Billy's Grand Adventure

Some of you may remember Billy Brown from the first story in this series. Billy was a TV repairman who lived in Shack Rag. His parents had lived there also and were buried in the Boone’s Chapel Methodist Church cemetery, along with the rest of the Shake Rag community who had gone on to their reward. Billy had one arm but could carry a full 32 inch in-cabinet TV all by himself. He was also single and had a twinkle in his eye toward my sister Judy. Perhaps that’s another story. I went to visit Billy a couple of weeks ago. The Sullivans were having a family reunion and Mama Bea originated from that clan of Irish Southerners. I decided to drive out to the Boone’s Chapel cemetery and that’s where I visited with Billy Brown. He too had gone on to his great reward some years ago. There was his marker, right next to his mama and daddy. It was a nice marker and his resting place was in the corner of the cemetery, just a few over from Mama Bea and Daddy Freeman. Seeing Billy reminded me of a trip that he once took on the Continental Trailways bus. Continental Trailways and Greyhound were the main contenders for transportation years ago. You could travel north and south on the Illinois Central Railroad and some of the brave souls could fly. The bus, however, went in all directions. I suspect there were few Shake Rag citizens who rode the train and even fewer flew, except for those who went to war in Europe and that conflict that flared up in Korea. So Billy wanted to take a trip on the bus. Trailways was offering a special at the time whereby an individual could buy a thirty day ticket and you could travel anywhere in the continental United States during that thirty days. It didn’t matter how many times you got off and on. You just had to be sure and time it so that you were home before the thirty days ran out. Billy figured this would be a good and cheap way to see the country so he began planning. Billy was a smart man. He didn’t want to be bothered by luggage so he packed a few clothes and necessities in boxes and shipped them ahead of him so that they would be waiting at the bus terminal when he arrived. Billy left on his grand adventure. He kept an extra pair of unmentionables and socks with him and if required, he would wash them in the sink at the terminal. He also carried all his meals with him. Now don’t think he had his mama’s china and candelabra with him. Nor did it include the fine spread that was available at Mama Bea’s table any Sunday. Billy feasted upon such Southern delicacies as sardines, potted meat, Vienna (pronounced Vy-enna) sausages, crackers and Nabs. If you don’t know, Nabs were those peanut butter and crackers packages that you usually acquired from a vending machine. I assume the name, which was common mostly in the South, was a derivation of the name “Nabisco”, the maker and originator of such fine dining experiences. One can only imagine the aroma that wafted through the coach following the sound of tin being pulled back on those sardines. When Billy arrived at a terminal, he would get his box of clothes and supplies. His dirty clothes and whatnot would be shipped back home and he would be off to his next destination. Billy got off the bus at every destination. He would look around, the terminal that is, and get back on the bus with the satisfaction that he had visited that city. As far as I know, Billy never made it out of the terminals. When he arrived back in Shake Rag, Billy had seen the country, at least what views bus terminals had to offer. That wasn’t the only trip that Billy planned for. As I said at the outset, Billy Brown was buried next to his mama and daddy at Boone’s Chapel. He bought, paid for and had his headstone placed well in advance of his demise. On occasion, Billy would go up to the cemetery to pay his respects. While he was there, he would lie down, fully stretched out, in front of his headstone. He would say, “I just want to make sure I fit.” I suppose that is important to a man whose width and height were of equal dimensions. Needless to say, Billy Brown fit when the time came for him to board that final bus. Something tells me upon arrival to his destination that he wasn’t satisfied with just visiting the terminal. I suspect that Saint Peter’s greeting was enough enticement for him to venture on and see what grand adventure lay ahead. We would all do well to take Billy’s example of planning to heart. Christ said, “Who plans to build a tower without first counting the costs?” We need to examine our lives, measure them, and then set out to build a life that is pleasing to our Lord. We should seek to be examples to others. We should desire to be good disciples in service to our Lord and His people. Plan ahead. Also, plan to see more of the life of faith than just the terminals that you may pass through along the way. There is much more to our faith journey than what we learned as children and youth. Begin the grand adventure that we call prayer. Explore ways of praying that are old but new to you. Look beyond the terminal walls and see the world in which you live as a place that is in need of God’s saving, healing grace. Find new avenues through the regular study of Scripture and by listening to the lives of the saints who have written volumes on finding your way along the journey. If you will do these things and a few others, you may just find your own grand adventure, with or without the Continental Trailways bus.