Dad's funeral was on a Monday or Tuesday, over a week after he died. Dad had chosen to be cremated. I can't recall now if he was cremated in Virginia and then the ashes were shipped to North Carolina or if his body was shipped back to North Carolina to be cremated. His ashes were put in an urn which is stored at a cemetery in Hickory. Mom's body now resides with Dad's ashes. I guess I should go to the grave sight and visit every so often.
I got a sense that Dad respected the earth, like he desired to live in harmony with nature. He seemed to enjoy stories of the indigenous peoples of this land; he had a deep respect for the American Indian. I wonder if that is why he chose cremation; something to do with what he felt was more natural and a way of natives.
Mom used to tell us kids that Dad was one-eighth Cherokee. Though he had dark skin and high cheek bones, I've been told by others that he wasn't one-eighth Cherokee. But who knows; his family hailed from eastern Tennessee so it wouldn't be surprising if there is mixed blood. I don't know much about our family geneology; it wasn't really discussed growing up.
Dad had an attraction to the mystical. He apparently enjoyed Edgar Alan Poe and even read Poe's works to us kids when we were young, not that that's a soothing choice of literature for young chlidren. When I was around eight or ten years old, Mom and Dad gave me a Ouija Board. But I never believed anything supernatural happened with the Yes-Yes board, though I wanted to believe. Dad also gave me Erich von Daniken's book Chariot of the Gods when I was in elementary school. I read the book and would stargaze through adolescence looking for extra-terrestial salvation.
I wrote a prose about Dad after he died. It was read at his funeral. I don't recall who read it. I don't recall much about the service.
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Mike and Jane, the previous Way Branch leaders in our area, came to Dad's service. About four months prior to Dad's funeral, around October, 1995, they had been made "mark-and-avoid" by Craig Martindale, the second president of The Way. They were 1st Family Way Corps, long-timers. Mike was ordained clergy.
Mike and Jane had overseen The Way Corps Children's Camp every year at the Indiana Campus while The Way Corps parents of those children attended Corps Week at International Headquarters in Ohio. Corps Week was held each year in August right before the international Rock of Ages Festival at Headquarters; Rock of Ages was open to everyone. Corps Week was open to only Way Corps. I never went to Corps week; I always volunteered to work Children's Camp. I loved the Indiana Campus and the kids.
In latter 1994, Mike and Jane had been put on probation from The Way. When a believer was put on probation, they weren't allowed to come to fellowship or hang out with the believers, though Jane and I did go to lunch once. While on probation, the believer was to continue to tithe and communicate with their direct overseer regarding their progress with their "opportunity." We didn't have "problems" in The Way; we had "opportunities." Then at the end of probation time, the powers that be decided whether the person on probation would be welcome back "into the household of believers" or if they would become mark-and-avoid. To my knowledge the believers in the Branch were never told what it was that Mike and Jane had specifically done wrong.
The mark-and-avoid sentence was like excommunication from The Way. People were made mark-and-avoid because of what is stated in Romans 16:17 in the Bible, "...mark them which cause divisions and offences contrary to the doctrine which ye have learned, and avoid them." Romans 13:1-7 commanded us to obey our leadership or suffer damnation and judgement. Mike and Jane had apparently disobeyed and reaped the consequences. In The Way we didn't "punish," we simply allowed the "consequences of one's unbelief." Mark-and-avoid was a consequence.
Mike had officiated mine and John's wedding; we were the first couple he married after he got ordained. Mike had prayed for me when it was speculated by the doctors at the hospital emergency room that I might have a tubal pregnancy. Our daughter was the result of the pregnancy; it wasn't tubal.
Jane had directed my and John's wedding. I wasn't even going to have a wedding but Jane encouraged me to have one; I'm glad we did. Mike and Jane helped with our children when I was sick and had to be hospitalized at various times. John and I used to watch their younger boys when the boys were little. Mike and Jane visited and encouraged Mom and Dad after Dad's accident; they would rearrange their home so Dad could maneuver his wheelchair more easily when Dad would occasionally attend fellowships. Mike and Jane opened their doors to me after I had AWOLed from The Way Corps. Jane had come to my rescue when I was suicidal.
