It is a daunting task indeed to condense 83 years of an adventurous and full life into a few pages, but this has been my task over the last few days. This is my final labor of love towards my Dad. H. W. Vernon Harris was born in Lindale, Georgia, around midnight between November 8 and 9, 1930. He was born at home, and the midwife said that he was born before midnight, but his mother always told him it was after midnight. There was always some mystery about the actual date, and various documentation throughout his life has reflected both. Dad always listened to his mother and celebrated his birthday on the 9th. He weighed 14 pounds at birth. Dad was the seventh out of ten children to his parents. There are no pictures of Dad as a child. Dad’s father, Mr. Harris, was at that time the pastor of the Church of God in Lindale, Georgia. As he raised his family, Mr. Harris pastored churches in the Church of God in Georgia, Florida, Tennessee, and Maine. All this mobility often did not include their possessions; frequently, they gave away everything they had, and piled in the car to move to a new pastoral assignment. The family had a goat, for milking, (as cows were too big and expensive) and when the family moved in their car, they put the goat in a cart that was towed behind. Often the goat would jump out of the cart, and they would have to pull over, chase down the goat, return her to the cart, and then resume the journey. I remember Dad telling stories of childhood that were set in various locations all over the South, and in Maine. Sometimes when they would move for his father to take a new pastoral position, they would move into places with dirt floors, without plumbing or electricity, with straw pallets for beds that they had to make themselves by going out to gather straw by hand. Water was carted in from the creek. The churches that the Mr. Harris pastored were poor, this was between the Great Depression and World War II, and he was often paid in chickens, vegetables, potatoes, or whatever the farming families grew. Mr. Harris always had to keep a second job to sustain his large family, and Dad, as a kid, often helped his father with different jobs. He began working in a lumber mill alongside his father and brother at about age 10. The family moved to Savannah, Georgia, during World War II. Dad, at the age of 14 but looking much older, dropped out of school temporarily and got a job laboring in the shipyards in Savannah during the war. At the end of the war, the family moved to Rome, Georgia. He returned to grade school at that time. As Dad continued in his adolescence, he became rebellious. I suppose it would be difficult to go from being treated as an adult employee in a shipyard to returning to high school and being treated as a youth. He was, as Dad termed it, the “black sheep” of the family. It seemed in most instances, he did exactly what his father told him not to do. His friends gave him the nickname “Jesse James,” because he was quick to brawl. When he lost his temper, he was prone to throw punches. As his family continued to attend the Church of God their father pastored, Dad went to the Baptist church in town and became involved in activities there. This was a statement on his part, going against his family. His family badgered him about returning to their church, and finally, decided to leave him alone. Then, one night during a revival meeting, Dad asked his mother if he had a clean shirt to wear to church. Mom remembers the night he came to church; it caused quite a stir. People whispered up and down the pews “Vernon Harris is at church, Vernon Harris is at church.” Mom was sitting behind him when he came to church that night. She and her friend put their hands on the back of the pew to feel the vibration of the wood as his powerful baritone voice resonated. Dad went forward to the altar call. The visiting minister that was preaching this revival would eventually turn out to be Dad’s sister-in-law. Yes, Dad surrendered to Christ while listening to a woman preacher, Doris, who married his brother Howard. In his early teens Dad began smoking, which was definitely regarded as bad behavior, and his father had done everything to make him stop. He struggled himself to stop smoking after he returned to the Church of God, but the addiction was too powerful. Dad told the story many times of his stopping smoking: he went to his work station and prayed to the Lord, “Lord, if you want me to stop smoking, you’re going to have to do it, because I've done everything that I know to do to stop, and I can’t.” He took his pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes and put them on the shelf at his work station that day, and went all day without a craving. He never smoked another cigarette again. Mom first met Dad before he returned to his father’s church, when she was working in a five and dime store. Dad’s sister also worked there, and he actually liked another girl that was working there. He would come in all dressed up in a suit and hat, and his sister would tell Mom to tease him. Mom would say something about his hat. Dad didn't like Mom. Three months after he returned to church, they eloped in a town called Rising