Skeletons in the Family Closet, Part Two: A Shooting in Phillips County

William Mansfield's simple grave marker in Maple Hill Cemetery, Phillips County, ArkansasSupposedly, my great grandfather shot first. 

However, we only have the testimony of his killer for this fact. There were no other witnesses, so ultimately we’ll never know what really happened. All we know for certain is that on April 8, 1920, William P. Mansfield died of four gunshot wounds he received the previous day in Lexa, Arkansas. 

Believe it or not, learning that my great grandfather died in a gunfight is not what shocked me most. The more startling revelation relates to what my great grandmother did afterwards. 

William P. Mansfield was born in Kentucky in 1880, the son of a Scottish immigrant who married an American girl from the bluegrass state. I don’t know a lot about William, and I know even less about his parents, but I’ve learned enough to piece together his movements for the last fifteen years of his life. 

In 1905, William married Daisy Julian, a young woman whose families had settled a couple of generations earlier in the northwest corner of Tennessee in Obion County. Daisy had grown up in Union City, right on the border with Kentucky, where she no doubt had met William. They married on Saturday, April 22, in Alexander County, Illinois. I’m not certain why they went to Illinois to get married, but it’s actually only 70 miles north of Daisy’s hometown.

By 1909, they were a family of four living in Helena, Arkansas: William, Daisy, Mary Elizabeth (age 2) and John my grandfather (age 1). William worked for the Solomon-Moore Land Company, and they all lived in company housing on the south end of town. 

William moved the family wherever he could find the best work to provide for them. The very next year, the family crossed back over to the other side of Mississippi River and settled in Boyle, Mississippi, roughly seventy miles south down river. 

The details surrounding the next few years are sketchy, but by 1920, the Mansfield family had moved back to Helena, Arkansas, where they show up in the 1920 U.S. Census, taken in January of that year. They were no longer living in company housing, and William seems to be working as a freelance carpenter.

Daisy (my great grandmother) and her son, John (my grandfather), 1957 in Memphis, TennesseeIn my previous post, I wrote about John Mansfield (William’s son), my grandfather who died a few months before I was born. John was intelligent and charismatic, but ultimately, his life brought with it much tragedy. In the course of less than two decades, he abandoned two separate families--two wives and seven children combined. In the end, as an alcoholic and diabetic, he died alone in a flophouse of gangrene poisoning because he would not go to the doctor regarding his infected leg. 

I also noted that my grandmother (John’s second wife) felt like her husband could have accomplished more in life had he not had to drop out of school with only a grade school education in order to support the family. 

Why, though, did John have to drop out of school? When I started researching my grandfather and his family, I initially got stuck in 1920 because there were a number of unanswered questions. 

Although I found the family intact in Phillips County, Arkansas, living in the town of Helena in January, 1920, I stumbled upon a marriage record for December of the same year in which a Daisy Mansfield married a man named L. E. A. Yeager. Assuming that there weren’t multiple Daisy Mansfields in Helena, Arkansas, in 1920, I had to wonder what had happened to William Mansfield? Did they divorce? Did something happen to him?

So I dug a little deeper and came across a listing in the Arkansas Death Index for a William Mansfield, who died on April 8, 1920, in Phillips County, Arkansas. Was this my great grandfather? Could he have died at less than 40 years old? To know for certain, I sent off for his death certificate. After I received it, I discovered that it was indeed the William Mansfield of my family tree. 

If not some kind of terminal illness, I halfway expected to discover that William died in some kind of accident--perhaps a misstep in his line of work as a carpenter. I did not expect to see “gunshot wounds” as his cause of death. I was a bit shocked. Part of me, which has no real emotional attachment to this man, thought it sounded a bit exotic to have an ancestor die in a gunfight. 

Nevertheless, I knew there had to be more to this story. How did my great grandfather get into a position in which he died of gunshot wounds?

Assuming that such an event would be big news in a small town in 1920, I contacted the Phillips County Library, which I had learned housed the archives of the local newspaper. After I described the event to one of the local librarians, she told me she would look in the newspaper around the days surrounding William’s death to see if there were any accounts of what happened. 

When I talked to her later that afternoon, the librarian told me that she had found two articles regarding William Mansfield’s death. One was written soon after he had been shot, but while he was still alive. The second one was written after he had already died. She told me she would send the articles to me in the mail.

After I thanked her and was about to hang up, she said, “Oh, and I now know the name of your great grandfather’s killer, if you are interested.” I was certainly interested but had not really thought about it. I assumed that the killer would just be a name to me. Out of curiosity, though, I said, “Yes, please, tell me the killer’s name.”

From The Helena Daily World, April 8, 1920You hear of people’s jaws dropping when hearing shocking news, but it seems like more of a cliche than an actual physical reaction. Yet, I can promise you that my jaw literally dropped when she said that the shooter’s name was L. E. A. Yeager. 

Yes, this was the same man my great grandmother, sweet Daisy, married later that year!

There were no eyewitnesses to what actually happened. The events reported in the paper on April 8, 1920, were based solely on the story of Lester Elgin Archer Yeager, a Phillips County sheriff’s deputy, and the shooter of my great grandfather. On the evening of Wednesday, April 7, 1920, my great grandfather, William P. Mansfield, traveled from his home in Helena fifteen miles to nearby Lexa, Arkansas. 

