Brother Jack

Brother Jack was a deacon at my first church.  He was a good deacon and a jewel of a man.  

Now understand, Brother Jack wasn't a talker.  He stood about 6'2" or so, almost always smiling from ear to ear, but hardly ever said a word.  When he did talk his voice would crack from lack of use.

Here's the deal though, Brother Jack was a friend when a friend was in need. Why, I reckon I could call on him today to come help me in a jam, if that jam consisted of something needing fixing, and he would come running.  

Of course, sister Gloria would most likely be with him.  That's ok though.  Her and I could probably find something to cry or laugh about while we watched Jack fix whatever it was he was fixing.

This one particular time, my central ac wasn't working right.  It wasn't kicking on when it should.  

My father-in-law (a whole other blog) had looked at it.  He said the relay switch wasn't working. He took me out and showed me how to trigger it with a rubber handled screw driver and told me Brother Jack would know what to do to fix it.

Well, I took Jack over after church one Sunday morning to show him what needed fixed.  I didn't have a screwdriver though, so I took out a car key that had a plastic grip and triggered it with that.

Of course as soon as the relay made connection, I received the shock of my life.  Everything turned white and I was knocked back about three feet sprawled flat on the ground.

As soon as I had my wits about me again (as if they existed before), I looked up at Brother Jack and said, "Brother, if you were ever going to hear a preacher cuss, that would have been the time."  Brother Jack looked down at me grinning from ear to ear and said, "That was stupid."

Brother Jack may not have had much to say. What he did say though was pack full of wisdom.