#10Enjoy your eternal rewards, Dr. Malony! —
David Reed2020-09-12 19:47
I met H. Newton Malony and Suzanna the first time while they were living in their Sierra Madre home, up the long hill. I was a USC Trojan swim teammate and roommate of Mike's. One day, he invited me to his house.
I had never met a 22 pound cat before.
I had also never met a real live pastor or "doctor" before, and so I was slightly intimidated. No surprise to anyone who knew Newt, with a twinkle in his eye and a gentle manner, he quickly dismissed my fears, and that day I came to know an incredibly Godly, wise, authentic and fierce yet caring human being.
Mike - you are your father's son, and I am incredibly blessed that you are my friend. Rest in peace, Dr. Malony! You are missed.
As a cautious, evangelical student back in the early 70's Newt represented a courageous, if not forceful, example of how to speak truth in love. I had a half-time internship with Newt in the early days of the Church Consultation Services at Fuller's Grad School of Psychology and deeply admired his ability to bring the best of consultation and science into the church. I deeply admired him and was helped in my grief to here memories shared by his family during today's memorial service. Thank you, Peter Everts
#8My Father, My Dad —
Allen D. Malony2020-09-12 16:11
My father is one of the most true human beings I have ever known. He was born in 1931, the apple of his father's eye. When his father died suddenly at the age of 6, his mother told him that God would send his guardian angel to take care of them. She adored my father, raised him to do his best, provided him a religious upbringing that helped him to overcome his father's passing, and tried her best to keep him out of mischief, which he got into a lot it seems at Birmingham Southern College. It was there that my father met and fell in love with a woman who would treasure him and bring him happiness for the rest of his life. Together they raised 3 sons who they cherished. He was Grandpa Newt to our sons and daughters and Great Grandpa Newt to their sons and daughters. He loved his family completely, unconditionally, and with all his heart.
My father was a compassionate person and cared deeply about others. When he was a young man, he struggled with the meaning of life and his purpose in it. During the last year I was with my father, he told me on several occassions about when he was at Yale Divinity and a fellow classmate took his life. It shook my father to the core and he seriously contemplated suicide, even planned it. He said there were three things that saved him. The first was Paul Tillich and his famous book "The Courage to Be." Tillich defines courage as the self-affirmation of one's being in spite of a threat of non-being. I pains me to know that my father was frightened and uncertain at this time in his life, but I am thankful that Tillich's philosophy took hold. My father was still reading this book up until he passed away, contemplating on passages that I am sure he had read hundreds of times before. Interestingly, his personal affirmation of "Have Courage to Be" is something the guided my father through his life. He carved this in a piece of wood one day at a cabin he and my mother had in the San Gabriel mountains and it is among his personal items that I will hold on to. The second thing my father said saved him was my mother, the love of his life. She would not let him lose sight of the great man he was destined to be. The third thing was his love of God and the strong pull of religion as an important path for his life's work that discovered in his youth. It was clear to me when listening to my father tell this story and seeing the tears roll down his cheeks how powerful that experience was to defining who he was to become.
My father was an academic, a scholar, and an intellectual. Simply put, he was a thinker. Given his prolific achievements, he must have been thinking all the time! He had a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology and was a Professor of Psychology in the Graduate School of Psychology at Fuller Theological Seminary, where he was the Director of Programs in the Integration of Psychology and Theology. He was one of the founders of the International Journal for the Psychology of Religion. He chaired over 100 doctoral dissertations, most on the psychology of religion. (I have barely chaired 10.) He wrote over 80 papers. His most referenced papers are cited over 3000 times. (I can barely get my graduate students to read any of my papers.) He wrote over 30 books from "Glossolalia: Behavioral Science Perspectives on Speaking in Tongues" (1985) to "Whatever Happened to the Soul: Scientific and Theological Portraits of Human Nature" (1998) to "The Amazing John Wesley: An Unusual Look at an Uncommon Life" (2010) to "John Prine and the Gospel" (2020). His book "Early Psychoanalytic Writings on Religion in Imago" will be published posthumously very soon. If you can believe it, he was working on this book for over 10 years and up until 1 month before passing away. Unbelievable. I am so very proud of his accomplishments and so honored to be his son.
