday when Bob became burdened for a farmer east of town and he went to the man and led him to the Lord.

The faith of Bob & Oleta was a large part of building the Hinton Baptist sanctuary. I encourage you to emulate the faith that is in your parents, Steve and Paula, and in your grandparents Bob & Oleta.

Congratulations.

Opal  

Commenters

This one goes out to the commenters.

I took advantage of laundry day by going back and reading every last entry on this blog. I did this once two years ago and ended up making a few entries private because they were drama-filled. I did the same thing today, except the posts I took down I mostly took down because they were boring or didn't add anything to my story. The ones that are left are the ones that deal with funny stories from my past, major revelations about my character, and the posts that fill in details I might otherwise forget (primarily the Costa Rica entries, Jan-Mar 2006).

While I was doing this, I realized how long I've really been at this. Equally important, I realized how long some of you have been watching me do it, and I can't tell you how grateful I am. You commenters have given me advice, encouragement, support, and self-insight I would not have received if I did not have this blog, and it was almost always exactly what I needed exactly when I needed it.

First and foremost, my aunt Nancy. I think she has been reading this blog longer than anybody, and is probably the only person to have legitimately "found" me rather than following a link I provided here, as evidenced by her first comment, which is pretty hilarious. Nancy always makes me feel good about my writing, and as I read through the old posts I saw how shamefully rare it was for me to respond to her even though she never stopped encouraging me. If she didn't keep commenting and telling me she enjoyed these posts, I might have forgotten about this blog long ago, and days like today wouldn't be possible for me. I owe Nancy my ability to consistently write with my own voice and express my thoughts clearly, because without this blog I never would have had all this practice. Thank you so much Nancy.

The rest are in no particular order, but all are important.

Ashlee Ford - lots of great comments out there from you, all of them making me feel cooler. You're the "glue" that keeps our little band of high school misfits together, I'm glad you keep reminding us all to meet for Christmas-ish, else I would have virtually no ties to my high school experience. Aside, of course, from...

Nate - There were four or five comments that you've made in the past five years that were simply amazing, I wish I had bookmarked them so I could link to them now. You often leave comments that I don't understand at the time, then I come back a month later and it's like you were living in my head but I was a month behind and you got to my thoughts first. You manage to see the truth behind pretty much all the BS I spew (especially when I don't realize it's BS), and that's why you're my best friend in the world. Sorry for being cheesy, it makes me feel weird too, but I wasn't going to not say it.

Cobb - Always with the jokes, uplifting thoughts, and grammar corrections (both in English and Spanish). I think you're the only K-Psi who has been reading these posts this whole time, and even though we rarely talk I consider you a close friend.

There were several others who have left me multiple comments that I appreciated (Talley, Michelle, Laura, Caroline), and plenty of one-timers who left great insight as well. Anybody who has taken the time to read any of this has my gratitude; I tell myself I write this blog for me, and that's true. But having people respond to my thoughts is what lets me grow through this and know that I'm heading down a positive track. If it weren't for this blog, I wouldn't be capable of having the conversations I get to have today, and if it weren't for the commenters, I might never have realized some of the things that have made me who I am now.

Thanks, guys.

-John

Bells

This is a short post about handbells. Before you read it, I have to tell you two things.

One: Yes, I play handbells.
Two: You are not the first person to think this is funny.

The video below represents one of the most exhilarating musical performances I've ever been a part of. It's really very silly, but I am immensely proud of it. If you're looking for me in the video, I am the one who looks like me.



Now here's the thing: I am fully aware of how dorky this is. One doesn't get much nerdier than being in a handbell choir. In spite of that, it is the lone dorky part of my personality about which I have never been the tiniest bit self-conscious. I only picked it up in my fourth year of college (some people would call this their "senior" year but in my case that term is not nearly specific enough), so this is right about the time the metaphysical concept of "me" started becoming less of an idea I was guessing at and more of a reality I was living in. It was about this time that I shed most of the awkward insecurity I picked up in junior high. So I was perfectly comfortable at this point being a guy who picks up weird hobbies that most people have never heard of.

This was all by way of explanation and is really only incidental to the reason I came here today. Here's my story:
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So today in handbells, somebody played something and it sounded like the chorus from that song "You make me feel like dancing" and I started singing it in my head then I laughed a little. It was pretty cool.

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I believe the response you're looking for is, "Cool story, brah."

Selfish

Just like anybody else, I get lonely from time to time. It doesn't come in days or weeks of self-pity or anything that one might classify as an "emo kid" kind of reaction; it's more like a few minutes in some day every now and again where I realized I haven't talked to anybody for awhile and I start to feel a little isolated.

And immediately, when I feel lonely, two things happen: I get more self-absorbed, and I want everyone else to pay attention to me. Sometimes I'll tweet something (these are usually my worst tweets, neither funny nor insightful nor particularly interesting in any way), other times I'll go through my facebook news feed and make comments on things from people I haven't talked to in weeks/months/years. This is me at my worst, I think. Not because it's malicious or mean or anything like that, it's just pretty selfish.

This isn't something that happens to me a whole lot; if I post a comment on your facebook and we haven't talked in awhile, it's far more likely I just had something I wanted to tell [i]you[/i] in particular or I hadn't heard from you in awhile and wanted to see what was up. Or maybe you posted a status that made me think of some response, and I thought my response was clever enough to share with the world (this is by far the most likely scenario, even if my response wasn't actually all that clever).

I think in the future, when I get that isolated feeling, I'll probably just call some people and ask them questions about their life. The tendency towards self-absorption is tempting but I prefer to avoid it. If quality introspection is what helps me stay stable and content, then neurotic self-obsession is what will drive me to a far less comfortable existence. Asking other people about their lives helps me "widen my lens," so to speak, and see that there's more out there than my peaceful little existence.

Old Conversations

Here is, verbatim, and in its entirety, a conversation I had three years ago. I present it here, without context and for no clear reason.

"So Ray."
(long pause)
"Uh... yeah?"
"Julie wants to know if we ever talk to each other by yelling through the bathroom wall."
(another long pause)
'Well, this would be the first time."
(my turn to pause)
"Okay, talk to you later."
"Yeah."