According to Yeager, the quarrel between the two was over lumber contracts. Yeager also claims that William fired a gun twice before he could even open the door (a little detail that still sounds odd to me--was he trying to shoot through the door?). Then, Yeager returned fire shooting William four times. He died the next day. 

Of course it’s tragedy enough that Daisy lost her husband in such a violent manner. Yet it absolutely blows me away that eight months later, she married her husband’s killer!

There is obviously much more to this story, and it will require an eventual trip to Helena, Arkansas, to look for more answers. In the meantime, though, I have lots of questions. For instance, I don’t blame Daisy for marrying so quickly. That was common in those days for means of support, especially when there were children involved. But why would she marry her husband’s shooter? Was William Mansfield a really bad man and Yeager seen as a savior? Were Daisy and Yeager involved in an illicit relationship? Did Yeager have some kind of power over Daisy and the rest of the family?

From The Helena Daily World, April 9, 1920And what about my grandfather, John? Even if his father was a bad man, such events had to have taken a terrible toll on a 12-year-old boy. To lose a father at such a formative time in a young boy’s life would have long-term consequences. And what did John think about his mother marrying his father’s killer? 

I will always want to be clear that I don’t want to excuse my grandfather’s bad decisions in life. He made poor choices and they were his direct responsibility. And yet, with the knowledge I have now--even if still incomplete--I have to admit that I judge him less harshly than I did before. 

Is it any surprise that someone who had experienced such tragic loss at such a young age might have trouble maintaining long-term relationships later in life? Again, even if William was not a nice guy, young boys often want to look up to their fathers, often overlooking their flaws. What kind of feelings were inside 12-year-old John when his mother married his father's killer? When she brought him into their home? Is it surprising at all that as an adult, he might try to futiley escape these memories in a bottle? 

In my next and final installment, I’ll offer some closing reflections on these events and my grandfather’s life. And I may even throw in a little bit of philosophical speculation in regard to this very enthralling section of my family tree. Check back in a few days.

As always, your thoughts, questions, comments, and rebuttals are welcome below.

Skeletons in the Family Closet, Part One: The Grandfather I Never Knew

John at 49 in 1957, ten years before he died. I never knew my paternal grandfather. He died five months before I was born.

John William Richard Mansfield (one of many variations of his name) died during the first week of July (we don’t know the exact day) in 1967. Estranged from the family, he died alone in Memphis, Tennessee, as a result--according to his death certificate--of septicemia. 

If you’re not familiar with septicemia, I’ll save you the bother of looking it up: it’s blood poisoning. My grandfather, John, had two conflicting maladies; he was both diabetic and alcoholic. The two do not go well together because consumed alcohol converts to sugar in the digestive system. Moreover, John was not one to faithfully take his insulin injections. 

About a week before he died, my father’s older half-brother, Johnnie, paid his father a visit. John had a wound on one of his legs that looked badly infected. Actually, it was gangrenous. Johnnie told his father that he need to go to the doctor, but John wouldn’t go. He knew they would remove his leg, and he felt that he just couldn’t live as an amputee. Very true, but I'm sure not as he meant it. 

I’ve heard hushed stories about my grandfather, John Mansfield, all my life. As I said, I never knew him. I also heard that I had aunts and uncles I’d never met--as well as cousins--all from a marriage my grandfather had to a woman who was not my grandmother.  

My grandfather was born on March 17, 1908, somewhere in Kentucky (we’re not certain exactly where). His parents were William P. Mansfield (born Nov 4, 1880) and Daisy Dean Julian (born sometime in August, 1882). There was also a sister, Mary Elizabeth, about a year older than John, whom the surviving family knew as “Aunt Beth.” I’d never heard of any of them except for John until a few months ago.

Frankly, John Mansfield was not an overly responsible individual (and that’s being very kind). In 1931, he married Ena Prier, and they had four children--two boys and two girls. But sometime around 1938, John started seeing Maurene (yes, that spelling is correct) Fowler, my grandmother, in Little Rock, Arkansas. When Maurene found out John was married, she broke things off with him. She told him she was not the kind of woman who would date a married man.

Maurene was nearly 30 years old when she had started seeing John. I have very distinct memories of my grandmother, but they all come about three decades after these events and beyond. When I remember her, she’s at near saint-level in my mind. She was a pillar of her church when I knew her. I’m sure she could have told you her sins, but I couldn’t tell you what they were. I never saw them.

Therefore it’s hard to imagine a man like John being willing to leave a wife and four children for my grandmother. And even after he came calling again in 1939, with the ink still fresh on the papers of his divorce from Ena, it boggles my mind that Maurene would have anything to do with him. Perhaps it was her age. I have no idea how many suitors had come calling in her younger days, but I’m sure that by the age of 31, the number had drastically dwindled.  

And yet history has a funny way of repeating itself. In late 1939, John and Maurene got married. After they had three children, one of whom is my father, John simply disappeared one day. I believe it was around 1947, but I could be off a year or two. By the time he came back about half a decade later, begging Maurene to take him back, she simply wouldn’t hear of it. She’d worked three jobs at times to support herself and three children. Maurene was college educated (a rarity for women in those days) which allowed her to teach elementary school, but an Arkansas teacher’s salary in the 1940s and 50s was not enough to make ends meet. 

