Truth Magazine

By Kerri Leverette

Many times when people write about their memories of someone it is after that person has passed, away. While I am thankful for the opportunity to recall the past, I do hope to make many more memories with Granddaddy. H.E. Phillips has eleven grandchildren and, at this writing, ten great grandchildren. The grandchildren range in age from thirty-three to four years old and I am the second oldest grandchild.

I would have to say my most favorite times were when my sisters and I spent the weekend with Granddaddy and Grandmother. It was the same routine on those Saturday nights. Granddaddy always made the popcorn and we stood on chairs all around him anxiously waiting for the first kernels to pop. After our popcorn and coke it was time to get Granddaddy “fixed up” for church the next morning. With him stretched out in his recliner with his pajamas on, we would go to work. We soaked and massaged his feet, trimmed his fingernails, and combed his hair. Back and forth we would go to the medicine cabinet for lotions, powders, aftershave, and creams. It happened every time; Granddaddy would fall asleep and as is the case with most small children, we would sometimes get carried away. I will never forget the time he woke up and leaped from his chair, his face burning, only to realize my youngest sister had rubbed athlete’s foot powder all over his face. Still, he continued to let us fix him up, although he did take away our electric razor privileges for awhile (but that was only after I had shaved off one sideburn and half of an eyebrow). He has had Vaseline in his hair and Mentholatum all over his feet. Never once through all the little accidents did he become angry with us, but he did fight falling asleep for fear of what would happen to him next.

I could hardly wait to be old enough to help with the paper, Searching the Scriptures. The first job was to take lunch and sometimes supper back to Granddaddy’s office and run small errands around the house. Then when I was old enough to read, I could help count, stack or sort. The house was always busy with people and papers were everywhere, and sometimes as late as one or two o’clock in the morning the paper would be finished, bagged and ready to go to the post office. Patiently Granddaddy would answer all my questions on the way to the post office. Why did he write a paper? Why was his picture on the front? Where did he get the name, Searching the Scriptures? Wouldn’t it be easier if he just bought a paper from the store?

Granddaddy’s office was like a sacred place to us. We were never allowed to play in there. In fact, we didn’t even go in there unless Granddaddy was in there. It was where you went for help in answering a Bible question or for encouragement when the boy you liked asked your sister out instead. It was also where you went when you were in trouble and often I sat there across the desk from Granddaddy while he talked to me about my behavior. It has always been very easy to talk to Granddaddy. In every discussion, whether it be right at the start or, perhaps, when your talk was finished, he always said, “I love you” and told us how much we meant to him.

Summer vacations usually found us heading to Kentucky to see our great-grandmother. On our drive up, Granddaddy would tell us stories about her and the good Christian influence she had been on his life. They would sit for hours on the porch swing. After dinner we would gather in the living room where Granddaddy would talk of his childhood. On occasion, Grandma Phillips, as we called her, would slip in a story or two of some of granddaddy’s mischievous times as a boy. Since her death, he has talked often from the pulpit about how much she encouraged him to be a gospel preacher.

I guess my biggest disappointment is that my husband and our children do not live as close to Granddaddy as I did growing up. We only get to be together about two or three times a year, so my children sit and listen to me tell stories of my times with Granddaddy.

As I prepared for this article, and my sisters and I talked about our different memories, one thing that kept coming up was that Granddaddy has always been the same. What I mean is that he was not a Sunday gospel preacher and then a different person at home during the week. Whatever the people from church saw and heard from Granddaddy was what we saw and heard during the week. As the years pass, I realize that the day will come when Granddaddy will die, but as long as I remember the lessons he has taught me and that I now teach to my children, he will really be with us for a long time. For all the kind words and fond remembrances, I know the greatest I can do is to live a faithful Christian life and to be the example for others that Granddaddy has been for me.

Guardian of Truth XXXIII: 17, p. 534
September 7, 1989

By Daniel H. King

May 30th is observed here in the United States as a legal holiday commemorating our service men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice for their country. We must not forget that the freedom from tyranny and individual pursuit of life, liberty and happiness here in this wonderful land have come to us through the sacrifices of others. Memorial Day is a time set aside in our yearly calendar of events for reflection upon the greatest gift that another could ever give – his life.

