They say that if the Army and the Navy ever gazed on Heaven’s scenes, they’d find the gates guarded by the Marines. If true, today, heaven has one more man to post at Heaven’s gates. Billy Fowler had to be the toughest man I’ve ever known, and it wasn’t because he was mean – there was never a mean bone in his body; it wasn’t because he was loud – because he was very soft spoken. It was because he was a Marine, and by definition, Marines are the toughest guys in America.
In 1966 at the age of 19, he was drafted into the military. Having never stepped foot outside the boundaries of Todd County, he found himself on a bus headed south to Nashville, not knowing where he was destined to go. I believe he thought he’d join the army, when they numbered the recruits off, his number came up and he was sent to the Marines. The Marines. They trained in California. “California?” he thought. “Not California!” He panicked! “I’ve got to talk to someone!” And though he tried to talk, they wouldn’t listen. This poor boy from Todd County, KY became a Marine, was shipped to California and ultimately performed a one year tour of duty in Vietnam. He missed home. He missed his family. Even more so, he missed a little girl who was 14 years old; too young to date, but not too young to write love letters. And write love letters they did.
For two years they wrote letters until he was discharged. He came home and married that little girl (she was 16 years old at the time), then built his life around her and the children they raised. And in the end, he touched many lives along the way.
What could I tell you about Billy that you already don’t know? Probably nothing. I could tell you that he loved to play High 9, and went to Fairview almost daily to play, but you already knew that. I could tell you that he loved ice cream, any ice cream – especially Orange Sherbet, but you already knew that. I could tell you that he collected knives, old money, and even his own toe nail, but you already knew that – well that toe nail thing might have slipped pass you (and I kinda wished it had passed me by too). I could tell you that in order to impress Bettye, he simply showed her how fast he could recite his multiplication tables – and he did, and don’t laugh, it’s a lot harder than it sounds.
Let me take a moment and try to capture some things about Billy. If I were to tell you that Billy was devoted, I’m sure everyone would easily agree. We saw his devotion in his family when they gathered at church; they always sat together and it always appeared they enjoyed coming together, as if their church family was a mere extension of the Fowler family. Not only was Billy’s devotion evident by the number of times he and Bettye were at church, but he was also our official French Fry Slicer for our Fish Fries.
Billy took much pleasure in life. He never met stranger, and in his years of public service, finding pleasure with the general public is a task in and of itself. He certainly found pleasure in his children and granddaughters, and never missed an activity they were participating in, and since his granddaughters were cheering he went to cheer competitions and rooted as if he were rooting for the boys in basketball. The one time I saw him take great pleasure was in the Senior Olympics where he won medals in horse shoes, lawn bowling, and the washer toss. I think his greatest pleasure was winning the mile walk. Bettye wasn’t nearly so thrilled, because he all but passed out from exhaustion afterward.
In a world that’s filled with loud noises, Billy had a way of shutting out the noise. Of course, it was easier for him because of his hearing loss. However, sometimes it was easier because he had selective hearting. I would ask him to say the closing prayer at the worship, and Bettye would jab him as to prod him to say the prayer. When you’re the Sheriff in town, your very presence can bring a hostile situation to explode, or your very presence can be a non-anxious, calming stillness. He had an ability to defuse a situation before it escalated out of control.
If you are going to spend a full year in the midst of battle, then twenty years as a public servant, you must learn to create a high level of tolerance for people and situations. Billy once coached T-ball, and after the first practice, his patience was going to be tested as he confessed, “We won’t win a single game this season.” He worked with the players, having to hold the bat so he could put the ball on the Tee then run out of the way before they swing because they’d hit him with the bat. Yet to his surprise, they not only won one game, they went undefeated.
The first Christmas I was in Elkton, Billy approached me and wanted to know if it was ok if he could give my boys a knife for Christmas. For some boys, a knife is a tool, and of course for others it’s a toy. Knowing how the boys view knives is an important bit of information before giving a gift. So Bettye had him ask me. Since my boys are Boy Scouts and responsible enough to handle a knife, I gladly told him that his thoughtfulness was greatly appreciated. Billy was one who shared with others, whether it was his time or his money; if he had it to give, he would gladly offered it to others. No clearer moment of this came than when he visited the Vietnam War Memorial in DC. Like so many before him, he sought out the name of a buddy who died, except this buddy was a fellow Todd Countian. He took out the paper and pencil and carefully placed the paper over his buddy’s name and made the etching. When he returned home, instead of keeping the etching for himself, he gave it to the brother of the one who died.
We live in time where decent men are no longer decent, and where Diogenes holds a lantern looking for an honest man. If Diogenes existed, he would have found his man in Billy. So much of Billy was about integrity and being decent. He was always kind and good to Bettye, to his children, and provided for their needs. More importantly, he always looked for good in other people. Many times he was looking for something good in the junk he brought home each day, just like any good American Picker would do. Someone who is that devoted to decency maybe they reason why Bettye was willing and proud to call him, “Stud-Muffin.”
Loyalty is an undying devotion to someone or an organization. No matter how difficult the situation is, you can count on that person’s loyalty. They will neither abandon you nor forsake you, even if it is easier to do so. Billy was loyal. He was loyal to Bettye, his family, his church, and his country (which may be saying a lot since fighting in Vietnam was anything but popular). His girls, the ladies who worked for him in the office, knew that Billy had their backs. He treated them honestly, fairly, and with respect. They knew he had their best interest at heart.
It’s hard to imagine a Marine having a tenderness quality. It’s even harder to imagine Billy as a tough Marine who fought in a war. Even so, he took great length not to harm people, and to listen to what they said when they came to his office. He wanted to know what they wanted and what they needed. In his soft manner, it was natural for him to show tenderness.
Any soldier, particularly a Marine, is marked by discipline. They carry themselves by the way the walk, stand, and even talk. They watch what they say, and Billy’s own soft words meant that he did much to control his words. When the general public is angry and they want to attack the leader, a good leader disciplines his actions and words so that he/she can work for the good of the situation and the people.
All these attributes – devotion, pleasure, stillness, tolerant, thoughtful, decent, loyalty, tender, and discipline – marked Billy’s character by defining who he was. In fact, these same words are used elsewhere to describe someone who is led by or filled with the Spirit. When God touches a person’s life, that person’s life changes to become more like God. We call it transformation . . . transformation . . . like spending four years refurbishing an old 1955 Ford truck so that it looks and runs like it’s brand new . . . like spending two years refurbishing an old 1966 Ford Mustang so that it looks and runs like it’s better than brand new . . . like spending a full year taking an old rusted out Texico gas pump and refurbishing it into a sparkling red and white gas pump that looks brand new.
Transformation, the process of taking something old and seemingly without value, knowing the value and restoring it into its original value and then some. It’s what American Pickers do. It’s what Billy did. Only with Billy, it wasn’t the commodities that was so important, it was the words; words used to describe someone filled with the Spirit. I said these words were devotion, pleasure, stillness, tolerant, thoughtful, decent, loyalty, tender, and discipline. Paul used different words with very similar meaning; he said the words were Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, Self-control (Gal. 5:22-23). And if these words can be used to describe Billy Fowler, I cannot think of anything better to say about a man, or add any more value to a person’s life. Billy was man touched by God and shaped by the Spirit’s work in his life.
It is said that when Samuel Nicholas went door-to-door in 1776 to recruit men to serve in his army and to fight the British – an army he called The Marines – he would tell those answering the door, “I’m just looking for a few good men.” Billy Fowler now takes he post at Heaven’s gates, in part, because he was a good man.