The charismatic John Mansfield at 20 (1928). On the left, a family friend, Aubrey; and on the right, John's sister, Beth.I don’t blame my grandmother for not taking my grandfather back. I have no doubt she probably loved him even years later. From everything I can tell, he was an extremely charismatic individual. But his increased drinking had brought chaos into her life years before, and now she had to think of what would bring the greatest stability for her three children. John and Maurene never divorced, but they would never live in the same house again either. John moved to Memphis where much of his family from his first marriage lived. 

In spite of John’s faults, there were some positives. My father tells me how smart his father was. And this information comes not from his own memory, but from the testimony of his mother, Maurene. She said there wasn’t anything mechanical that he couldn’t figure out. He could take any device apart, fix it, and put it back together again. My grandmother told my father that she really believes he could have been something more if it weren’t for the fact that he had to drop out of school after about the fifth grade to help support the family.

Also, I’ve recently met some of my “half” first cousins--that is, grandchildren of John and his first wife, Ena--who are a bit older than me and remember him. Although John’s wives and children had great reason to be wary of him, his grandchildren who knew him seem to have fond memories of their brief experiences with him. They describe John as kind and funny, even if he did tend to always smell a bit like tobacco and whiskey. One of my cousins told me that she really liked her grandfather, but her father didn't let him come around much.

It’s easy to judge my grandfather harshly. Certainly no one can excuse the abandonment of not one, but two separate families. But where did John’s life first take a turn for the worse? 

No one living now seemed to know the exact circumstances that led to my grandfather’s disadvantaged childhood, vaguely described years ago by my grandmother. As I began digging into the past, I discovered a family scandal that is not only shocking to me--even weeks after I first discovered it--but still sounds like something more the stuff of fiction than real life. Nevertheless, I have the historical records and newspaper reports that prove what happened on the night of April 7, 1920. 

I’ll provide the jaw-dropping account of those events in my next installment. 

As always, your questions, thoughts, comments or rebuttals are always welcome below. 

Go See Tyler Perry's Good Deeds and Support Homeless Youth through Covenant House

I haven't had a chance to see the movie yet, but I was contacted a few days ago with a request to alert my readers to the opportunity to see Tyler Perry's Good Deeds and at the same time support Covenant House, which provides food, clothing, shelter and support for homeless young people.

Here is a brief explanation from the correspondence I received:

Essentially, Good Deeds: Great Needs is an initiative to provide support for Covenant House, a non-profit organization that provides hearty meals, warm beds, and safe shelter to homeless youth.  We are partnering with Gift Card Giver, an Atlanta-based organization that collects unused gift cards and distributes remaining balances to non-profit organizations, will be donating all gift cards collected through Good Deeds: Great Needs to Covenant House. Also, in support of the initiative, Lionsgate has agreed to make a financial donation in support of Covenant House each time the Good Deeds:Great Needs video is shared through www.gooddeedsgreatneeds.com 

I'm certain Good Deeds is worth seeing, but I've followed Covenant House for many years, and I know for certain that this ministry is worth your support. So go see Good Deeds (it opened this weekend) and support the good deeds carried out through Covenant House. 

I Cannot Write a Review for Safe House

I saw most of Safe House today.

I say most because in what I think was the final scene (Ryan Reynolds was sitting in Sam Shepard's office), suddenly the screen went white. The final scene (if it was the final scene) did not conclude. No credits. Just a white screen and then the advertisements that play between showings. 

There were only about eight of us in this screen, but my buddy got up to alert someone from Shelbyville's [Not So] Great Escape 8 Theater regarding what had happened. A representative of Shelbyville's [Not So] Great came in to inform us that they would correct the error and someone would come back in a moment to update us on the situation. 

Two people left, but the rest of us waited for about 10 minutes until another representative of Shelbyville's [Not So] Great came back into our screen. She told us that unfortunately, they would not be able to take us back to the point in the movie where we were when the movie ended. In fact, we would not be seeing the end of the movie at all.

This also meant we would not be watching the credits either.

Now...I did take my so-called "free ticket," but honestly, I was a bit put off. I mean, who knows if I'll ever see the end of Safe House. I'm not going to take my free ticket and sit through the whole movie again just to see the ending. I'm not going to rent the movie in a few months just to see the ending. Who would do that? 

I guess that means that I think Safe House was a bit too tedious to watch again so soon. But overall, did I like it? I don't know--I didn't see the ending. And an ending can make or break a movie, but that was taken from me, and evidently the crew on duty was not competent enough to fix it.

But I know this: I definitely don't recommend Shelbyville [Not So] Great Escape 8.

For Valentines Day: A Love Story from the Book of Tobit

The Wedding Night of Tobias and Sarah by Dutch painter Jan Steen (1626 - 1679)

From Tobit 6:14-18... 