You might not know it, but my father was also an athlete. He ran 5K races under the sweltering California sun. He cross-country skied pristine meadows of new-fallen snow in the San Gabriels. He hiked the Sierra Nevada mountain range to peaks many thousands of feet tall, culminating in Mt. Whitney at 14,505 ft, all with a fully-loaded multi-colored backpack. Now that's style. I am pretty sure he was on a bowling team, plus he squared-danced, sometime competitively. I can not think of much anything else sportwise, but given the athletic prowess of his 3 sons, I am sure he had plenty of natural physical talent to do most anything he put his mind to. He was superman.
Most of all, my father was my Dad. He was my friend, my hero, and my confidant. He supported and encouraged me in all ways. He gave me his wisdom, showed me his love, and taught me the courage to be the person I am. My Dad had a rich life and he was there, ever present in body and spirit, in mine. I am my father's son and he is my Dad forevermore. I miss him dearly.
#7Mentor of Psychologists —
Claude P Ragan2020-09-09 16:59
We had an instant connection when I walked onto the Fuller campus in 1971. Newton, you were a rising star out of the South and I was a naive Southern farm boy. You apparently saw something I could become.
You were a potter, so patient at the wheel. When you and your colleagues formed many of us over the decades, your manner could challenge and affirm at the same time. You always wanted to discuss more, to ask more, to know more. So you transmitted to us the clinician’s acumen and the explorer’s passion.
Like the potter, you seemed to be pleased and at times even impressed with what you formed. Your gentleness was so strong, settled in Christ, the ground of your being. Yet the prophet’s anger could appear when you detected unfairness or irresponsibility.
I miss that searching sparkle in your eye. How can we thank you for what you passed to us?
I look forward to seeing you, on the Other Side.
#6Remembering Newton Malony —
Emily Davis Cook2020-09-08 19:15
Far surpassing his intellectual gifts and energy was Newton's unconditional love for his family. It was obvious to anyone who interacted with him that Suzanna and their three sons were the center of his life. But his love extended well beyond these four precious ones to include all of us in the Davis family. When Suzanna and Newton wed in November of 1953, she joined the Malony family and he joined the Davis family. Like Newton, Harold "Dave" Davis, his father-in-law, had grown to manhood without the presence of his own father to love and guide him. The two of them shared this special bond, becoming always closer as the years passed by. His brother-in-law, Steve Davis, would come to feel true brotherly love with Newton as he grew up. The Davis family expanded, and was blessed with children and grandchildren. As in all families, there were happy and triumphant times to be enjoyed and appreciated. But there were sad and tragic times as well. Throughout the years, Newton was always there to support, protect, comfort, and encourage us in desperate need of solace. We will forever be in his debt, and are diminished by his passing.
Emily Davis Cook
#5My Friend Newton Malony —
L Scott Gage2020-09-03 12:44
Donna and I cherish the time that we were able to know and associate with Newton and Suzanna Malony. In recent years I carried on many email conversations with Newton. He would send things that he had written to me and ask me to look it over. We had good discussions about Biblical themes and current affairs. In the past year Newton had been encouraging me to publish some things that I have written. He wanted to write the preface for it. I appreciated Newton's wisdom and his encouragement. I have enjoyed reading things that he has written, especially his book on John Wesley. I will miss our email conversations and his companionship.
For 30 years, Newt Malony was my friend, and he was also my esteemed colleague at Fuller Seminary’s School of Psychology. Our friendship deepened through the years, and I spoke with him again just two or three weeks ago. We discussed his health concerns–which seemed serious but not yet imminent–even as he shared his excitement about the upcoming release of his latest book with Dr. Ed Shafranske. Newton’s life was very full and lived well. He and Suzanna were foundational pillars and generous benefactors to the School of Psychology, and I enjoyed their delightful Christmas letters over the years. In the midst of my grief, there is joy in thinking of their happy reunion, for he freely shared that he missed Suzanna very much. I also smile when I think of Newt–who many at Fuller called “Moses” out of respect–getting to sit down for discussion with the first Moses! Heaven looks better every day.
