‘See you later, Brother Louis’
Missed calls are a part of life. We often look at the number of the caller and decide to respond later — or ignore it. Sometimes the phone doesn’t ring or vibrate and we are oblivious of the attempted call. Other times, as was the case on Sunday, April 2, at 9:26 a.m., my phone received a call from my good friend and fellow writer, Louis Houston, but I was in a meeting in Florida and my phone was in silent mode.
In a church meeting, seminar, or counseling session, I do not answer phone calls unless it is an emergency. Having known Louis since 2009, if he calls on Sunday morning, it will be an emergency.
But my phone was in silent mode.
I returned the call as soon as I could, but there was no answer. I called the next day, and left a message. Louis didn’t return the call.
When I returned home on Wednesday evening, I found out what Louis wanted to tell me. And it was Wednesday evening, April 5, that I learned that Louis had passed away earlier that very afternoon.
And I didn’t have an opportunity to say, “Goodbye.”
But two weeks earlier when I left his house, I did say — as I always said — “See you later, Brother Louis,” thinking that I would have coffee with him again at his house on April 11. So looking back on it, I would have said the same thing. If I could have seen him in the hospital, I would still have said, “See you later, Brother Louis.”
Why? Because when it’s my turn to leave this life, I will see him again — in heaven. That’s where I believe he is.
Knowing Louis only since 2009, I have had coffee with him every week since June of 2012 — every week when both Louis and I were in town. I’ll share some of what I learned about him.
He was kind and compassionate; a man of high integrity; soft-spoken and polite. But compassionate people are full of passion, so if you ticked him off, he remembered it for a while. But he was forgiving.
He was also very intelligent and knowledgeable. He learned quickly and he remembered what he learned. I recommend his book, “The Grape-Toned Studebaker” for it tells about his early life, and the stories reveal his philosophy of life. As you know, Louis is a good writer.
Louis was normally ahead
of the technological trend. In southern New Mexico working for oil companies, the companies profited greatly when they listened to Louis. But they seemed to put greater emphasis on advanced educational degrees and on the “goodole-boy” mentality than on common sense.
One of Louis’ dreams was to own a restaurant. So, moving to Arkansas in 1971, Louis and Leah started a restaurant on the east side of Siloam Springs. I asked him, “How’d it go?”
“Well, it lasted for about six months. Most our clientele were tourists, and I didn’t realize how difficult people could be.” “What happened?” “The last straw was when someone from out of state didn’t like the way Leah fixed their breakfast. I asked them point-blank how they wanted it. When they told me, I did it just the way they said.” “And … ?” I inquired. “They said it wasn’t quite right yet. So I told them, ‘You can eat that if you want to, but you won’t have to pay for it. And you are the last customer I’ll ever have. I am closing this down right now.’ And I did!”
Louis realized that computers would be the upand-coming technological advancement, even in homes. He learned about various platforms and programs and learned to create his own programs.
Working for one of the universities in Arkansas, Louis met with the traditional resistance that people give when technology changes. He could deal with it; but when they refused to honor his insurance policy when a family member became sick, he walked out. He would rather walk away than to fight people and offend them. Louis was compassionate, and that offense went deep.
Louis went to work for Benton County, setting up their computer systems. When other county officials realized the benefit, they asked Benton County officials if Louis would be free to help them. So it was arranged, and Louis traveled the state. Helping the state immensely, he was disappointed to find some corruption in state and county governments. Louis always tried to keep faith in his fellow man and he did his best to correct many of the problems; but again, resistance ran high.
Louis and Leah raised their family to respect others, love people, understand the necessity for higher education, and taught them to help mankind the best way they could. Mike became an accountant and owns the Houston & Company PA CPA accounting firm. Leah was employed with the firm for decades and retired on Aug. 4, 2016. Devon created the Houston Enzymes company that is helping people around the world. The Houston family is a tremendous asset to this community, the state and the country.
Louis was a member of the Siloam Springs Writers Guild — formerly called the Siloam Springs Writers — and was the president of the club for a number of years. His favorite style of poetry was free verse. That means it doesn’t have to rhyme or fit any specific meter. That was Louis: he didn’t want to be put in a box, but be accepted and appreciated for who he was.
He had a heart for people, and would go out of his way to help others in need. Because of his empathy for folk, he was sometimes taken advantage of; but although that hurt him, it didn’t stop him from helping others. Even his political views tended toward helping the underprivileged.
Obviously, there’s a lot more that can be said, and will have to be said in another venue. But I’ll say this: in heaven, Louis doesn’t limp any more, his memory is perfect, and as Leah said, “He has his hair back.”
I already miss my brother, but Louis Houston is in the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ. And when the Lord gives him his next assignment, there will be no resistance, no good-oleboy mentality to overcome, and there is no need for an insurance policy.
See you later, Brother Louis.
— Gene Linzey is a speaker, author, mentor and president of the Siloam Springs Writers Guild. Send comments and questions to masters.servant@cox.net. The opinions expressed are those of the author.