τότε ἀποκριθεὶς Τωβείας εἶπεν τῷ Ῥαφαήλ Ἀζαρία ἀδελφέ, ἤκουσα ὅτι ἑπτὰ ἤδη ἐδόθη ἀνδράσιν, καὶ ἀπέθανον ἐν τοῖς νυμφῶσιν αὐτῶν· τὴν νύκτα ὁπότε εἰσεπορεύοντο πρὸς αὐτὴν καὶ ἀπέθνησκον. καὶ ἤκουσα λεγόντων αὐτῶν ὅτι δαιμόνιον ἀποκτέννει αὐτούς. καὶ νῦν φοβοῦμαι ἐγώ· ὅτι αὐτὴν οὐκ ἀδικεῖ, ἀλλ᾿ ὃς ἂν θελήσῃ ἐγγίσαι αὐτῆς, ἀποκτέννει αὐτόν. μονογενής εἰμι τῷ πατρί μου, μὴ ἀποθάνω, καὶ κατάξω τὴν ζωὴν τοῦ πατρός μου καὶ τῆς μητρός μου μετ᾿ ὀδύνης ἐπ᾿ ἐμοὶ εἰς τὸν τάφον αὐτῶν· καὶ υἱὸς ἕτερος οὐχ ὑπάρχει αὐτοῖς ἵνα θάψῃ αὐτούς. καὶ λέγει αὐτῷ Οὐ μέμνησαι τὰς ἐντολὰς τοῦ πατρός σου, ὅτι ἐνετείλατο σοι γυναῖκα ἐκ τοῦ πατρός σου; καὶ νῦν ἄκουσόν μου, ἀδελφέ, καὶ μὴ λόγον ἔχε τοῦ δαιμονίου τούτου καὶ λάβε. καὶ γινώσκω ἐγὼ ὅτι τὴν νύκτα ταύτην δοθήσεταί σοι γυνή. καὶ ὅταν εἰσέλθῃς εἰς τὸν νυμφῶνα, λάβε ἐκ τοῦ ἥπατος τοῦ ἰχθύος καὶ τὴν καρδίαν καὶ ἐπίθες ἐπὶ τὴν τέφραν τῶν θυμιαμάτων, καὶ ἡ ὀσμὴ πορεύσεται καὶ ὀσφρανθήσεται τὸ δαιμόνιον καὶ φεύξεται, καὶ οὐκέτι μὴ φανῇ περὶ αὐτὴν ἐπανελεύσεται τὸν πάντα αἰῶνα. καὶ ὅταν μέλλῃς γίνεσθαι μετ᾿ αὐτῆς, ἐξεγέρθητε πρῶτον ἀμφότεροι καὶ προσεύξασθε καὶ δεήθητε τοῦ κυρίου τοῦ οὐρανοῦ ἵνα ἔλεος γένηται καὶ σωτηρία ἐφ᾿ ὑμᾶς. καὶ μὴ φοβοῦ, σοὶ γάρ ἐστιν μεμερισμένη πρὸ τοῦ αἰῶνος, καὶ σὺ αὐτὴν σώσεις, καὶ μετὰ σοῦ πορεύσεται, καὶ ὑπολαμβάνω ὅτι ἔσονται σοι ἐξ αὐτῆς παιδία καὶ ἔσονταί σοι ὡς ἀδελφοί· μὴ λόγον ἔχε. καὶ ὅτε ἤκουσεν Τωβείας τῶν λόγων Ῥαφαὴλ καὶ ὅτι ἔστιν αὐτῷ ἀδελφὴ ἐκ τοῦ σπέρματος τοῦ οἴκου τοῦ πατρὸς αὐτοῦ, λίαν ἠγάπησεν αὐτὴν καὶ ἡ καρδία αὐτοῦ ἐκολλήθη εἰς αὐτήν. (LXX, emphasis added)

Tobias replied to Raphael, ‘Brother Azarias, I have been told that she has already been given in marriage seven times and that each time her bridegroom has died in the bridal room. He died the same night as he entered her room; and I have heard people say it was a demon that killed them, and this makes me afraid. To her the demon does no harm because he loves her, but as soon as a man tries to approach her, he kills him. I am my father’s only son, and I have no wish to die. I do not want my father and mother to grieve over me for the rest of their lives; they have no other son to bury them.’ The angel said, ‘Have you forgotten your father’s advice? After all, he urged you to choose a wife from your father’s family. Listen then, brother. Do not worry about the demon; take her. This very evening, I promise, she will be given you as your wife. Then once you are in the bridal room, take the heart and liver of the fish and lay a little of it on the burning incense. The reek will rise, the demon will smell it and flee, and there is no danger that he will ever be found near the girl again. Then, before you sleep together, first stand up, both of you, and pray. Ask the Lord of heaven to grant you his grace and protection. Do not be afraid; she was destined for you from the beginning, and you are the one to save her. She will follow you, and I pledge my word she will give you children who will be like brothers to you. Do not worry.’ And when Tobias heard Raphael say this, when he understood that Sarah was his sister, a kinswoman of his father’s family, he fell so deeply in love with her that he could no longer call his heart his own. (New Jerusalem Bible, emphasis added)

 And you thought you had a rough time in your courtship.

Elijah by Matt Schorr (A Review)

Matt Schorr's Elijah caught my attention when it was featured at Kindle Nation Daily last year. The description of the book intrigued me, so I picked it up then, but only recently got around to reading it. From the description on Amazon:

One Lord. One faith. One baptism. These are the dictates that rule Antioch, a small, rural community tucked away in the hills of Kentucky. There is no dissension. No discord or strife. All of Antioch's citizens gather each week without fail at one church. One church and no other: ChristPoint. The Rev. John Joshua Hutchinson serves as pastor for the church and indeed the entire community. As Antioch's sole spiritual leader, he holds near-absolute power over all who live there. But that's about to change. A mysterious stranger is about to enter Antioch, an unassuming man with a stranger power all his own. His name is Elijah, and he wields a power like no one in history--save one. But who is he? What is he? Can he be trusted? Elijah's presence will challenge not only the power Rev. Hutchinson holds over Antioch, but also the mindsets of everyone in his community.

