(PICTURED BELOW - The Dennis brothers (about 1950) with brother's in law and nephew's - Solon, back row, 3rd from right; Ted, back row, 2nd from right; Homer, back row, 1st from right; Delmer, kneeling, front row, 2nd from left)
2nd Picture, (about 1932/3) Dad (Delmer Dennis) and his niece and nephew Billie Maurine Miller (center) and Lindy Stambaugh (right).
At first Dad moved about among a few of his siblings households then eventually was settled into the home of his sister Monta Dennis Miller. "Mont" was married to William (Bill) Miller, a cotton farmer. The couple had one child - a daughter, named Billy Maurine. "Billie" - just four months younger than Dad - was like a sister to him. Together they attended The Allah Hubbard School, on land donated by Doc Hubbard in memory of his daughter who had died. This is the same land that Celina High School now sits on today. Here Dad was blessed to grow up with his many nieces and nephews - the children of his older siblings - and together this tribe formed a bond far exceeding what their deceased parents and grandparents ever envisioned - love of family, country and God- which brought them together often - singing, laughing and always filled with love. So that even as the Great Depression lagged on, far beyond a date acknowledged by history, they were happy. America was recovering. FDR, their President, was seeing to it. And even if things hadn't changed that much for folks in rural North Texas, they were hopeful. They had the radio. And from it a steady diet of good news, gospel music, farming reports and advertisements for potions to cure any ill that might come. Of course, across the ocean was other news. Europe was restless, and Germany - forever a pesky threat - was causing trouble again. But still, that was yet far away. And life in Celina Texas was good!As things began to change at home, and the United States was forced into WWII with the attack at Pearl Harbor (December 7, 1941) Solon, the eldest son, was married and running a farm. He was 41 years old. Ted, the next eldest, was married as well, and living in Dallas. Homer, who'd struggled in adjusting to life and school after his parents died, had already enlisted in the Army. This left Delmer, my Dad, who was just 16. And, like all the other boys around his home town of Celina, he couldn't wait to join in the fray. So, finally, in September of 1942, just after he turned 17, Dad made it to Dallas and enlisted in the United States Navy. He'd never been anywhere other than McKinney and Dallas, Texas - but after his boot camp he found himself on the California coast where on Christmas Eve of 1942 he shipped out into the Pacific Ocean where, with a host of other young boys just like him, he grew up over night.
In 1988 journalist Tom Brokaw wrote a book titled, The Greatest Generation, in which he profiles folks who grew up in the United States during the deprivation of the Great Depression, and then went on to fight in World War II. To summarize, he writes that our United States was largely built and made to achieve success upon the shoulders, work eithic, tenacity, courage and attitudes of this generation of Americans. And though 'how' they did this bears some debate, 'what' they did cannot be denied. And whether Mr. Brokaw was absolutely or just sentimentally right, I know but this - though my Dad was an orphan, and poor as were many of his time, somehow he didn't live, act or seem as many defined as 'poor' today. For though he was without his parents, money or position, Dad was hopeful. And he was more than able to give to me, my brother and my 2 sisters enough of the same. He loved God, he loved my Mom, he loved us, and... he loved this country, And though I believe he would be sympathetic, even troubled, over our need to eradicate the racial and economic divide till seen in this country today, he would have greater trouble understanding any cry for change that resorted to disobedience of law, disrespecting of flag and denouncing of what he believed to be the greatest nation on earth.
And I know this, too. When I was a boy these four men - along with numerous aunts and others - these were my heroes, I didn't t need to look any further for inspiration, example or identity. And though they each died far too young in my opinion - three from heart disease and one, Ted, from the disease of his father - a type of ALS, I received enough memories from them to last a lifetime. Homer passed in 1968, at 51. Solon in 1972, at 72. Ted in 1981, at 66. And Dad, Delmer, in 1989, at 63. Homer participated in the invasion at Normandy, and was on the phone with my Dad when he had a massive heart attack and died. His wife, Ann, told that until the day he died he had nightmares recalling the Normandy Beach invasion. Homer was a deacon at Lakeside Baptist in Dallas. Ted, a deacon at ParkCities Baptist in Dallas, eventually became a very successful home builder, and lived in Preston Hollow on Mimosa Lane at Edgemere, in a home he'd contracted and built himself. Solon served as a deacon at First Baptist of Celina, and farmed up until just a few years before he died. Each of these were great men. And though The Greatest Generation was a good read, I certainly didn't need Mr. Brokaw to tell me so. I knew it just being around them. One of Dad's favorite sayings is still a treasure to me, "Son, before you buy a new car, go wash the one you have." For I can't say how many times that has kept me from buying a car (and other things) I really did not need.
So how might we have a repeat of this generation? Well, though I don't have all answers, being a preacher I do have a few. First, it is worth noting that each of these men had a personal relationship with Christ. Christ was their Savior and His church was their place on Sunday. Also, each of these men had a strong work ethic. Doing a good job meant doing your best - at everything, Too, each believed that being on time meant being early, being well dressed, and, as they'd say, 'with your shoes shined." Finally, these men loved America, appreciating the opportunity this country provided them to do, be and achieve anything they could. In other words, it wasn't just what America was, it was what America provided - a chance to be more, if they were willing to see it so.
Now to my point. As is obvious, I miss these men yet today. But, instead of my being only nostalgic, I have learned to ask questions of myself - both in honor and in light of their memory. Questions such as how am I doing based upon a comparison of my life to the memory of the lives they left behind? What kind of impression am I leaving? What would people say of my work ethic, my character, my faith, my love of family, country and God? These are the questions - not just the memory - their lives yet beg of me. So that until my time has passed, I want to not just talk about the Greatest Generation, but to help inspire a new one. For our present day vanity is a slippery slope, and our current penchant of living through social media has become - all too often - just an enabler of lies. So for this reason I pray that my children and children's children might live beyond this temptation - enjoying the medium, but certainly not living a false life through it. That, instead, they might - by my example - learn how to live in spite of it by living above 'selfies' and the 'look at me's', building lives that are noticebale beyond a FB post. For, if they can do this, perhaps we may find in them - truly - the greatest generation of all. Survivors of a culture prone to self adulation yet steeped in self doubt. A generation rising above the flippant, the instant post and the sound bite to build lives making a difference. Kind lives. Serving lives. Christian lives - like the brothers, Dennis - four men named Solon, Ted, Homer and Delmer.
Indeed,
Pastor Sam