As I continued to reflect on the impact Dr.Malony and Suzanna had on our lives, I realized that I needed to add a couple of stories... I will never forget my first day of school at Pasadena High School in the Fall of 1969...as myself and my classmates prepared for swim team tryouts, we first met our new coach, Suzanna Malony! She introduced herself to us (of course with her famous southern accent), told us that she just moved with her husband and three boys...she said that she had not coaches swimming before but she would learn. Well, she certainly did with the support of Dr. Malony! He was actually a great positive influence for our team through our high school years. Senior year, 1971-72, PHS was set to swim against Blair with their "unbeatable" team of AAU club swimmers...Mrs. Malony prepared for the meet...Dr. Malony told the team that we could beat this team! He even said that after we won the meet he would take us for a steak dinner...well, we actually did beat Blair (even at their own pool)...during the off season Mrs. Malony always had interesting units for us to participate in...sometimes Dr. Malony would need us to participate in some surveys, which I believe were for some of his psychology studies In May of 1982, Bill Huse and I were married...it was so special to have Dr. Malony marry us. It was an extremely hot day; while we were waiting to begin the wedding the guys, including Dr. Malony, broke open the keg...however, it was brief and we had a wonderful garden wedding that he beautifully presided over...we were so fortunate to have him impact our lives. Jennie Jacobsen-Huse and Bill Huse
#2Tribute to Dr. Malony —
Jennie Jacobsen-Huse2020-08-30 00:32
Our condolences to the Malony family from Pasadena. The memorial remembrance certainly indicates the great impact that Dr. Malony had on everyone! Larz your tribute is the best!
Jennie Jacobsen-Huse and Bill Huse
#1Newton Malony Tribute —
Laurence E Malony2020-08-24 17:56
Newton Malony, my Dad, was a giant of a man. Maybe not in the physical sense. He was never a great athlete but in every other aspect of what being a man is all about, he demonstrated power and fearlessness throughout his life. In my eyes, he ran back the kickoff for a touchdown, sank the game winning three point shot and hit a grand slam all at the same time. Every day! Never a bragger. Strength and confidence NEVER needs to brag. Dad clearly knew right from wrong. He was never scared to voice his opinion and take action when he saw an injustice. He never stopped standing up for those less fortunate than he was.
None of us have the luxury or blessing of being able to choose our parents. In mine and my brothers’ case, we lucked out big time. We were conceived and mentored by a Father and Mother that genuinely loved each other and that Love permeated our family experience and provided us with a master class learning opportunity. We were showered with unconditional Love. We were taught that everyone is truly created equal and deserve to be treated with respect and given equal opportunities in this life. This truth continues to be a guiding light for me.
“WHENEVER POSSIBLE, CHOOSE TO BE ON THE SIDE OF THE ANGELS”: I heard Dad take the time to provide this advice more than a few times in my life. This is guidance that I have strived to follow all of my life and it has served me well. Through this practice I learned the value of saying THANK YOU and I APOLOGIZE.
COURAGE TO BE – PAUL TILLICH: In The Courage to Be Tillich defines courage as the self-affirmation of one's being in spite of a threat of nonbeing. He relates courage to anxiety, anxiety being the threat of non-being and Courage to be what we use to combat that threat. Dad encouraged us to have the Courage to find and be ourselves in this life and I am deeply thankful for that.
DRIVING IN THE SMOKIES: I can remember being in the back of a station wagon with my brothers with all the seats laid down and us in blankets or sleeping bags as dad was driving us home from one of those camping trips in the Smokey Mountains or some other Appalachian mountain area. No seatbelts (not required back in the day). It was nighttime. The roads were very windy and could be somewhat scary to children. Dad was driving. I remember consciously giving over my complete trust to dad. We eventually arrived home safely and all was well.