I recall while they were on probation, I would think about them and of course pray. I would think about Jane in certain situations and I'd ask myself, "How would Jane handle this?" She seemed to endeavor to look at the good; she wasn't harsh and judgmental toward others. She would put herself in the other person's shoes.
While Mike and Jane had been on probation previous to their mark-and-avoid sentence, John and I had been serving directly with the Limb Leaders, Bob and Dottie, for about ten months. We then served with Jim and Joy, the new Way Corps in our Area, for about two months. Like Jane, Dottie too had saved my life through that same suicidal episode. In dire straights with a pistol beside me, I called Dottie on the phone. She lived two hours away so couldn't come to my aid. As she kept me on the phone, she wrote a note to Bob to call Mike and Jane to see if one of them could get to my house. Jane arrived at my door about fifteen minutes later. Dottie had her masters in psychology. I had seen her regularly for personal counseling to help with my emotional ups and downs.
John and I felt loyalty to both Bob and Dottie and Mike and Jane. When Mike and Jane were made mark-and-avoid, John and I had to make a choice. We chose The Way. It was a difficult decision. Yet we believed Martindale walked with God, like Moses did in the Old Testament. We also had grown to trust Bob and Dottie and our new local Corps leadership, Jim and Joy.
After they were made mark-and-avoid when I was talking with a believer who was in process of deciding whether or not to continue with The Way, I told him that at at that point I would no longer want to go to Jane for advice on certain things because she would not give me the undiluted Word of God. I had begun to believe Mike and Jane hadn't been towing the line of "the Word;" they had been too tender. Rev. Martindale would sound out that pure Word of God, "It is written" and "thus saith the Lord." The word "saith" was to be pronounced 'seth,' not 'say-eth.' Dr. Wierwille had given that instruction more than once, how to properly pronounce the word, "sayeth."
Even though Mike and Jane were mark-and-avoid, they came to Dad's funeral. Jim and Joy were there. Bob and Dottie weren't; they may have moved to Florida by that time. I thanked Mike and Jane for coming; it was an awkward moment. Yet I was genuinely thankful and I felt for them. I loved Mike and Jane. And I also loved Jim and Joy, Bob and Dottie, and Craig.
I saw Jane in the grocery store once after she and Mike were made mark-and-avoid. It was awkward. We spoke briefly, and I think we hugged.
I saw Jane in the grocery store once after she and Mike were made mark-and-avoid. It was awkward. We spoke briefly, and I think we hugged.
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At Dad's funeral I spoke with Cora. She and I met for the first time face to face at Dad's funeral; we had previously spoken on the phone. Cora worked with a social services home health agency. Cora was sweet, a petite black woman that walked with the use of crutches and braces on her legs.
We were in somewhat casual conversation when she said, "I talked to Mr. Hamby on that Monday before he fell ill. I told him that Monday that he wouldn't be able to come home. That was the last time I talked with him. He was a good man, your daddy was."
I think my heart stopped beating for a moment. Dad died the Friday after that Monday. He wanted more than anything to be able to come home. After hearing the news from Cora, I can't help but think that Daddy gave up. I understand that; he had fought hard to live life as fully as one can with limited use of one's body.
At the time Cora spoke with him, Dad was at the veteran's hospital in Virginia going through some rehab after surgery. That's where he died, alone. The hospital did not inform us until early on Friday that Dad had fallen ill on Wednesday and had gone to sleep and never reawakened. On Friday, there was a major snowstorm on the east coast and interstates were closed. None of the family could get to him. He died that evening. I'm thankful that Mom, myself, and my two children had visited him the weekend before.
I think my heart stopped beating for a moment. Dad died the Friday after that Monday. He wanted more than anything to be able to come home. After hearing the news from Cora, I can't help but think that Daddy gave up. I understand that; he had fought hard to live life as fully as one can with limited use of one's body.
At the time Cora spoke with him, Dad was at the veteran's hospital in Virginia going through some rehab after surgery. That's where he died, alone. The hospital did not inform us until early on Friday that Dad had fallen ill on Wednesday and had gone to sleep and never reawakened. On Friday, there was a major snowstorm on the east coast and interstates were closed. None of the family could get to him. He died that evening. I'm thankful that Mom, myself, and my two children had visited him the weekend before.
For years, I didn't say anything about what Cora told me, except to my husband and a couple close friends.
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