Living With a Broken Heart: Chapter 1: A Hero Falls (Part 2)
Paul O'Rear -- Tuesday, May 29, 2007, 7:30 AM (No Comments)Categories: Living With a Broken Heart, My Dad
Dad was my mentor. As a boy becomes a man, there is a lot of “stuff” about life that he needs to learn from his Dad. I was only 27 years old when Dad died, married with two babies, and still pretty green in terms of life experiences. We had just moved to a new town, I had just started a new job, and I had my whole life ahead of me. Now suddenly my teacher was gone, and there was a lot of learning that still needed to take place. “Who do I turn to now?” In answer to that question I heard only silence. In my heart there was an uneasy emptiness that I had never before known.
Dad was my friend. I’m sure I didn’t grasp the importance of that reality while I was growing up. Back then I probably thought of him as just an old fuddy-dud, someone who couldn’t possibly understand the complexities of my teenage life. But looking back on those “growing up” days, I realize what an incredible blessing it had been to be Larry O’Rear’s son. He was an amazing man.
When I was a boy, our family went camping every summer in the Texas Hill Country for as long as I can remember. It was quite an ordeal preparing all the necessities for a family of six (and later seven after my youngest brother Clint arrived on the scene) to camp out for two weeks, two hundred miles from home! But Dad was unquestionably the “Master Camper” and had everything under control. He had built special boxes for storing our camp food and all the cooking and eating utensils. He had constructed storage boxes to go inside our pop-up Apache Eagle tent trailer. He had taught us boys the fine art of setting up the trailer, and I remember quite vividly how special it made me feel when it was my turn to help Dad set up the trailer upon arrival at River Bend Campground. Dad was a master camp chef (or maybe he just got in Mom’s way, I’m not sure), a master campfire builder, a master bird identifier and bird caller … and without question he was the quintessential “people person”. As soon as the campsite was adequately prepared, Dad would always set out to walk the campground and meet and greet our camping neighbors.
You can probably tell that I have very fond memories of those camping days, and Dad was one of the necessary ingredients for making those experiences so fun and those memories so special.
Dad is my hero. I did not realize until after his death what an incredible impact he had made in the lives of so many people. He had taught high school math and science courses for 24 years in the small South Texas town of Alice. Teaching was never a very well-paying job, especially when there were five hungry mouths at home that needed to be fed. But then, I don’t think Dad ever really looked at teaching as a “job” anyway. It was more of a mission, a ministry, a calling, a purpose for his life. He was there to teach much more than scientific formulas and mathematical equations. He was there to make a difference in the lives of the young, impressionable students who were assigned to his classes each year. Quite simply, he was there to love. Sure, he was one of the best high school teachers who ever lived. He knew his stuff. He read and studied voraciously to keep himself informed of all the latest developments in the fields of math and science. But even more important than his vast knowledge, was his huge heart. He truly cared about his students, and they knew it.
At Dad’s funeral, I was especially touched by the presence of one family in particular. As we were visiting with people after the funeral, a young Hispanic couple with several children, the youngest still in diapers, came up and introduced themselves. The husband and father of the family told us that “Mr. O’Rear” had been one of his teachers many years ago at Alice High School, and had been a very positive influence in his life. When he heard that Mr. O’Rear had died, he loaded up his family and drove more than four hours (one way) on a Saturday during the Christmas holidays, to pay his final respects to his former teacher and friend. Dad had made a very real difference in this man’s life.
The following tribute was written by Max Hughes, a college buddy of Dad’s. Max and Dad remained close friends through the years, and both found themselves living in Georgetown, Texas, and worshiping at the Georgetown Church of Christ during Dad’s final few years. Max read this tribute at Dad’s funeral on December 30, 1989.
My friendship with Larry O’Rear spans almost 4 decades. When I first met him, a person my size could not help but be impressed with his size. He was a big man! But it took only a short time to become aware that he was not only big in physical stature, he was big by far more important standards of measure. His heart was big, and his emotions tender.
He was intellectually endowed beyond most of us, but always in touch with the real world struggles of life, and all felt at ease in conversation with him. He could seal himself in the depth of his studies, or become compassionately involved in the lives of others. He was strong in conviction, yet open to discussion. His interests and knowledge spanned a wide range. His love for people knew no boundaries of society, race or belief.
Wednesday afternoon, December 27, 1989, was a day Larry O’Rear was ready for. He was already serious about being ready when I met him in 1950. His dedication to God was the dominant force in his life. Many things were important to Larry, but none as important as the cause of Christ, the spiritual and temporal needs of people, the Lord’s church, and his own Christian family. The rest of life was built around that nucleus. However, his serious side was balanced by a zest for daily life that was punctuated with laughter.
On the other hand, Wednesday afternoon, December 27, 1989, was a day Larry was not ready for. He had a full schedule of living ahead of him. He did not consider that he had finished his task. He had a wife, sons, daughters-in-law, and grandchildren who needed him; needed his love, service, counsel and influence. There was a business that needed him. There is a whole congregation of us who needed his teaching, wisdom, and shepherding. There were countless things to which he longed to give his attention. But, when it became obvious that death was rapidly approaching, he accepted that with dignity, and with unwavering faith that the Lord whom he served would welcome him Home. He has gone to that “city whose builder and maker is God,” and he is not among strangers! He has sustained a close relationship with the Father, Son and Holy Spirit through the years.
As I review my friendship with Larry, he is one of the few people about whom I think of absolutely nothing negative. I can hear him laugh and comment that I must not have known him well enough. I’m sure he wasn’t perfect, but he stands high among those who have influenced my life. Of him, I can use the Apostle Paul’s statement in Philippians 1:3, “I thank my God every time I remember you.”
The cards and letters we received from all over the country following Dad’s death were far too numerous to count. People from all walks of life felt compelled to write and let us know how Dad had impacted their lives.
One lady worked at a large computer manufacturing company in Austin. Mom and Dad had moved to the Austin area a few years earlier when one of Dad’s former high school students offered Dad a job as Vice President of his computer cable manufacturing company. One of Dad’s responsibilities was to call on the company’s existing clients. This lady, if I remember correctly, was the receptionist at a computer company that Dad called on regularly. In her letter, she said that Dad always took the time to ask how she and her family were doing, and particularly how her teenage son was doing in school. If things weren’t going well, he would sometimes offer counsel and advice, but mostly he would just listen with sincere interest. He had become a dear and trusted friend simply because he cared, and she was going to miss him terribly. That wasn’t part of Dad’s job, it was just part of who he was. People were important, and he made it a priority to let them know they were important.
Dad is my hero because he made a real, positive difference in so many people’s lives. I want to be like that. If I can accomplish in my lifetime even a fraction of what Dad accomplished in his lifetime in terms of loving people, then I will consider my life to have been lived successfully. Thank you, Dad, for showing me what is really important.
Mentor. Friend. Advisor. Hero. When someone of that magnitude is taken away, it leaves an empty place that cannot be filled. It causes a heart to be broken. His absence hurts so much because his presence brought so much joy.