IN SPITE OF OURSELVES – JOHN PRINE – Dad was a latecomer to the John Prine fan club. He came to know this chronicler of the human and American experience about ten years ago. He ended up writing a book about John Prine relating Prine’s music with stories and lessons in the Gospel: “JOHN PRINE AND THE GOSPEL”. Dad enjoyed many of Prine’s songs and the truths that they so honestly outlined. One of his favorites was one that he related to his deep love and relationship with his wife, our mom Suzanna Malony. The chorus speaks to not taking their idiosyncrasies too seriously while remembering that their Love was special and worth validating. “In spite of ourselves we'll end up a-sittin' on a rainbow Against all odds, honey we're the big door-prize We're gonna spite our noses right off of our faces There won't be nothin' but big ol' hearts dancin' in our eyes” Dad and I were able to see John Prine in concert at the Oregon Zoo. It was one of John Prine’s last concerts before contracting the COVID-19 virus and ultimate succumbing to it. Dad had a wonderful time. It was a special experience.
I want to end with a true story that I heard dad tell only a few times. I’ll do my best to get the main tenets of the story correct. In 1956 Dad was assigned his first pastorship of a church. It happened to be in Sylacauga Alabama. Mom was a young mother with a newborn, me. Dad was enjoying this new chapter in his life and his congregation loved their new pastor. It wasn’t too long into his tenure when he noticed that there were no African Americans at his church. He knew that Black people were around because he saw them all the time in the little town of Sylacauga. He noted that there was a church across the little town that all of the local African Americans went to. The two congregations never seemed to interact. Dad wanted to find a way to create interaction between the two congregations and hopefully develop awareness and friendships. He began to interact with the Black pastor and organized visits between from folks in Dad’s church as well as visits from members of the African American congregation to dad’s church. Things were going well and friendships were being developed between the two congregations. Unfortunately, mom started to get threatening phone calls from people who didn’t like what dad was doing. These calls continued to escalate to the point where one caller threatened to bomb our house. One Friday evening dad heard from a parishioner that there were folks in downtown Sylacauga putting up signs about a KKK rally in town. Dad told mom that he was going to go “downtown” that evening. Mom was not comfortable with the idea but Dad was fairly headstrong in his plan to go downtown. Dad arrived downtown and saw that indeed there were several posters promoting a KKK rally on the upcoming Saturday. Dad started taking the posters down. Dad had an armful of posters collected when a car with three men drove up. One man got out and asked dad what he was doing, Dad said that he was collecting the posters for his friends. The man got agitated and said: “No you are not! You are taking down our posters! Hey, aren’t you Reverend Malony??!!”. Dad said yes. At this stage, the two other men got out of the car and started to approach dad. All of a sudden the men stopped and the one man said in a somewhat shaky but angry voice: “Well, you had better have all of those posters up by tomorrow morning!!” The men got in the car and drove away. Saturday, there was a KKK march and rally in downtown Sylacauga that ended up in the park across the street from Mom and Dad’s house. A small cross was burnt. Dad decided to go across the street and kick the burning cross down. The Methodist Church higher ups got wind of what dad was doing at the Sylacauga church and the increasing issues from the KKK. They were aware of the threats Mom was getting and were getting more aggressive. The Methodist Church, while appreciating dad’s efforts, decided that maybe it was best to move dad, mom and me to a new church and assign a new minister to the Sylacauga church. That happened relatively quickly and we moved to Nashville where dad did serve as a minister and received his doctorate in Clinical Psychology from the George Peabody College of Vanderbilt University. One day during our time in Nashville, dad got a call from a higher up Bishop in the Methodist South Eastern Conference. He was a friend of dad’s. He called dad to tell him that he had recently gotten a phone call from someone looking for dad. Considering the mischief that dad had stirred up in Sylacauga, the Bishop was