Fawn, Georgia, that you can’t even find on a map anymore. Dad was 17, and Mom was 16. They didn't tell anybody but Mom’s best friend, who was the only witness to this union. When they went back home and showed Mom’s mother the marriage certificate, she threw it in the floor. Mr. Harris told Mom later that it wasn't that he didn't like her, but he was afraid that Dad’s temper and Mom’s stubbornness, they would kill each other. People gave the marriage six months. Last year, in 2013, Mom and Dad celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary. Dad used to say, he asked the Lord for Patience and the Lord gave him Ruby. Dad and Mom moved to Whittier, California shortly after they were married, going on a Greyhound Bus. Mom’s sister and brother in law managed the company store at Leffingwelll Ranch, a citrus farm. Dad went to work on the ranch, and Mom worked in the Minute Maid juice factory picking out bad oranges so they didn't go down the belt. Dad drove a team of mules in the groves. Dad told stories of setting smudge pots by hand on cold winter nights to prevent the fruit from freezing. Dad had worked straight through three days and nights one cold spell. He came home so tired he literally didn’t know where he was, or who Mom was. He told her, “You better straighten up and fly right,” as he went to bed. Dad and Mom met Richard Nixon while working there, as Nixon’s brother owned a restaurant in the area, and Dad, Mom and Donald Nixon became great friends. Dad and Mom moved from there to Indio. Dad was offered a job on another citrus ranch, but there they had date trees as well. He quit the ranch and became a ceramic tile apprentice. Eventually, Dad became a master tile setter. This was 1951 and he worked in the homes of the biggest stars at the time: Bing Crosby, Bob Hope, Hopalong Cassidy, Gene Autry, Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. Dad did the tile work in all their homes. Dad applied for his Exhorter’s license in the Church of God and became an assistant pastor in the church. Dad was in Indio when he was drafted for the Korean War. This was a blow. He took Mom back home to Rome, and then went to Atlanta to be inducted. He was in boot camp in Camp Rooker, Alabama, and was assigned to a special unit that would go to Korea. Mom moved to Kentucky to be near him. Dad would regularly hold Bible studies with the fellow soldiers in his company, and he said it was not unusual for the night to end with the other men gathered around his bunk as he shared the scripture with them. The closest Church of God was in Nashville, and there was a family in Clarksville that traveled to Nashville occasionally on Sundays for service. This family was interested in starting a Church of God in Clarksville. They became acquainted with Dad and Mom and asked if Dad was interested in starting this church as a founding pastor. They had enough money to buy chairs and a piano, and they rented a storefront. They had a lot of friends and service people in the Assembly of God that agreed to support the church effort. The church grew quickly to 50 members, and because Dad was being restricted to base, he felt like he should turn it over to a regular pastor. When they left, they had just started the basement on a new church building. And today the church has a new building, with several hundred members. Dad had a few supernatural experiences while in the Army. He was in a special training camp in Ft. Rooker, Alabama. His family was all praying that he wouldn't have to go overseas to Korea. As the day to ship out drew near, Dad was outside and casually reached down and picked up a handful of pebbles. A voice spoke to him and said “You’ll be leaving the company in as many days according to the amount of pebbles in your hand.” But days wore on and a transfer didn't come. Dad called Mom the night before he was to be shipped out and said he was wrong about the voice and the pebbles. The next morning, as Dad was walking on base, he was told by the Lord to speak to the man next to him, and ask the man if he knew him. But his man was a higher ranking officer and you just don’t address a higher officer. Dad heard a voice that said: That man knows about you and has your orders.” Dad thought he didn't dare, but the voice was compelling. He got up and walked over to the man, and asked, “Do you know me?” The officer looked irritated and said, “I don’t know, who are you?” Dad told him his name, and he said, “Oh yes, I know the name, I just processed your transfer.” The number of pebbles was correct, and the experience stayed with Dad forever. He never went to Korea. He was transferred to Ft Picket, Virginia, and then to Ft, Campbell, Kentucky. After the military, Dad enrolled in Lee College, now Lee University. He completed two years of school, studying to be a minister, and he and Mom lived in the married couples’ and families dorm. At Lee College, Dad learned to fly. In his spare time he would go to the airport and he had a chance to learn how to fly at a bargain price. So, he did. This became his passion. To his last days, he could hear a plane flying overhead and without looking tell you exactly what it is. After college Dad and Mom moved back to