Elder Cathy Huey's Message:
My Dad was born and raised in Whiting,IN. His mother was a faithful Christian who was their Church's organist for years. My parents were high school sweethearts and attended IU. My Dad was in ROTC in high school to help him pay for college. After college graduation and marriage, my Dad enlisted in the Army and was stationed in Ft. Benning, GA, where I was born. When I was 6 months old, we left the states where Dad served in Germany for two years. My sister was born in Germany and my brother was born when we returned to Illinois.
My Dad and I had a unique bond. I was the jock in our family My Dad had participated in track in high school so I gravitated toward track. They didn't have organized girls sports like they do now but I was fortunate that the schools I attended allowed girls to participate in after school sports programs. I excelled in the standing long jump, they didn't have running long jump back then. In 6th grade, I was eligible to attend the Illinois State grade school track meet in the standing long jump and placed 5th. Dad was there supporting me. In high school, the boys track coach allowed girls to practice with the guys. He got a relay team together my senior year to participate in the Mayor Daley races in Chicago. Once again, Dad was there rooting me on.
In 5th and 6th grades, I had the same teacher. He was big on learning by projects. My Dad and I would work together in his workshop in the basement building projects. My favorite project centered around Gemini's space program. My Dad contacted NASA and learned where and when the astronauts would be over the US. He then made a board with lights tracking the mission. We had a TV brought into our classroom to watch the mission and track it on our board. We had a phone brought into the classroom and NASA called us. They even sent all of us a Gemini pin, which I'm wearing today. This experience was made possible because of my Dad.
My Dad called me, Cass. Every Saturday my Dad would go to the hardware store whether he needed something or not. He would say, Cass, you ready to go to the hardware store? I was the one who watched sports with my Dad. Chicago White Sox, Chicago Bulls, Chicago Bears and the Indy 500.
My Dad taught me to mow the grass, attended Father's Day at my sorority houses in Arkansas and IU, helped me earn the most money in the stock market in my high school Econ class, and picked me up from IU following graduation.
The day my Dad walked me down the aisle was special for both of us. I knew he had always been proud of me. He had always Believed in me. He inspired me to be the person I became with Faith in Believing in myself and others. I always told kids at school, I Believe in You, You just have to Believe in Yourself.
In 1980, Dad took my Mom, Bud and my sister rafting down the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon. I was supposed to go but ended up in the hospital with a knee infection. My Dad made Bud promise him that one day he would take me.
My Dad passed away in January 1989 at the age of 57. I was devastated, His last Christmas was at our house, playing with Molly and Ben, who called him Grumps. You'd have to ask Molly where she came up with that name.
After Dad passed away, we began taking camping trips. My family took many camping trips when I was growing up. My Dad had been a history major in college and I too, have always been interested in history, another influence my Dad had on me. So, every vacation we took, included a history component in honor of my Dad. Our first camping trip was to Williamsburg and Yorktown over July 4. You can't get more historical than that. In 1998, Bud and I finally were able to take that rafting trip down the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon, along with Molly and Ben. One night, I looked up into the starry night in the bottom of the Canyon and said, Thank you, Dad for always Believing in me and Bud has fulfilled his promise to you. I swear I could see him smiling down on me.
So, From my Dad to You:
Believe in God, Believe in Others and
Always Believe in Yourself.
Elder Trina Brown's Message:
When I first thought about what I might have to say about our theme today, of speaking about how our fathers influenced and inspired our faith, the memories that came to mind were the obvious ones. I spent three years of my childhood living with my family at the Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary, which was quite a mouthful for me at the time, let me tell you. My father pursued a Master of Divinity degree there, and I have many memories of watching him serve in the church in various ways.
These memories are all part of my faith journey. But as I reflected, other memories surfaced, ones that at first didn't seem to have anything to do with my faith. Then I was startled to realize that they illuminated something absolutely central to my faith.
One of those memories is a very early one. I remember my father carrying me along a board fence, telling me I was about to see a horse. Maybe the strangest thing is that I don't remember the horse at all. What I remember is the feeling of being carried, the excitement in his voice as he was about to show me something new, and my anticipation of something wonderful.
When I was about eight years old, my father left his career as a chemical engineer to attend seminary. One night at bedtime, he taught me a prayer to say aloud. Again, the funny thing is, I don’t remember the prayer. What I remember is seeing a new side of my dad. He was exploring his faith and inviting me to explore mine.
Music has been another doorway. As you can tell from the photos, my father introduced me to music when I was very young. We share music and talk about what moves us. We have listening sessions. I recently introduced him to the musical Hamilton, and in turn, he shared a deep dive into Brahms with me.
The first time I played a duet with my dad was right here in this sanctuary. When we rehearsed together for the first time, me on piano and him on violin, Dad asked me, “Do you ever improvise?” I said, “Not on purpose.” I only improvised when I made a mistake and tried to find my way back.
As I reflected on these memories this week, I realized that throughout my life, Dad has encouraged me to explore, stay curious, and ask questions. At the heart of it all is a sense of wonder. It dawned on me that wonder is central to my faith. I was astonished by that not because it was unexpected, but because it was suddenly so obvious.
My faith journey has never been about finding answers, but about asking questions, staying open to learning, exploring fresh perspectives, paying attention, and basking in those “wow!” moments.
Dad is still curious and full of wonder, and I am, too. The greatest gift he has given me is showing me that there is always more to learn and explore, more questions to ask, and more of God to discover.