I'll admit that I found the idea of the story better than the actual book itself. This is Schorr's first published book from what I can tell, so perhaps we should cut him some slack. This book had potential, but its flaws keep it from reaching them.

Certainly, the idea of a mysterious stranger from out of town, arriving to save the community from a local tyrant is not a new one. We've seen that in plenty of westerns. In fact, in case the reader misses the connection, Schorr even mentions the genre at one point in the story:

"Nathan had lain down on the sofa, and Joshua found something on television he liked, some old movie on cable starring the legendary Clint Eastwood Joshua didn’t recognize.   Nathan was plenty eager to see it.  He’d always loved westerns, especially the 'spaghetti westerns' that starred Eastwood.  'Give the Duke his due,' he’d once told Joshua, 'but the Man With No Name’s the best cowboy that ever lived'" (Kindle Location 4802).

And that is part of the problem with the book--it tells us too much. Like a kid having to explain his joke in case his listeners miss it, Schorr fills in too many of the blanks for us.

An example of this is at the end of the story, when we're given a summary of the future for every principal character like the ending of a National Lampoon movie. It's not even enough to know that one character is dead. Schorr writes, "Afterward, they had the body cremated.  And neither Lori nor Elijah ever learned what became of the ashes" (Kindle location 5397). Really? I'm not certain what became of my Uncle Edgar's ashes. Does this matter? And considering one of the characters mentioned in the above quotation leaves town soon after the events of the story, not knowing whatever became of the ashes makes little sense.

By itself, an example like the one above may sound picky, but the book is full of clichés and throwaway details such as this which should have been trimmed from the final story. Even the final scene contains a cliché, which could have possibly worked, but Schorr makes the mistake of bringing too much attention to it with the very last sentence.

In regard to the mysterious-stranger-arriving-in-town genre, the story always works best when the stranger remains mysterious. Yet in Schorr's story, we're given the entire backstory of the Elijah character. And not just his story--we learn his father's story, too. In countless movies and books, we've probably often wondered about the background of "the mysterious stranger," but Schorr gives us so much detail here that the enjoyment of the story is significantly lessened.

Perhaps Schorr could be defended by saying the backstory humanizes Elijah. Yet the problem remains that this character has unexplainable supernatural abilities. If the reader were left wondering at the end if perhaps Elijah was an angel, an alien, or the return of his biblical namesake, the story would have probably worked much better. 

The town's pastor, Joshua Hutchinson, is the story's primary villain. Schorr works hard to make certain he is a complex character, and he is, in fact. The pastor's history is intertwined with that of another main character in the story. His desire to be God's servant seems genuine, but like all of us, he's quite flawed. Unlike all of us (but certainly some of us), he's a bit of a narcissist. 

After his rise to power in the community and ultimate control, the pastor becomes more concerned for his own kingdom instead of God's kingdom. "The good Reverand [sic] wasn’t interested in spreading God’s message; he wanted everyone to listen to his message.  And only his message.  The only strength he was interested in was his own" (Kindle location 4864).

Of course we've all known or heard of pastors like this. They can be incredibly destructive to their faith communities, especially when the church becomes little more than a personality cult and their own personal playground. Unfortunately, Schorr doesn't really give Joshua any room for redemption. Unlike the flawed pastor portrayed by Robert Duvall in the movie The Apostle, the pastor in Elijah continues on a downward spiral with no hope of redeeming himself from his mistakes. This kind of plot course can often make for good tragedy, but only if the character has positive qualities in the beginning. Schorr never really presents Joshua with these. More on this subject in a moment.

A lack of parallel atrributes between the story's protagonist and antagonist bothered me, too. Elijah is clearly a mysterious character whose mysterious ability to heal is given numerous treatments by Schorr to demonstrate the supernatural aspect of it. Elijah offers no explanation for this power other than what he was told by his father, whose sanity we have great reason to doubt. Although Elijah is a bit of a seeker, the implication is that his power is from God whether he understands that or not.

Joshua, on the other hand, also demonstrates a seemingly supernatural ability: he has managed to merge all churches in his town into one non-denominational mega-church. He's presented as an extremely charismatic individual, capable of controlling the hearts and minds of all but a very few of the townspeople. Yet in the scenes of the book in which he plays a prominent part, he comes across--at least to me--as a bit wormy. If portrayed correctly, he should be attractive to the reader as well. 

For example, in the Bible King Saul is presented as a truly tragic (in the literary sense of the word) character. The close reader is drawn to him and identifies with the prophet Samuel's viewpoint, wanting Saul to do well. But like Samuel, the reader is let down and even saddened when Saul falls out of God's favor by his own actions and weak character. Schorr's story could have been much more powerful if he had portrayed Joshua in this way, but that never happens. The pastor remains the villain from the beginning. 

Moreover, if Joshua is not a naturally charismatic character to the reader, then how did he unite all the town's churchgoers under his pastoral reach? I mean, I live in a small Kentucky community, too, where the Methodist church is across the street from the Baptist church; and the Church of Christ and the Disciples of Christ churches are within walking distance of the other two. I honestly cannot imagine all four of these churches coming together under one individual if they can't even come together for a community Easter sunrise service anymore. 