Whittier, California. Dad thought he would go into the ministry right away, but he went to work for Sears and Roebuck, as an appliance salesman. This wasn’t exciting, so he quit, and returned to work at a citrus ranch again in Indio, and this time, lived right out in the middle of the citrus grove. They found a Church of God that was in the process of being built, Dad and Mom became part of the church community. Dad was eventually appointed assistant pastor; mom was church clerk and youth leader. Dad led the song service, and the radio program. Mom was the church soloist. This was 1957, and it was at this time that Dad and Mom adopted their first child: a bouncing baby cocker spaniel. They aptly named her Princess. Dad and Mom loved her as their first child. My aunt, Dad’s sister Joyce, recalls visiting them during this time. They had all got in the car to go somewhere, and suddenly Dad said, “Nope, everybody get out, I forgot it was Saturday, and I always take Princess for a ride on Saturdays.” So, he made everyone get out pf the car, and wait while he took the dog for her Saturday ride, then came back and let everyone else get in the car so they could proceed with their trip. Princess lived to be 16. Dad became friends with a builder, and eventually moved to Blythe accepting a position to build and manage some high-end apartments. They stayed there for two years managing the most elite apartment community in the city. After moving to Blythe, he learned to skydive. He did several jumps in Blythe as well as started working on his instructor’s rating and teaching credentials. In addition, Dad took a job as a long-distance trucker, crisscrossing the country hauling all kinds of freight. From there they moved to Riverside, where they stayed for several years. In Riverside, Dad worked as a corporate pilot for a produce company, and then as a loan officer, all the while doing ceramic tile and flight instruction on the side as well. This is also the period when they adopted me. When I was 6, we moved to Tucson, and that brings us to the time when many of Dad’s friends met him, and likely know most of his life experiences for the last half of his life. Instead of focusing on chronology of events, let me now focus on Dad’s character. My dad was a hard worker. He and my mother both taught me that if you tell someone you’re going to do something, then you do it. He taught me that you get out and find work, not to wait for it to come to you, you work with integrity and character with whatever job you are doing. There are no small jobs, only small minds. We started making a list of the jobs that Dad did during his life, and did them all extremely well.
Lumber mill
Shipyard laborer
Shoe shiner, shoe cobbler
Waiter
Painter
Stone mason
Citrus farm worker
Pastor
Construction
Pilot
Medic
Trucker
Drove earth moving equipment
Housing inspector
Office manager
Loan officer
Tile setter
Plumber
My dad was a lifelong learner. He could hold a conversation, and do it well, on almost any topic. He loved to watch documentaries on almost any subject, and this is something that we shared together. His favorite topics were religion, animals, nature, airplanes, automobiles, and military history. Dad shared his love of history and animals with me. Dad was also adventurous; he spent years as a long-distance trucker and I heard many stories of his accidentally taking a semi down narrow streets in San Francisco, Montreal, or Manhattan. Dad was a very generous and helpful person. He also made himself available to others in whatever capacity they needed. Together, in most situations, both Dad and Mom always responded with the question, “What can we do to help?” There are many examples of his generosity, but this is my favorite: I once had a family in my classroom, a poor, single mother with four children who were barely getting by, and the mother rear-ended another car in an accident and then she was out of a car. I shared with my parents their predicament. Dad immediately went to see his mechanic, and they scoured the city for a car. Now, Dad didn't have a lot of money, but he found an older Toyota Corolla which he purchased himself and gave to this mother of four that he had never met before in his life. It didn't matter what I needed or when, Dad was always ready to go on any excursion to get me whatever. With my employment history of working for small non-profit organizations, and his building know-how, he responded to many a call and volunteered his time with whatever we needed in most building-related problems. Dad was creative and had a lot of ingenuity; he would think outside the box to develop solutions to various problems. Dad was fun and adventurous. He jumped out of airplanes and drove cross-country. On the rare occasions it snowed in Tucson, he had me up early, piled into the car with the dog, and went to find where it was the deepest. Almost every summer the three of us went on a three- or four-week road trip across the country. As a result, I think I have seen most of the contiguous 48 states by asphalt. My photo albums are filled with pictures from across this great country. As I mentioned, Dad also loved history, and we would stop and read historical markers, or visit