Lest we forget them, we pause from our daily chores to think about who they were and what they did. Then we go back to being who we are and doing what we do. But because they have a memorial day and we have paused long enough to remember them, they can never be as those whom the wise man of old described in his sagely but depressing remarks: “And some there be, which have no memorial; who are perished, as though they had never been; and are become as though they had never been born” (Ecclesiastics 44:7-9). As a grateful people ought, we thank God for them and their selfless love.

God has ever recognized man’s need for such reminders. Religious praxis is replete with examples. The Hebrew nation remembered yearly the deliverance of Israel from Egyptian slavery at the commemoration of Passover. The Feast of Tabernacles was a symbolic recollection of the days of tent-dwelling, before Israel was given a land of her own. Every week the Israelites celebrated God’s work of creation on the Sabbath, resting as he did on the seventh day.

Christians have such a day. We call it Sunday, but they referred to it unpretentiously as “the first day of the week” (Lk. 24:1; Acts 20:7). It crowns each and every week, similarly keeping pious believers in memory of the most marvelous sacrifice ever made for mortal man. And, in spite of what some think, it is not a time merely for rest or relaxation, that is to say, for fishing, golfing and recreation . It is a time for memorializing and remembering.

On the night of his betrayal, Jesus took the bread and fruit of the vine and blessed them and gave them to his disciples. “This do in remembrance of me,” he said. The early Christians did just that. They partook of these simple emblems of Christ’s death and so remembered him every week. Paul waited seven days at Troas to sit down at the table of the Lord with fellow believers (Acts 20:6-7). When the day came, he was there with them in communion with Christ. Faithful followers of Christ do the same today.

They may make this day one for visiting with friends and relatives, or even for recreating, but only after they have first paused to reflect and remember the Lord’s death in his memorial Supper. “This cup is the new covenant in my blood: this do, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me. For as often as you eat this bread, and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death till he come” (1 Cor. 11:25-26)

Guardian of Truth XXXIII: 18, p. 548
September 21, 1989

By Weldon E. Warnock

As we devote this issue of Guardian of Truth in honor of H.E. Phillips, it is my assignment to reflect upon the light side of the life of brother Phillips and to share a few of the humorous incidents in his long and illustrious career. It has been my pleasure to have known brother Phillips and his good wife Polly and family for several years, and to have been in his home and in gospel meetings together on many occasions.

Let-Down at Cottonwood

The first time Elwood preached away from his home congregation was at Cottonwood, Tennessee in the early 1940s. He was told the congregation was small, somewhere between 15 to 20 people. He took two young men with him to help out in the services, such as directing the singing and leading prayer. When Elwood and the young men arrived, the house was full of people. He preached with all vim and vigor that he could muster up, feeling good that such a large crowd had come out to hear him. But his euphoria was short-lived as the people informed him when the service was over that they had confused him with another Phillips – that they thought H.M. Phillips was preaching, an old, seasoned preacher who taught at David Lipscomb College. Anyway, one elderly sister, wearing an apron, must have been impressed as he came by and laid a one-dollar bill in Elwood’s hand.

The Tennessee Rooster

During a gospel meeting between Chattanooga and Nashville, Tennessee Elwood encountered a preacher-hating rooster (perhaps the old rooster had seen several of his brothers sacrificed to the ministry). The farmer with whom Elwood was staying, told Elwood to watch the rooster as he loved to flog people, especially preachers. After a few days of self-imposed exile, Elwood asked the farmer if he could kill the old rooster, because if a rooster ever needed killin’, that one did. The farmer consented, except he did not want Elwood to use a gun. So, armed with a tobacco stick and a pocketful of walnuts, he cornered the fighting rooster in the hen house face to face.

When he got the rooster lined up just where he wanted him, he swung with all his might to decapitate the preacherhating rooster’s head. But lucky for the rooster, Elwood missed, except the comb. He peeled the comb off down to the scalp, and the rooster, taking evasive action, darted out of the hen house and took refuge under the farmer’s house. For the rest of the meeting the old rooster had a phobia toward Elwood, avoiding him like he had the plague. Elwood told the farmer that God made man to have dominion over the fish of the sea and the fowl of the air and that he had proved this in his conquering the rooster.

What About Herman?

Some transients, traveling on foot, came to the door while Elwood and Polly were located in Gainesville, Florida. As the story generally goes, they had run into some bad luck and needed something to eat and a place to stay for the night. Elwood agreed to take them to a nearby motel for the night and also buy them something to eat. As they got ready to leave, Elwood noticed a large, mixed-breed dog tied to a bush. He asked, “Whose dog is that, tied to a bush?” The transients replied, “Oh, this is Herman. He belongs to us. We need a place for him, too.” “Well,” Elwood retorted, “Herman isn’t going to ride in my car. I’ll tie him to the back bumper and let him follow along to the motel.”