suspicious. The Bishop decided to tell the caller that he could not put the caller in direct contact with dad but that he would be more than happy to pass on a message. At first the caller was agitated because he had a very important message that he wanted to give to dad directly. Important enough to want to do it in person. He finally acquiesced and agreed to tell the following story. He told the Bishop that he had recently become a “Born Again Christian” and that he wanted to get something off his chest. He confessed to being one of the three men that approached dad a few years back when dad was taking down KKK rally posters and was a part of the small parade and KKK gathering in the park across from where we lived in Sylacauga. He wanted to sincerely apologize for being a part of the KKK and his intimidation of dad. He wanted dad’s forgiveness. He told the Bishop the story that he and his two friends had heard that dad was taking down the rally signs that they had helped to put up earlier in the day. They decided to go downtown, catch dad in the act and confront him. Ultimately they were willing to kill dad if they had to but, at the very least, rough him up a lot to “teach him a lesson”. The Bishop chimed in to say that dad never told him about getting beat up. The caller said, “we decided not to do it”. The Bishop asked why. The caller said that he was the person that had first gotten out of the car and approached dad. He then signaled for the other two guys to get out of the car. Then two very big guys showed up beside Newton Malony. The caller said that he and the other two guessed that they were from dad’s church but they had never seen folks that big in Sylacauga. “We didn’t feel good about the situation so we told Rev, Malony to have the posters back up by the next day”. They got in the car and sped off.
The Bishop passed on this confession/apology from the caller to dad and then the Bishop stated that dad “got lucky that night”. Then the bishop asked dad who were the two big guys that showed up to help him. Dad said, ”that’s curious! I was by myself that night.”
Dad, Almighty God knows the special people in this mortal life who stand up to hate and stand up for others while, in some cases, putting themselves in danger. Dad, you ARE one of these people. God sent his angels down to be with you and protect you that night. Dad, they are with you now, once again.
I LOVE YOU DAD!!! THANK YOU FOR YOUR POWERFUL LOVING EXAMPLE!!
Light a Candle
Comments
I had never met a 22 pound cat before.
I had also never met a real live pastor or "doctor" before, and so I was slightly intimidated. No surprise to anyone who knew Newt, with a twinkle in his eye and a gentle manner, he quickly dismissed my fears, and that day I came to know an incredibly Godly, wise, authentic and fierce yet caring human being.
Mike - you are your father's son, and I am incredibly blessed that you are my friend. Rest in peace, Dr. Malony! You are missed.
My father was a compassionate person and cared deeply about others. When he was a young man, he struggled with the meaning of life and his purpose in it. During the last year I was with my father, he told me on several occassions about when he was at Yale Divinity and a fellow classmate took his life. It shook my father to the core and he seriously contemplated suicide, even planned it. He said there were three things that saved him. The first was Paul Tillich and his famous book "The Courage to Be." Tillich defines courage as the self-affirmatio n of one's being in spite of a threat of non-being. I pains me to know that my father was frightened and uncertain at this time in his life, but I am thankful that Tillich's philosophy took hold. My father was still reading this book up until he passed away, contemplating on passages that I am sure he had read hundreds of times before. Interestingly, his personal affirmation of "Have Courage to Be" is something the guided my father through his life. He carved this in a piece of wood one day at a cabin he and my mother had in the San Gabriel mountains and it is among his personal items that I will hold on to. The second thing my father said saved him was my mother, the love of his life. She would not let him lose sight of the great man he was destined to be. The third thing was his love of God and the strong pull of religion as an important path for his life's work that discovered in his youth. It was clear to me when listening to my father tell this story and seeing the tears roll down his cheeks how powerful that experience was to defining who he was to become.