So how did Joshua possibly gain control over all but a handful of believers in his small town? Hints are dropped along the way that he has a near-supernatural control over townspeople, but this is never really explored by Schorr. If it had turned out that Joshua had made some kind of literal deal with he devil early on in his ministry, his success of attraction would have been a good counterbalance to Elijah's ability to heal. This would have also worked nicely with Joshua's continued insistence in the story that Elijah's supernatural ability to heal came from his being a false prophet. There would have been a fitting element of irony if it turned out in the end that Joshua himself was actually the false prophet. 

Yet in the end, Schorr doesn't capitalize on any of these kinds of plot points that seem to be so readily set up in the story. It's one thing to diverge from standard plot devices to surprise the reader, but that only works if the alternative outcome is equally satisfying. And that just didn't happen for me in Elijah.  

Although Matt Schorr lives in the same state I do, I don't know him. However, if I had to armchair psychoanalyze his story, I'd have to guess that he is someone who grew up going to church (his knowledge of churchy vocabulary and dialogue indicate this), but at some point grew to distrust organized religion, perhaps because of a bad experience with a very controlling pastor or other religious authority figure. Thus, his book Elijah plays out like a spiritual revenge fantasy. The premise for the story is a good one, but unfortunately, it does not live up to its potential. 

On a more positive note, I often find in self-published books frequent grammatical errors, misspellings, comma splices and other issues that continue to indicate to me that good editors are still needed. However, other than the misspelling indicated in one of the quotations above, I found Schorr's book to be quite clean in this regard. Nevertheless, it's too bad Schorr didn't have access to someone who could trim extraneous information and smooth out incomplete plot devices. 

Act of Valor (A Review)

Courtesy of Grace Hill Media, Kathy and I saw a free advance screening of Act of Valor, an upcoming motion picture featuring active Navy SEALs.

Before the movie began, a representative from Grace Hill Media told us that everyone we saw in uniform in the film was an actual active soldier. That's probably a bit of an exaggeration; however, it is well-known that the eight principal Navy SEALs in the movie are the real deal. They're not just Navy SEALs, but active Navy SEALs. Since they are active, their real names are not used in the credits for the movie.

I don't know if it will be featured with the full release of the film, but in our advance screening, there was a brief introduction to the film from directors Mike McCoy and Scott Waugh of the Bandito Brothers production company. In preparation for the movie they spent six months with active Navy SEALs and came to the conclusion that actors could not convincingly portray what they observed. Having decided to use real SEALs in the characters' roles, they were given unprecedented access not only to the soldiers, but also to military equipment and locations. 

The movie's story revolves around a SEALs team's efforts to recover a kidnapped CIA agent and thwart a terrorist plot against the United States. Non-combat dialogue between the eight principal soldiers is the movie's primary weak point as these men are not professional actors. These scenes are somewhat reminiscent of the level of acting in recent films from Sherwood Pictures (not in any way affiliated with Act of Valor). 

However, the real advantage of using actual soldiers for the film comes in the combat sequences and provides a level of realism that I doubt any actors (of any caliber) could have offered. Kathy and I both found it absolutely fascinating to watch these professional soldiers in very realistic situations. Their skills for stealth, professionalism, and ability to make quick decisions were absolutely engrossing. 

Back in May of last year, if you saw footage of the White House staff watching Navy SEALs ambush Osama Bin Laden's compound in Pakistan via the soldiers' helmet cams, you have a glimpse into the reaction of our audience last night. The combat scenes were incredibly intense, and at one point I looked around the theater to see hundreds of wide-eyed movie goers with their hands in front of their faces, just like the President's cabinet earlier this year. 

I won't give away the ending of the movie, but I will say that it was a bit predictable at a certain level. Considering the title of the movie in the singular and considering that there is in the plot a formulaic adaptation of the old cop movie "I just have this last case to solve before I can finally retire!" shtick, the final scenes are not overly surprising. Nevertheless, even if predictable, they were still quite moving. Even though the story itself was fictitious, the reality never left me that these were real soldiers and the events in the film depicted the kinds of actual situations that our soldiers--and their families--find themselves in every day.

No doubt this movie will inspire a new generation of young men to aspire to becoming SEALs themselves, although the reality remains that achieving such status has even less likelihood than the average teenager's goal of becoming a professional athlete. The SEALs are clearly the elite of the elite in our nation's defense. In spite of the fact that this world can be a very dangerous place to live at times, I went to bed last night feeling much safer after seeing this film.

Act of Valor, rated R for strong violence including some torture and for language, will be released nationwide on February 24, 2012.

My First (and Most Important) Bible Teacher

Currently, in the Sunday morning Bible study I teach, we are going through the Book of Deuteronomy. A couple of weeks ago, while discussing Deut 4, these verses became the focus of our conversation for the morning:

“Only be on your guard and diligently watch yourselves, so that you don’t forget the things your eyes have seen and so that they don’t slip from your mind as long as you live. Teach them to your children and your grandchildren. The day you stood before the LORD your God at Horeb, the LORD said to me, ‘Assemble the people before Me, and I will let them hear My words, so that they may learn to fear Me all the days they live on the earth and may instruct their children.’” (Deut 4:9–10, HCSB)

As many of you may know, the context of the Book of Deuteronomy surrounds Moses' instructions to what is essentially a new generation of Israelites before they enter the land promised to their ancestor Abraham. Moses reminds the Israelites of what has taken place before them, and he repeats the law (hence our name for the Book) to them lest they forget. To make certain that the Israelites' faith doesn't end with that generation, they are instructed to teach what they've seen and heard to their children and grandchildren.