So, down through Gainesville Elwood and the beggars go with Herman trailing along behind at about 10 miles per hour. A room was reserved for the transients and the basement was allotted to Herman. After Elwood got the beggars something to eat, they brazenly asked, “What about Herman? He is hungry, too.” Elwood replied, with patience exhausted, “Herman will just have to get by on his own!”

Cold Chili

After a Sunday evening service at the Fletcher Avenue church in Tampa, Florida, Elwood, Polly, some of the immediate family and two or three families from the congregation went to Steak & Shake to eat. Elwood had a craving for some chili, so he ordered a bowl of chili, along with a side order. When the waitress brought the chili, to Elwood’s disappointment, it was cold. Nevertheless, he ate it, but complaining every other spoonful about the cold chili.

When all of them lined up at the cash register to pay the bill, the manager was taking the checks and money for the meals. Elwood was in the front of the line while one of his sons-in-law was toward the back. The manager asked Elwood how his meal was and he thought this would be an opportune time to tell him about the cold chili. The manager apologized and told Elwood the meal was on Steak & Shake. About that time, a voice bellowed out from back in the line from the son-in-law, saying, “Pulling that old cold chili trick again, are you?” The manager looked puzzled and Elwood just looked. After some explaining that it was a joke, the manager seemed satisfied. I think I would have hung a son-in-law from the nearest tree.

Bed Too Narrow

Polly has traveled with Elwood over the years in gospel meetings. However, there was one meeting in particular that she, perhaps, should have stayed home. They were staying with a family who didn’t act like they were expecting Polly to come. They put them in a bedroom that had only a three-quarter bed. Bedtime for the host was much earlier than what Elwood and Polly were accustomed to, like three hours earlier. They sat there in the bedroom for quite sometime, talking, reading and wondering how to sleep in that bed.

Finally, Polly said she would sleep next to the wall and Elwood would take the outside. This worked for a few minutes until Elwood fell out into the floor. Elwood had to preach the next morning, it was agreed that he would take the inside, next to the wall, in order to try to get some sleep and Polly would venture through the night on the outside. As you can image it was a long meeting and each night a challenge just to say in bed.

The Little Rascal

Several years ago during a meeting in the panhandle of Florida, a little boy began using the meeting house for a playground while Elwood was preaching. He would close and open the front door, and then run up and down the aisle, whooping like an Indian, as well as a few other juvenile antics. After he did all of this for awhile, he came down to the front to the table on which was the Lord’s Supper, and began looking under the cloth that covered the bread and fruit of the vine. holders.

Elwood decided it was time to take action. He said to the little urchin, “Little boy, would you like me to find your parents?” When he said this, a big, robust man got up out of his seat and headed for the front (if I had been Elwood, I might have ducked for cover). But the man was not coming for Elwood, but for his “little rascal.” He took him back to the pew, placed him firmly down, where the little fellow stayed as though glued to the seat. Some thought the people might not come back, but they did, every night, and the little boy gave that “mean” preacher “the eye” after each service when he went out of the door with his daddy.

A Stray Golf Ball

Everybody has a hobby. One of Elwood’s hobbies is golf. Four of us were playing a round at the Babe especially at Zaharias Golf Course in Tampa. We were on the at the ninth hole when we spotted an old man coming toward us on the left side of the fairway far out in the rough, walking his dog. Both of them were just wobbling along, coming in our direction. Jokingly, I said to Elwood, “See if you can hit that old man coming toward us way off over there in the rough.”

Elwood took a practice swing or two, and then hit the ball that left the tee like a bullet. Instead of going down the middle of the fairway where he intended, it headed straight for the old man and his dog as if it had been aimed with accurate precision. We hollered “fore” and the elderly gentleman fell to his keens as the ball sailed just a few feet over his head. Elwood ran a few steps toward the old man, pointed to men, and facetiously said, “He made me do it.” Well, nobody got hurt, thankfully – just a little embarrassed. On the back nine, we saw another old gentleman taking cover behind a tree when Elwood was teeing off. We surmised that word got around about the wild golfer out on the course.

