His name was Larry, specifically Larry Dale. I never heard anyone just call him Larry; it was always LarryDale — run together in that classic Southern way. It took me a while to realize that was his first and last name.
By the time I met Larry, he was a vice president at a regional bank on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. One day, he called me into his office for a “talk.” I wasn’t in any trouble; in fact, that talk turned out to be a significantblessing. Larry and his fellow church leaders wanted me to pursue a master’s degree—completely paid for by them. And I accepted. My only cost was the time and effort required to finish the program. I will always be grateful for his leadership and encouragement.
Larry was southern through and through, a product of Tennessee and the Air Force officer corps. He was a good man and good to me. He had his faults, to be sure—don’t we all?
But one criticism—if it could be called a fault—often amused me. Larry did not—and that’s putting it mildly—have anything positive to say about Louisiana drivers in general, especially those from New Orleans. Since we lived in Gulfport, only a forty-five-minute drive to the Mississippi-Louisiana border, he had plenty of chances to reinforce his opinions. I can still see him shake his head and mutter under his breath.
Larry’s last few years were tough. He and his wife, Opal, lost nearly everything in Hurricane Katrina. Their house still stood but was so flooded that it was completely unlivable. It needed to be gutted inside and out. Larry’s truck was also wrecked by the rising floodwaters. They only had the car they evacuated in and the clothes they took with them.
As we often said, in the end, Katrina was no lady. She took whatever she wanted, without regard.
Larry and his wife moved into a rental house next door to us, and it was a blessing to have them nearby. They fought a long, difficult battle to restore their home. It was a joy to see them back where they belonged.
Why am I telling you about Larry Dale? One word: grace. Despite his impatience with Louisiana drivers, Larry was a man full of grace. He showed grace to me, his employees, and surprisingly, to the chaotic world we lived in after Katrina. Believe me, aside from losing my first wife and son, it was the hardest time I hope never to go through again.
But Larry? After Katrina, he had every right to feel angry, frustrated, and worried—and maybe he did in private. But to those of us watching and observing, Larry was a pillar of strength, kindness, grace, and love.
In a world full of chaos and trouble, be like Larry. Your family and friends will be grateful.
“Love is patient, love is kind. Love does not envy, is not boastful, is not arrogant, is not rude, is not self-seeking, is not irritable, and does not keep a record of wrongs. Love finds no joy in unrighteousness but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” (1 Corinthians 13:4-7 CSB)
Les Ferguson, Jr. is a minister and faith-based author. He can be reached at lfergusonjr@gmail.com