My father was an academic, a scholar, and an intellectual. Simply put, he was a thinker. Given his prolific achievements, he must have been thinking all the time! He had a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology and was a Professor of Psychology in the Graduate School of Psychology at Fuller Theological Seminary, where he was the Director of Programs in the Integration of Psychology and Theology. He was one of the founders of the International Journal for the Psychology of Religion. He chaired over 100 doctoral dissertations, most on the psychology of religion. (I have barely chaired 10.) He wrote over 80 papers. His most referenced papers are cited over 3000 times. (I can barely get my graduate students to read any of my papers.) He wrote over 30 books from "Glossolalia: Behavioral Science Perspectives on Speaking in Tongues" (1985) to "Whatever Happened to the Soul: Scientific and Theological Portraits of Human Nature" (1998) to "The Amazing John Wesley: An Unusual Look at an Uncommon Life" (2010) to "John Prine and the Gospel" (2020). His book "Early Psychoanalytic Writings on Religion in Imago" will be published posthumously very soon. If you can believe it, he was working on this book for over 10 years and up until 1 month before passing away. Unbelievable. I am so very proud of his accomplishments and so honored to be his son.
You might not know it, but my father was also an athlete. He ran 5K races under the sweltering California sun. He cross-country skied pristine meadows of new-fallen snow in the San Gabriels. He hiked the Sierra Nevada mountain range to peaks many thousands of feet tall, culminating in Mt. Whitney at 14,505 ft, all with a fully-loaded multi-colored backpack. Now that's style. I am pretty sure he was on a bowling team, plus he squared-danced, sometime competitively. I can not think of much anything else sportwise, but given the athletic prowess of his 3 sons, I am sure he had plenty of natural physical talent to do most anything he put his mind to. He was superman.
Most of all, my father was my Dad. He was my friend, my hero, and my confidant. He supported and encouraged me in all ways. He gave me his wisdom, showed me his love, and taught me the courage to be the person I am. My Dad had a rich life and he was there, ever present in body and spirit, in mine. I am my father's son and he is my Dad forevermore. I miss him dearly.
Newton, you were a rising star out of the South
and I was a naive Southern farm boy.
You apparently saw something I could become.
You were a potter, so patient at the wheel.
When you and your colleagues formed many of us over the decades,
your manner could challenge and affirm at the same time.
You always wanted to discuss more, to ask more, to know more.
So you transmitted to us the clinician’s acumen and the explorer’s passion.
Like the potter, you seemed to be pleased
and at times even impressed with what you formed.
Your gentleness was so strong,
settled in Christ, the ground of your being.
Yet the prophet’s anger could appear
when you detected unfairness or irresponsibilit y.
I miss that searching sparkle in your eye.
How can we thank you for what you passed to us?
I look forward to seeing you, on the Other Side.
Like Newton, Harold "Dave" Davis, his father-in-law, had grown to manhood without the presence of his own father to love and guide him. The two of them shared this special bond, becoming always closer as the years passed by. His brother-in-law, Steve Davis, would come to feel true brotherly love with Newton as he grew up.
The Davis family expanded, and was blessed with children and grandchildren. As in all families, there were happy and triumphant times to be enjoyed and appreciated. But there were sad and tragic times as well. Throughout the years, Newton was always there to support, protect, comfort, and encourage us in desperate need of solace. We will forever be in his debt, and are diminished by his passing.
Emily Davis Cook
Your Friend and Encourager,
L. Scott Gage
I will never forget my first day of school at Pasadena High School in the Fall of 1969...as myself and my classmates prepared for swim team tryouts, we first met our new coach, Suzanna Malony! She introduced herself to us (of course with her famous southern accent), told us that she just moved with her husband and three boys...she said that she had not coaches swimming before but she would learn. Well, she certainly did with the support of Dr. Malony! He was actually a great positive influence for our team through our high school years. Senior year, 1971-72, PHS was set to swim against Blair with their "unbeatable" team of AAU club swimmers...Mrs. Malony prepared for the meet...Dr. Malony told the team that we could beat this team! He even said that after we won the meet he would take us for a steak dinner...well, we actually did beat Blair (even at their own pool)...during the off season Mrs. Malony always had interesting units for us to participate in...sometimes Dr. Malony would need us to participate in some surveys, which I believe were for some of his psychology studies
In May of 1982, Bill Huse and I were married...it was so special to have Dr. Malony marry us. It was an extremely hot day; while we were waiting to begin the wedding the guys, including Dr. Malony, broke open the keg...however, it was brief and we had a wonderful garden wedding that he beautifully presided over...we were so fortunate to have him impact our lives.