The Ugly Woman

While preaching for the church at Clearwater, Florida, Elwood decided to enroll in a course at the University of Tampa. He was in his late 20s or early 30s at the time as the story is told. The city of Tampa had just installed parking meters and on this particular day when Elwood drove up to campus area, he had no change for the meter.

Seeing the only place far or near where he might get some change was this “greasy-spoon” looking joint that when under the guise of a restaurant, Elwood decided he would venture in, get his change for the meter, and hurry out. He had to go down three or four steps to the entrance, and while he was waiting at the cash register for service, he glanced over to a booth wherein was seated one of the ugliest women he had ever seen. She was as skinny as a rail, gray-headed, wearing a short dress and smoking a cigarette in one of those long holders.

The woman, after giving Elwood the eye and a beautiful (?) Smile said in the Mae West style, “What you say, BIG boy?” Well, Elwood didn’t say anything, only wondering what kind of place he had “stumbled” into. He whirled around, without his change, hurried out the front door, up the steps, and headed for class, taking his changes that the could park for an hour or so without being given a ticket. He would have rather faced a policeman, including a fine, than the ugly woman.

Conclusion

These are just some of the many humorous episodes in the life of brother Phillips. We trust you have enjoyed them. Someone said, “To be able to laugh, especially at one’s self, is a necessary attribute. Blessed is the ma who does not take himself seriously.”

Guardian of Truth XXXIII: 17, pp. 532-533
September 7, 1989

By Elaine Phillips Flatt

I am grateful that I have been given the opportunity to write about H.E. Phillips, who is my Daddy. I wish to express my appreciation to brother Mike Willis for this issue of Guardian of Truth which is devoted to pay tribute to H.E. Phillips. I did not inherit any of Daddy’s ability to write but I will try to express my heart in this article and hopefully those who read it will see H.E. Phillips through the eyes of a daughter.

I want to say from the beginning that my two sisters, Carolyn King of Shelbyville, Tennessee, and Juanita Dennis, of Tampa, Florida share the same love and respect for Daddy as I do, so I write this tribute on their behalf.

How does one start to talk about another who has had so much influence on her life? The first thoughts of Daddy that come to my mind was when I was about five years old. Daddy always had his office in our house and he spent most of his time in his office studying and writing. At that age I knew that Daddy’s office was important because his books were special to him and that is where he would go every morning all dressed up in his shirt and tie (which he still does to this day). He would let me play around him and pull up a chair to sit by him at his desk. I would watch him open his mail or read a book and I would pretend to be his helper. I felt important to him and this started a relationship with a Father who still shows love and care.

Growing up in our home was quite different from most. Our house has been described as Grand Central Station by some. Over the years we have had a lot of people in our home and even some who lived with us for awhile. As I think back, I believe the reason we always had so many in our home is the simple fact that Daddy and Mother love people. Other than just having company over, we usually had the preacher in our home when there was a gospel meeting at the congregation and that was fun to me, even if I had to give up my bedroom for a week. I was fortunate to grow up in a preacher’s home because I was exposed to many good people. Around our dinner table many funny stories were exchanged and important Bible matters discussed with family and friends.

When I was about nine years old, Daddy took me to a couple of meetings in the Alabama and Tennessee area. It was when theinstitutional issues were beginning to divide some churches and Daddy was asked to preach on these subjects. I can remember feeling special to be taking my Mother’s place and taking care of “the preacher.” By the time that I got back home I had heard so much about widows and orphan homes, church supported schools, etc., that I probably could have preached two or three good sermons on the institutional issues. These are just a few of the things I remember about Daddy when I was young.

When I started dating, Daddy had some rules that seemed to be rather strict such as: he had to know who you were going with, where you were going, and when you were to be home. The curfew was usually 11:00 p.m. and you dare not be a minute late because, if you were, he would be waiting for you and your date. I can remember my oldest brother-in-law Hugh say that, when he married my sister Carolyn, they were going to stay out all night long but I don’t think they ever did. As I look back now, I am glad that Daddy did have rules for us in dating. Those rules don’t seem so rigid now that I have a teenage son and two little girls who will be dating before I know it.