HCSB bullet on "fear"Probably the majority of participants in the Bible study I teach have children, and this dynamic dominated a lot of our discussion. Our church is also in the middle of bringing in a new student minister (what was called a youth minister in my day, but I guess that doesn't sound as cool anymore). Through our discussion, the parents in our group recognized that just as the Israelites didn't depend upon their religious leaders for the spiritual teaching given to their children, today's parents must also take responsibility for the faith development of their own children. 

Church leaders are important. Moses was certainly important! However, the ultimate responsibility for a child's spiritual nurture belongs to parents (and grandparents!). Note that the instructions for this in Deuteronomy entailed not only teaching God's word to children, but also required parents to give testimony ("what you have seen and heard") of their own journey of faith. Believing parents can't hand their kids off to church leaders with the assumption that their children will grow in their faith, any more than parents can depend solely on a child's school teachers for all education. Not only does education start at home, faith begins there as well.

No books in this picture, but in this chair Mom read to me nearly every single day when I was little.This made me think back to my own experience. Some of my very earliest memories have to do with my mother reading to me. She not only read to me, she also taught me to read before I even started school. When I was very young, I would sit in her lap, in a rocking chair that she still has to this day. From what she tells me, she began reading to me even before I could form a sentence of my own. And she did this nearly every day until I could read on my own. No wonder these are some of my earliest memories. 

Mom read all kinds of books to me, but I especially remember her reading Bible stories to me. We had two Bible story books. I can't remember the name of one, but the other one was Kenneth Taylor's Bible in Pictures for Little Eyes (yes, the Kenneth Taylor who paraphrased The Living Bible—he knew how to explain the Bible to people of any age).

The Bible in Pictures for Little Eyes contained short Bible stories confined to one page each, along with full-color pictures that I often "studied" for long periods of time all by myself. Each story also included a couple of discussion questions that Mom read to me, and I would then answer. We had our own regular Bible study together—just the two of us!

Sometimes I asked Mom questions. She usually knew the answers, but I got back "We're not supposed to ask that" in reply to my continual pressing for an answer to the question, "If God made everything, who made God?" Mom was a Bible teacher, not a philosopher. 

One of my two Bible story books from my childhood.Mom didn't just teach me the Bible; she taught it elsewhere, too. I can remember both of my parents, probably because they were very young themselves in those days, working with the high school students at our church (we didn't have any professional youth or student ministers back then). In the summer, when I went to Vacation Bible School, Mom was there, creatively teaching stories from the Bible to me and all my friends. She didn't just teach us the stories, she made us understand the principles learned from those stories to help us in our words and actions toward each other. Eventually, she even taught my Sunday School class, and all of this demonstrated to me a consistency in her own faith both at home and elsewhere. 

I've had lots of Bible teachers over the years, but undeniably, Mom was my first Bible teacher. However, I've often heard psychologists note that the first five years of our lives are possibly the most important developmentally for determining who we are and who we will become as adults. If this is true (and I believe it is), that means that Mom was not only my first Bible teacher, she was also my most important Bible teacher. 

For those fortunate enough to be parents who might be reading this, don't minimize how important your role is in developing your child's faith. Even if perhaps you weren't your child's first Bible teacher, you can still be the most important. Don't leave this role to someone else; it's yours.

Ranking the Star Wars Hexalogy

Image swiped from Wikipedia, but the drop shadow is all me.This past Sunday, a buddy of mine asked me if I'd be willing to go with him and his son to see "the first Star Wars movie" because evidently it's being re-released at theaters, but this time in 3-D. I immediately said I'd go. I even said I'd wear my "Han shot first!" T-shirt, which I don't actually have, but would be willing to get for the occasion.

Then, as we discussed plans, I realized that when referring to "the first Star Wars movie," my friend and I meant two very different things. He was referring to part one: that awful, awful Phantom Menace prequel. When I think of "the first Star Wars movie," I think of the first Star Wars movie—the one released in 1977, the one that originally did not have the subtitle "Part IV: A New Hope" when I saw it at the Ruston, Louisiana, Village Cinema (which had a total of two, count 'em, two screens!). 

Yes, my friend and I are not the same age. I was born in 1967, and he was born in 1978. Normally, that's not an issue with us, but here it mattered. You see, he didn't see Star Wars (no subtitle needed) in its initial run because he wasn't born yet. How could he possibly appreciate the real first movie as much as I do? He was only 21 when The Phantom Menace was released in 1999. Me—I was 32. He was young and impressionable, probably still very idealistic and naive. I was old enough to recognize [insert expletive here] when I saw it. 

So in the end, I told him I'd think about it. I mean, I hate to think of sitting through Phantom Menace again. It's the worst of the bunch. And to see it in 3-D means I'd have to pay above the price of a regular movie ticket. Not to mention the fact that a "Han shot first!" t-shirt would be meaningless at a showing of The Phantom Menace.

Nevertheless, I started thinking about the six movies, which overall, aren't that great (confession: I've always been more of a Star Trek fan). And that led me to rank them, which I'll list for you here from best to worst.

