It was my first real job in the summer of 1970 that I met and made friends
outside of my neighborhood or school. You never forget your first real job, not
counting cutting yards or having a paper route, especially when you get you
first paycheck. Let's see, 40 hoursX $1.50 hour = $60.00. Only taking home $55
was my other intro to real life, as taxes were now a part of my job experience,
and would be for the next-well the rest of my life. But it was the friends made
that summer, working for the Union County Park Commission that over time would
prove more valuable than those first paychecks. From cities and towns
throughout Union County, we were from different backgrounds. I had learned I
had played basketball against Fred Allen, a tall, black kid from Plainfield,
where only 3 summer earlier the tanks filled the streets in a riot torn city.
Pete and Rich were the Wally Cleaver type guys from Westfield, richer than all
of us. We could tell by the car Pete's mom dropped them off in every morning.
I befriended my first American Indian, Fred Moore, in these pre-Native American
times, and years later at a dance when we met embraced as long time friends.
Kyle Looney, if ever a last name fit a person, just made you laugh by saying
hello, with a permanent smile, and looking like a young Bill Cosby. We had to
make him work by himself sometimes so we could get work done, he was so funny.
And Steve Pruden, who was the first hippie I met, and later when I would meet
him again would become close friends. He became an aspiring blue grass
musician, and I spent many nights at his place while he practiced, he and his
friend Pete finally opening at a college for Vasser Clemmons. There were
others, but these guys touched my life, and heart. They were my friends, with
only the iris beds of Green Brook park and the Union County Park Commission our
common bonds. I still remember the arguments over who was better, Rare Earth or
the Carpenters as we listened to old AM radio. I still enjoy both today, with a
nod going to the Carpenters. And yes Fred, no one I knew ever danced to them.
But while you were dancing, I was holding hands and....
Theresa and I have been black sheep among the Black Sheep, Harley Davidsons
for Christ for years. We hang with them, minister with them, and attend their
breakfasts. When I was down last summer, and my bike still in Durango, Ken and
Ned went up and got it for me, without being asked. I stopped by their meeting
last night to thank them, and stayed for their meeting. Where one topic was
their Downed Biker Fund. And raising money for it, and the rules set up to
dispense it. I fought the tears as the rules stated you must be in HOG or Black
Sheep, meaning you are a Harley owner. We're not. The tears came, thankfully
in the dark, as they had given me a large check when we needed it while I had
open heart surgery. And I do not qualify for it according to the rules. They
had stepped outside of the rules, saw a need and filled it. I know they were as
blessed giving as we were receiving. When joking about two Harley guys with a
Triumph in their trailer, Ned told me "we wore masks to conceal our identity."
Sorry guys, no mask will ever conceal the smiles behind them, or the love
contained in them. Friends of the highest degree, putting their words into
action-it's called love.
I wonder, how many of us share Jesus with others, and would introduce him
as our friend? Lord and savior-yes, because He is, but He also calls us His
friend. In a fallen world where each person has his own idea about God, how
many times do they just need a friend? And while we burden them with our
limited knowledge of the Bible, we fail to listen and see the need. Can we just
be a friend to them, showing them a side of Jesus they don't hear about? Think
of that next time you have a chance to show His love in action. Jesus is our
friend, but more importantly we are His. We all need more friends, and some
have none at all-be theirs, and show the love of Jesus. For while we were yet
strangers, He died for us. I was once a stranger to Him, ask Him to be your
friend today. He says he will stick closer than a brother, wow. Remember that
next time a brother offends you-Jesus won't and don't!
Over the years I have made many friends, which are ultimately only
acquaintances. So it is with a great regard I use the word friend, and get very
possessive and protective of them. I often wonder what happened to those
friends from that summer of 1970, I don't intend to lose touch with my close
friends. And I will never lose my friend Jesus-for He will never leave me, or
forsake me. Get to know Him today... If you don't know Him, let me tell you
about my best friend-who just happens to be the Son of God...I call Him Lord and
Savior, He just calls me friend.
And being a black sheep among Black Sheep will always remind me of the love
they showed us...I call them friends.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com