Jennie Jacobsen-Huse and Bill Huse
Jennie Jacobsen-Huse and Bill Huse
None of us have the luxury or blessing of being able to choose our parents. In mine and my brothers’ case, we lucked out big time. We were conceived and mentored by a Father and Mother that genuinely loved each other and that Love permeated our family experience and provided us with a master class learning opportunity. We were showered with unconditional Love. We were taught that everyone is truly created equal and deserve to be treated with respect and given equal opportunities in this life. This truth continues to be a guiding light for me.
“WHENEVER POSSIBLE, CHOOSE TO BE ON THE SIDE OF THE ANGELS”: I heard Dad take the time to provide this advice more than a few times in my life. This is guidance that I have strived to follow all of my life and it has served me well. Through this practice I learned the value of saying THANK YOU and I APOLOGIZE.
COURAGE TO BE – PAUL TILLICH: In The Courage to Be Tillich defines courage as the self-affirmatio n of one's being in spite of a threat of nonbeing. He relates courage to anxiety, anxiety being the threat of non-being and Courage to be what we use to combat that threat. Dad encouraged us to have the Courage to find and be ourselves in this life and I am deeply thankful for that.
DRIVING IN THE SMOKIES: I can remember being in the back of a station wagon with my brothers with all the seats laid down and us in blankets or sleeping bags as dad was driving us home from one of those camping trips in the Smokey Mountains or some other Appalachian mountain area. No seatbelts (not required back in the day). It was nighttime. The roads were very windy and could be somewhat scary to children. Dad was driving. I remember consciously giving over my complete trust to dad. We eventually arrived home safely and all was well.
IN SPITE OF OURSELVES – JOHN PRINE – Dad was a latecomer to the John Prine fan club. He came to know this chronicler of the human and American experience about ten years ago. He ended up writing a book about John Prine relating Prine’s music with stories and lessons in the Gospel: “JOHN PRINE AND THE GOSPEL”.
Dad enjoyed many of Prine’s songs and the truths that they so honestly outlined.
One of his favorites was one that he related to his deep love and relationship with his wife, our mom Suzanna Malony. The chorus speaks to not taking their idiosyncrasies too seriously while remembering that their Love was special and worth validating.
“In spite of ourselves we'll end up a-sittin' on a rainbow
Against all odds, honey we're the big door-prize
We're gonna spite our noses right off of our faces
There won't be nothin' but big ol' hearts dancin' in our eyes”
Dad and I were able to see John Prine in concert at the Oregon Zoo. It was one of John Prine’s last concerts before contracting the COVID-19 virus and ultimate succumbing to it. Dad had a wonderful time. It was a special experience.
I want to end with a true story that I heard dad tell only a few times. I’ll do my best to get the main tenets of the story correct. In 1956 Dad was assigned his first pastorship of a church. It happened to be in Sylacauga Alabama. Mom was a young mother with a newborn, me. Dad was enjoying this new chapter in his life and his congregation loved their new pastor. It wasn’t too long into his tenure when he noticed that there were no African Americans at his church. He knew that Black people were around because he saw them all the time in the little town of Sylacauga. He noted that there was a church across the little town that all of the local African Americans went to. The two congregations never seemed to interact. Dad wanted to find a way to create interaction between the two congregations and hopefully develop awareness and friendships. He began to interact with the Black pastor and organized visits between from folks in Dad’s church as well as visits from members of the African American congregation to dad’s church.