1. Star Wars: Part IV, A New Hope. I'm begrudgingly adding the subtitle, which, again, was not present in 1977. Later on, George Lucas would claim that when he produced the first Star Wars movie, he actually had nine parts in mind, and he was purposefully starting in the middle. He's such a liar. The first Star Wars movie is a complete package from beginning to end. It can be watched by itself without the need for anything else. Here are all the character archetypes with a complete "space opera" contained merely in the one movie. The novelization by Lucas was admittedly pretty good, too, as was the original dramatized audio production that came out not too long afterwards (on cassettes!). 
   
   
2. Star Wars: Part V, The Empire Strikes Back. I could almost rank this movie number one, but since it wouldn't exist without the first movie, I'm ranking it second. But this movie had everything. We realized that Han really was cooler than Luke, especially when Han said to Leia "I know" at the end of the movie. The scene between Darth Vader and Luke at the end is one of the greatest movie moments I've ever beheld, even if the big reveal was spoiled for me ahead of time because I'd read the Marvel Comics adaptation before I saw the movie. 
   
   
3. Star Wars: Part VI: Return of the Jedi. This is where the series really began to go downhill, but it's still better than any of the prequels. This movie has its strengths, but the ewoks totally ruined it for me forever. Jub jub. 
   
   
4. Star Wars: Part III: The Revenge of the Sith. This movie is clearly the best of the prequels, but that's not saying a whole lot. Nevertheless, because we expected a big finale to transform Anakin into Darth Vader, this movie had the action, momentum and spirit that I wished the other two prequels had possessed. I should note, however, that the scene where Anakin kills the Jedi children (implied, but not actually shown) makes him, in my eyes, unredeemable and pretty much ruins the ending of Return of the Jedi for me. It was simply too strong, too much.
   
   
5. Star Wars: Part II, The Clone Wars. No joke, I fell asleep for about ten minutes during the movie. Really, it was that boring. One example: the scene where the main characters were in the coliseum held absolutely no suspense for me. This the problem with prequels: I knew the characters had to survive, so I was never concerned for any of them. And this is the movie where, if we had any doubts before, we learned once and for all that George Lucas cannot write romantic dialogue.
   
   
6. Star Wars: Part I, The Phantom Menace. The worst of the worst, and definitely the worst of the six. Both the young Anakin and the Jar Jar Binks character were obnoxious to the point of absurdity. I had difficulty connecting to any of the characters because they were written so flat. When I saw the pod race (or whatever it was called) and realized that undoubtedly it was being included into the movie for a video game tie-in, I felt totally betrayed. It was as if someone tried to reproduce my entire childhood as a cheap, foreign-made, plastic knock-off. In addition to that, the entire plot about the trade route blockade and political intrigue was near-impossible to follow. I actually watched the movie again (I know, I know) just to pay attention to this part of it, to see if maybe I paid attention and understood this plotline better, I'd appreciate the movie more. No such luck. Oh, and that part where it's explained to Anakin that the Force is the result of midi-chlorians...unforgivable!

So there's my ranking. I don't know if I'll go to the movie or not, but I can tell you that I don't really want to. But there's one small part of me—the same part that was inspired in 1977 by what I saw on the screen—that wants to think that perhaps this time I'll appreciate Phantom Menace and all my hostility toward Lucas and the prequels will disappear like Obi Wan's physical form after his fight with Darth Vader. But something tells me that's just wishful thinking.  

What's Lucas going to do next? A 3-D version of American Graffiti? 

Feel free to leave your questions, thoughts, comments and rebuttals in the comments section, along with your own ranking of the movie. 

Update on Monday, February 13, 2012 at 7:38PM by R. Mansfield

Okay, so I ended up going to the movie with my friend this past Friday night to see Phantom Menace in 3D.

This was the third time I'd seen the movie, I believe, after the original showing in 1999 and then watching it on DVD a few years ago. 

No, I don't care for the movie any more now than I did before. However, I do believe I have less animosity for it this time around. Perhaps because this time I had no excitement building up for it as I did the first time; nor was I hoping that I might like it better like I did the second time around. It's amazing what lowered expectations can do for one's experience. 

On a side note, I can say that I've now come to the conclusion that 3D does nothing for a movie's story in my opinion. It's a gimmick to hike up movie prices. If given the choice in the future between a regular showing of a movie and a 3D version, I will always choose the former.

One final note: this viewing of Phantom Menace was the first one in which I was with children. Not only was the young son of the friend who invited me with us, another friend came and brought his son. Both of these boys were around six or seven years old. I noticed as I watched the movie that although I still cringed at most scenes that drew attention to Jar Jar Binks, the two boys with us loved him. They laughed at every goofy phrase that came from Jar Jar's mouth and clumsy action he made. 

As we were leaving, the boys were already quoting Jar Jar and attempting to imitate his voice. I've always heard it said that Jar Jar was the result of George Lucas attempting to provide a bit of levity to the film after having his own children. For these boys, this was the first Star Wars film they've ever seen. I don't know if it will have the same impact on them that the original movie had on me in 1977. Nevertheless, they will still be around when those of us who diss Jar Jar are gone. So maybe in the end, George Lucas will be remembered with much less hate for the prequels than he's experienced over the past decade. 

As always, time will tell. 

Finding the Right Image Using Accordance and Logos

The screencast below is a follow up to a previous post, "Balaam in the Flesh." Maximizing to fullscreen is recommended.

Your questions, thoughts, comments and rebuttals are welcome in the comments.