Along with the happy times, there have been some sad times related to Daddy’s work as a preacher. We have watched him agonize over those who left the Lord or those whom he could not convert. Anyone that knows Daddy knows that he is not afraid or ashamed to stand up for what he believes the Bible teaches, no matter who opposes him and he has been persecuted many times for taking a stand on a certain issue. During the past few years he has written on topics such as the eldership, divorce and remarriage, fellowship and grace, social gospel and even institutional questions that have developed in the church, and he has lost friends in the process. He felt that teaching God’s word on these subjects was more important than friendships. The Word of God was read and studied in our home and we were taught the importance of God in the everyday decisions that we made. We did not grow up with any material wealth; in fact, Mother and Daddy had some hard times financially that I was not even aware of until I was grown, but we were happy and always had enough to supply our needs. Being the child of a preacher is not always easy because most of what you do is examined by others. I was made aware of my influence on others and the necessity of having and maintaining a good reputation.

There are some characteristics about Daddy that stand out in my mind. He is a strong believer in parents using discipline in bringing up their children. He has always said that teaching a child to be obedient is the most important thing you can teach them. And I am one of three daughters who can testify that he practiced what he preached on the matter of discipline. I always knew that I was in trouble when those black eyes focused on me and I was called to go with him to his office, which was usually the place that he talked to us. I would get a lump in my throat as I walked behind him just wondering if this would be the time he would spank me or strongly rebuke me. Of course, I always wished for the latter. But even though we received our share of spankings from Mother and Daddy, we knew the punishment was deserved and would be just. It was not done out of anger but out of a desire to make us what we should be.

My pride was shattered at the age of sixteen when I received a spanking from Daddy because I did not obey a note that he had left for me at home. I wasn’t trying to be rebellious but I failed to take his note too seriously. Believe me, when you are sixteen years old, you feel that you are too old to get such punishment but that incident vividly brought to mind the importance of obeying Daddy. I remember it to this day and tell the story to my children . The same attitude toward obedience was stressed in our relationship to God.

Another strong characteristic that belongs to Daddy is his faith in God and his love for the souls of men. He has never hidden his desire to go to Heaven and has so stated publicly and privately on many occasions. He has given much time and attention to others in talking to them about private matters. There have been endless hours spent over the years in helping couples with marriage problems or parents who were having problems with their children or maybe just taking the time to encourage someone who was troubled. I have never heard Daddy complain about helping anyone along this line. I have to say that he did not neglect his own family because of spending time with others and I am thankful to him for that. He has touched many lives and it is no wonder that he is loved and respected by so many. He has been a Father to many and his sons-in-law will say that he is their Daddy as well as ours for they love him dearly. He has had and continues to have such an influence on young men who desire to become preachers. This love that Daddy has starts at home with his wife, children and grandchildren; we all have been blessed to have him as an example. Children owe so much to their parents who have taught them the Word of God and set the proper example before them. Being a mother myself, I realize more than ever the importance of a good example.

It would be impossible for me to write anything about Daddy without saying something about Mother. They have been one flesh for 54 years and Daddy would be the first to tell you that, whatever success he has had in preaching the gospel or being a husband and father, was because of the love and support of his wife Polly. He has always displayed a love for her the way the Bible teaches. Mother has been so giving of herself to Daddy and his work. She has undertaken the role of being a preacher’s wife with much love and hard work and many have been the recipient of her kindness and hospitality. Carolyn, Juanita and I have always felt so thankful to have a Mother who took the time to teach us about life and about being a good wife and mother. She has also showered our children with the same love and words of wisdom that she gave to us. The words “Bo Bo” and “Grandmother” are sweet sounds to her ears. “Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.”

Daddy has lived beyond the three score and ten years in this life and the signs of age have shown in his health, Sometimes, because of his health, he worries that he can not do what he once did and he feels that maybe he is not useful anymore. I am thankful for younger men, who are gospel preachers, that realize the importance and need for an old soldier – one who has fought the battles and is there to give encouragement and strength to those who need it. My Daddy is such a soldier, and those across the country who call upon his knowledge of the Bible and seek his wisdom in dealing with problems make him know that he is useful and needed. We realize the void in our lives and in the church when men such as this depart this life.

Daddy, in closing this tribute to you, I would like to say on behalf of Carolyn, Juanita and myself, that we thank you for your faith, your life, your prayers in our behalf and your constant love for us. Maybe the best tribute that we could give you is to live righteously and godly in this present world so Heaven would be ours in the world to come. I pray, if the good Lord wills, that you may live and continue to do good for us and others in the years ahead. We love you.

Guardian of Truth XXXIII: 17, pp. 523-524
September 7, 1989