Things were going well and friendships were being developed between the two congregations. Unfortunately, mom started to get threatening phone calls from people who didn’t like what dad was doing. These calls continued to escalate to the point where one caller threatened to bomb our house. One Friday evening dad heard from a parishioner that there were folks in downtown Sylacauga putting up signs about a KKK rally in town. Dad told mom that he was going to go “downtown” that evening. Mom was not comfortable with the idea but Dad was fairly headstrong in his plan to go downtown. Dad arrived downtown and saw that indeed there were several posters promoting a KKK rally on the upcoming Saturday. Dad started taking the posters down. Dad had an armful of posters collected when a car with three men drove up. One man got out and asked dad what he was doing, Dad said that he was collecting the posters for his friends. The man got agitated and said: “No you are not! You are taking down our posters! Hey, aren’t you Reverend Malony??!!”. Dad said yes. At this stage, the two other men got out of the car and started to approach dad. All of a sudden the men stopped and the one man said in a somewhat shaky but angry voice: “Well, you had better have all of those posters up by tomorrow morning!!” The men got in the car and drove away.
Saturday, there was a KKK march and rally in downtown Sylacauga that ended up in the park across the street from Mom and Dad’s house. A small cross was burnt. Dad decided to go across the street and kick the burning cross down.
The Methodist Church higher ups got wind of what dad was doing at the Sylacauga church and the increasing issues from the KKK. They were aware of the threats Mom was getting and were getting more aggressive. The Methodist Church, while appreciating dad’s efforts, decided that maybe it was best to move dad, mom and me to a new church and assign a new minister to the Sylacauga church. That happened relatively quickly and we moved to Nashville where dad did serve as a minister and received his doctorate in Clinical Psychology from the George Peabody College of Vanderbilt University.
One day during our time in Nashville, dad got a call from a higher up Bishop in the Methodist South Eastern Conference. He was a friend of dad’s. He called dad to tell him that he had recently gotten a phone call from someone looking for dad. Considering the mischief that dad had stirred up in Sylacauga, the Bishop was suspicious. The Bishop decided to tell the caller that he could not put the caller in direct contact with dad but that he would be more than happy to pass on a message. At first the caller was agitated because he had a very important message that he wanted to give to dad directly. Important enough to want to do it in person. He finally acquiesced and agreed to tell the following story. He told the Bishop that he had recently become a “Born Again Christian” and that he wanted to get something off his chest. He confessed to being one of the three men that approached dad a few years back when dad was taking down KKK rally posters and was a part of the small parade and KKK gathering in the park across from where we lived in Sylacauga. He wanted to sincerely apologize for being a part of the KKK and his intimidation of dad. He wanted dad’s forgiveness.
He told the Bishop the story that he and his two friends had heard that dad was taking down the rally signs that they had helped to put up earlier in the day. They decided to go downtown, catch dad in the act and confront him. Ultimately they were willing to kill dad if they had to but, at the very least, rough him up a lot to “teach him a lesson”. The Bishop chimed in to say that dad never told him about getting beat up. The caller said, “we decided not to do it”. The Bishop asked why. The caller said that he was the person that had first gotten out of the car and approached dad. He then signaled for the other two guys to get out of the car. Then two very big guys showed up beside Newton Malony. The caller said that he and the other two guessed that they were from dad’s church but they had never seen folks that big in Sylacauga. “We didn’t feel good about the situation so we told Rev, Malony to have the posters back up by the next day”. They got in the car and sped off.
The Bishop passed on this confession/apol ogy from the caller to dad and then the Bishop stated that dad “got lucky that night”. Then the bishop asked dad who were the two big guys that showed up to help him. Dad said, ”that’s curious! I was by myself that night.”
Dad, Almighty God knows the special people in this mortal life who stand up to hate and stand up for others while, in some cases, putting themselves in danger. Dad, you ARE one of these people. God sent his angels down to be with you and protect you that night. Dad, they are with you now, once again.
I LOVE YOU DAD!!! THANK YOU FOR YOUR POWERFUL LOVING EXAMPLE!!
Your Son,
Larz