I had been a Christian for just a matter of weeks the first time I put on this hardhat.
It was summer job as cable splicer's assistant (slave/grunt) for Southern New England Telephone in London, Connecticut.
I had just met Jesus at Fresno Pacific University during my freshman year.
I was still a year away from meeting his wife..(: (see this)
So of course I wanted to tell people about Jesus.
I put on this hat, my toolbelt...and various parts of my summer armor.
I met one of my my partners for the day; a bug, buff, beaming ex-Marine wearing a T-shirt reading:
"Kill them all; let God sort it out."
He shook my hand firmly; and looked me in the eyes squarely as he said.
"Good to meet you. I'm sure we'll get along fine.
There's only one kind of people I can't stand, and that's born-again Christians."
In retrospect, I'm amazed he didn't add, "...and I'm sure you're not one of them, are ya?"
I, uh, didn't brag that my new-birth certificate.
I didn't tell him about Jesus.
I didn't volunteer that I was indeed one of them; and that he should be, too.
I smiled.
We got in the truck.
I noticed a small card with a photo on the visor.
I asked my supervisor who it was.
"Oh, that was...my last assistant. It's his funeral card.
He...uh, died on the job."
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Freshman year pics, '82-83 Fresno Pacific
Summer '83 pics, Connecticut
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