historical sites. He took me to important places such as Gettysburg, Washington DC, and presidential libraries, but we also were regular visitors to Disneyland. Dad was a sensitive person. When I was a teen, Dad drove home one weekend morning and witnessed a scene a few streets down where a set of parents were being arrested and their two young children were crying and reaching for them as the police put them handcuffed into a cruiser, and social services were taking the children. He came home, and felt so deeply for the children, that he wept openly as he relayed this scene to us. Dad loved music. He had a wonderful voice and he could whistle like no other. He could have been a professional whistler. While Dad had an affinity for the southern gospel music of his youth, he had a deep appreciation for classical and opera as well. In recent years, I traveled to musical events more than he, and often I would be at concerts and be hunched over calling Dad on my phone, so that he could listen to the concert. I once went to Massachusetts to see John Williams conduct the Boston Pops, who Dad has a great appreciation for, and Dad was listening in Tucson via phone. As I mentioned, Dad loved animals, dogs especially. About 15 years ago he was driving me somewhere, and my dog, then still in her puppy stage, was in the front seat with us. Out of the driver’s side of the car we passed a farm, and I said, “Look, Maggie, cows.” She raised up, saw the animals passing by, and scrambled to the highest point in the car to bark at them, which was Dad’s head. She literally clung to his cranium like a barking monkey, as he drove, he turned to me, never broke a flat expression, and said, “Next time, could you show her the cows on your side of the car?”
And that brings us to Dad’s sense of humor. He had a well-timed quip for any occasion. He kept the nurses and doctors entertained even while dying. He kept his sense of humor to the very end, telling the nurses things like “Don’t mess up my hair,” and saluting them when they gave him instructions.
Dad left us very quickly, but he knew in whom he has believed, he was sure of his salvation, and he knew where he was going, and this gave him the strength he needed when he told the doctor that when medical science couldn't do anything else for him, he was at peace with that. There is one last thing I would like to say about Dad. He had a secret that most people didn't know about, and I am going to out him today because I think it speaks to his character. Dad entered the military as a conscientious objector. This was something he discussed with his pastor prior to his induction. Dad felt compelled to serve his country in any capacity that they asked, but, he would not kill anyone. One of the officers that Dad had been assigned to chauffeur, when he found out that Dad was a conscientious objector, he told Dad that if he had his way, he would put every single last one of them on the front line and tell them to shoot or be shot. Dad answered, “Well, then I would be shot.” Very recently Dad told me this story, saying that the officer asked him, “What would happen if everyone decided not to pick up a gun?” I said, “Did you tell him then there would be no more war?” Dad laughed and said, “That’s what I was thinking, but I didn't dare tell him that.” But Dad eventually proved his trustworthiness to this officer, and earned respect for his beliefs. When I heard for the first time that Dad was a conscientious objector, I was a teenager, and I thought it was pretty cool. I was too young to have the historical reference of Vietnam and how the phrase conscientious objector took a negative turn during that time in our history. Dad saw the need for defense and worked hard to support those who were defending. But his morals and beliefs would not allow him to take the life of another human being, and he stood up for what he believed in. Dad’s death, for us, his family, will always be associated with Valentine’s Day, which I think is appropriate, but not for the flowers, or the candy or the romance. Historical evidence indicates that Valentine was a martyr, put to death for his Christian beliefs and his refusal to renounce them. For me, Valentine’s Day has never been about hearts and flowers, but a reminder that we should be passionate about our morals, beliefs, and values. At his core, his very essence, this was my father: he knew his God, and he strove every day to be a fine example of a good human being, to the glory of his Creator. He accumulated a massive wealth of friends that he would go any limit to help. I think he was very successful in his efforts. H. W. Vernon Harris passed through the veil on February 13, 2014. He was preceded in death by his parents, Carly Lee Harris and Nina Belle Beardon Harris, and his brothers Howard and Donald Harris, and his sisters Geraldine Harris Reece and Ruth Harris Moody.He was also preceded in death by his beloved brother-in-law Nathan Kay. He is survived by his sisters Mildred Harris Langford and Joyce Harris Kay, his wife, Ruby Harris, his daughter, (me), and numerous very dear nieces and nephews, and his granddog, Patches (Dad would want me to mention him).
COMPARTA UN OBITUARIO
v.1.9.5